My head snaps up. I didn’t even hear Petyr come in. “Hi.”
The mattress dips when he gets in beside me. His hand slides over my waist, warm and familiar. He pulls me closer like he always does, but I don’t melt into him this time. My body stays stiff. I don’t know how to ask without sounding paranoid or needy, but the silence between us feels more and more ominous by the second.
He notices. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs against my shoulder.
“Nothing,” I lie.
He doesn’t buy it. Of course he doesn’t. He’s always been able to tell my truths from my lies. From day one, I couldn’t hide a single thing from him.
He brushes his thumb along my side, slow and patient. “You’re shaking. Talk to me.”
I swallow hard. “What you said about wanting a boy… an heir…”
He pauses. “Yeah?”
“Is that still the case?” My gaze falls to my hands, fisted in the duvet. “Do you still…?”
There’s a long silence. I can feel him breathe against my back, steady, quiet. “I do,” he admits. “But that doesn’t mean I want her any less, Sima.”
“Of course,” I hurry to say. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Then what is it?”
“I just…” I take a deep breath. “I don’t know if I’m ready yet, Petyr. Lilia’s so small. I want to be there for her. Becoming pregnant again so soon, carrying another child… I’m not sure I want that yet. Not right now.”
“But eventually?”
“I mean, yeah. I want a big family. I just… I don’t want them to grow up like I did.” I force the words out, even if they’re painful. “I don’t want them to feel ignored. And I don’t want Lilia to think we had her just because we were trying for a boy, and then she wasn’t enough, so we?—”
“Sima.”
My mouth falls shut. I turn to Petyr and pray he can see the truth in my eyes. That he can read everything there that I can’t find the words to say properly.
I want everything with you. A family. Kids. I do.
But I want to make Lilia feel loved, too.
He looks at me for a long moment. I search for traces of anger on his face, but there’s nothing.
“I grew up in a world where having a son was the only way to guarantee your legacy.” He says it calmly, matter-of-factly. “It was drilled into me since I could walk. My father staked his will on it.” He exhales. “But it doesn’t mean I think that way anymore.”
“Don’t you?”
“I don’t know.” He turns his eyes to me. “Maybe part of me still believes it’s what I’m supposed to want. But it’s not what I need.”
“What do you need then?”
“You.”
My heart skips a beat.You.Not heirs, not an army of kids to feed to the Bratva’s ranks—me. Little old me, plain as they come.
My chest clenches. Tears gather at the corners of my eyes. “You mean it?”
“I do.”
“Even if I don’t want to try for a boy right now?”
Petyr sighs softly and gathers me into his arms. His chest is warm against my back, and I can feel the weight of his breath before he speaks.
