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WHO WAS MOMMY?
publish date:
2026-09-12 15:04:46
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Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done BUSINESS COLLISION
MIREYA SARAI ORLOVI got to the Regal twenty minutes early because I wasn't about to let three months of chasing Marcus Lindqvist end with me walking in flustered. The lobby was all marble and quiet money, the kind of place where nobody raises their voice above what's necessary. I found the conference room number Elena had texted me, smoothed my jacket, and pushed the door open before I could talk myself into being nervous about it.Nikolai was sitting at the head of the table like he owned it, which, as it turned out, he basically did.I stopped so fast my folder nearly went sliding off my arm. He didn't even look up at first, just kept turning a page, a pen loose in his fingers, unbothered by the fact that I was standing there gaping at him."What are you doing here?"He finally looked up, in no hurry about it. "I'm the business partner.""You're not. Marcus Lindqvist is the business partner — that's the whole reason I've been trying to get this meeting for three months."The young
Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done TELL HIM I’M GONE
MIREYA SARAI ORLOVSunlight hit my face like an accusation and I was awake before I even opened my eyes, grabbing at sheets that didn't feel like mine because they weren't. I lay there a second longer trying to place the ceiling, the smell of cedar, the wrong color of the curtains, and then it all landed at once — the dinner, Cyril's crying down the hall, the way she'd gone still in my arms."Mommy's gone."A child who barely talked had said that to me. Not to her father or to the nanny who'd raised her. To me, someone she'd known less than a day, and I still hadn't worked out why that fact alone made it so hard to breathe.Children said odd things, I told myself. She was tired. She didn't know what she was saying half the time, probably didn't even remember saying it now.I didn't believe that for a second, but I got up anyway, because lying there picking at it wasn't going to change anything.___The bathroom mirror wasn't kind. Hair was everywhere, and my eyes rimmed from a night
Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done WHO WAS MOMMY?
MIREYA SARAI ORLOV “She won’t stop,” Nikolai said, his voice flat, worn thin at the edges. “I’ve tried everything.” I stood frozen in the doorway, watching him rock Cyril against his chest. Her whole body shook with the crying, small fists knotted into his shirt like she thought letting go would make him vanish. Her face was red, her breath coming out in short, broken hiccups. He rocked her slow and stiff, like he doesn’t fully trust his own arms to do it right and I moved towards them causing him to look up at me when the floor creaked under me. I didn’t answer right away. I was watching Cyril’s face over his shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut, tears sliding down in a steady track. Then she opened them and immediately she saw me, something in her small body changed. Her cries hitched, then dropped to shaky whimpers. Her fingers loosened from Nikolai’s shirt. She twisted in his arms, straining sideways, both hands stretching out toward me like I was the one thing in the roo
Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done THE SOUND IN THE HALLWAY
MIREYA SARAI ORLOVThe dining room smelled like rosemary and warm bread, candlelight flickering off the chandelier overhead. A maid set a plate in front of me without a sound, moving down the table to do the same for August, then Nikolai, then back toward the kitchen before anyone had said a word.Nikolai sat across from me, quieter than he'd been at the restaurant. There, he'd been all sharp edges and dismissiveness. Here, something about him sat lower, heavier, like the day had finally caught up to his shoulders. Every so often his eyes cut toward Cyril's high chair, then back, then away again, and he didn't seem to notice he was doing it.August lifted his glass toward me, color back in his face for the first time all night."Two awards in one evening," he said. "I don't believe I've ever seen anyone manage that.""It wasn't exactly planned." I smiled and August shook his head with a shrug."Neither was the heart attack. We manage regardless."I laughed before I could catch it. "T
Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done THANKS FOR THE OFFER, BUT NO
MIREYA SARAI ORLOV"If the two of you finally got married."My knees actually went numb for a second. I felt myself rock back on my heels, one hand finding the bed rail and for a moment I just stood there staring at him like the words hadn't fully landed yet."August." My voice came out thinner than I wanted. "Where is this even coming from?""What? You went on a date. You're my two favorite people in this room. I'm simply saying what I see.""No. August, you're not fine. You had a heart attack a few hours ago. You cannot be thinking about this right now.""Please. I know exactly what I'm saying."Nikolai stepped in beside the bed. His voice coming out low in away I haven’t heard before. "Granddad, please just go to sleep, you’re not thinking straight.""I'm thinking perfectly straight," August said, though his voice had worn thin from all the talking."You are not." I crossed my arms, mostly to stop my hands from shaking. "This is not a normal thing to say to two people right after
Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE
MIREYA SARAI ORLOV"What the fuck are you doing here?"He turned toward me with Cyril asleep against his shoulder. It was nearly one in the morning, and he still had that presence that made a room feel smaller around him. Broad through the shoulders and his jaw still set from the argument in the parking lot. The same composed stillness from the restaurant that had irritated me all night — and hadn't stopped being distracting, if I was honest with myself, even once."Who are you?" he said, before I could get anything else out. "Why do you keep showing up wherever I—""I could ask you that." I talked right over the end of his sentence. "This is the third time tonight. The restaurant, the parking lot, and now you're standing in this room like you own it.""I do belong here. This is my grandfather's room.""No, it's—" I stopped, then started again. "No. August is my grandfather. Not by blood. But close enough that it doesn't matter, not to either of us. I've known him for years.""That's
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