Chapter 88 One Last Session

Chapter 88 One Last Session
Gianma

I wake to another wave of cramps rolling through my stomach, sharp enough to drag me out of sleep. A frustrated groan slips past my lips as I pull the duvet over my head, hoping another five minutes will somehow make the pain disappear. It doesn't. If anything, the ache only settles deeper into my body, reminding me that my period has officially decided to make my life miserable.

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to drift back to sleep, but Daine's messages keep flashing through my mind. I skipped three sessions already, and there was no chance Tamer would let a fourth one slide without consequences. As tempting as it is to spend the entire day curled up in Dmitry's arms, I know I have to log in tonight.

I hate that I even want to.

Things with Dmitry have never been better. Every passing day makes it harder to imagine my life without him, yet a part of me still looks forward to those sessions. They excite me in a way I can't quite explain, and the realization fills me with more guilt than anticipation. This double life can't go on forever. Eventually, I'll have to tell Dmitry everything or walk away from Tamer for good.

I'm just...

Not ready.

With a heavy sigh, I reach over to the nightstand for my phone and unlock it before opening my chat with Daine.

Me: I'll be ready by 8 p.m. Please let him know.

Barely a minute passes before the typing bubble appears.

Daine: That's my star girl.

I lock my phone and toss it onto the bed beside me, immediately regretting the decision I'd just made. Agreeing to the session had been easy enough through a screen. Actually showing up tonight would be another thing entirely.

A warm arm snakes around my waist before I can sink any further into my thoughts. Dmitry mumbles something incoherent against the back of my neck and pulls me closer until my back is flush against his chest. He's still half asleep, his breathing slow and steady, completely unaware of the war raging inside my head.

I smile despite myself.

For someone who claims he isn't clingy, he certainly has a habit of refusing to let me out of his arms every morning.

Carefully, I lace my fingers through his and lift his hand just enough to press a kiss against his knuckles.

"You awake?" I whisper.

He answers with a sleepy grunt before burying his face deeper into my hair.

"I'll take that as a no."

His grip only tightens.

The warmth of Dmitry's embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing eventually lull me back to sleep.

When I open my eyes again, the ache in my stomach has dulled to a manageable throb. I blink a few times, still groggy, before catching the delicious smell of chicken broth drifting through the room.

Dmitry walks in carefully, balancing a tray with a steaming bowl of soup and a glass of water.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

I groan, dragging the blanket over my face.

"No," I mumble into the pillow. "It's too early."

A quiet chuckle reaches my ears.

"It really isn't."

"It is," I argue, refusing to move. "The sun is barely..."

My words trail off as he sets the tray on the bedside table.

"Baby."

"Hmm?"

"It's five in the evening."

I yank the blanket off my face so fast I nearly smack myself in the nose.

"What?"

He nods, thoroughly amused.

"You've been asleep for almost eight hours."

My mouth falls open.

"No, I haven't."

"You have."

I scramble for my phone on the nightstand, praying he's exaggerating, the lock screen lights up.

5:02 p.m.

"Oh my God."

I shoot upright so quickly another cramp reminds me of its existence. "No, no, no."

Dmitry raises an eyebrow.

"I take it sleeping wasn't part of today's plan?"

"I was supposed to revise and work on a case."

He blinks. "Revise?"

"I've got extra classes."

He folds his arms across his chest. "Gianna."

"What?"

"You're on summer break."

"I'm on summer break from regular lectures." I swing my legs over the side of the bed and hurry toward the bathroom, grabbing a towel on the way. "The makeup classes don't magically disappear because everyone else is on holiday."

"You've barely moved from this bed since yesterday."

"I'll survive."

"You also have cramps."

"I'll survive those too."

He sighs the sigh of a man who's accepted defeat long before the argument ended. "I made soup."

"I know, and I'll eat it."

"When?"

"After my shower."

"And after that?"

I pause at the bathroom door. "I'll study while eating it."

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"You are impossible."

"I’m literally compromising here."

"Fine,"

I flash him a grin before disappearing into the bathroom, by the time I've showered and changed into an oversized sweatshirt and leggings, I already feel more awake.

I step back into my room, toweling my damp hair.

"Dima."

He looks up from where he's absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.

"I need you to leave."

His brows rise.

"I'm serious." I point toward the hallway. "Out."

"You're kicking me out of the room?"

"My room," I correct automatically before narrowing my eyes. "And yes."

"What did I do?"

"Absolutely nothing, but you here will distract me."

He lets out a laugh. "I'll try not to."

"I need to study and we both know I can't concentrate with you around."

“But you always seem focused when I am here.”
I stare at him and he stares right back, my heart nearly plummets with fear. What if he knows why I am this insistent of him leaving. 

Then the corner of his mouth twitches.

"Fine," he admits. "Maybe a little."

"A little?" I snort out in relief. "You distract me by breathing."

His grin grows. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should."

He stands, walks over and steals a quick kiss from my lips before resting his forehead against mine.

"I’m giving you just one hour."

"Dmitry..."

"One hour, then I'm coming back to check on you."

I roll my eyes.

"You sound like Alec."

"I'll choose to ignore the fact you just compared me to the most stubborn man to exist."

"You are worse than Alec."

"I am not, I listen and adhere to instructions."

"Barely."

He gasps dramatically, clutching his chest.

"That was uncalled for."

"It was completely deserved."

Still shaking his head, he finally heads toward the door.

"I’ll bring dinner up here."

I groan, god no. "I already agreed to eat the soup."

"I'm bringing dinner too."

"Dima."

"No arguments."

Before I can protest again, he slips out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

I wait until I hear his footsteps disappear before letting out a long breath.

Finally.

Time to get some work done before eight o'clock arrives.