So I rise onto my toes, press my lips to his cheek, and rest my forehead against his. “I love you,” I say softly. “So much. You know that, right?”
His hand tightens at my waist. “I do.”
And for once, I feel completely safe.
Maybe it won’t last forever. Peace never does in our world.
But tonight, I let myself believe in it anyway.
EPILOGUE: SIMA
TWO YEARS LATER
The little plus sign stares up at me from the counter.
For a second, I just blink at it. Wait for my brain to catch up with my eyes, becausewhat?That can’t be it. We’ve been trying for, like, two months. Three, tops.
But the test doesn’t change.
Positive.
My pulse picks up. I let out a shaky laugh and cover my mouth with both hands.
When I look up, my reflection in the mirror looks as stunned as I feel: wide-eyed, half-smiling, hair a mess. A perfect picture of disbelief.
I knew it. It’s early, but deep down, I knew. I’ve felt it for a week now: the nausea in the mornings, the exhaustion that hits out of nowhere and sends me straight to Nap Land. That strange, low pull in my belly that I remember too well.
The same signs I had when I was pregnant with Lilia.
Still, seeing it written there, clear as day, makes it real.
I’m pregnant.Again.
I rest a hand on my stomach, like I might feel something already. It’s too soon, of course. My future baby is still a tiny clump of cells, the size of a poppy seed at most. But still, my fingers linger.
Part of me wishes we’d had more time to try. Not because I didn’t want this. After two years, I feel more than ready. It’s just that it’s, well… fun. To try.
But apparently, when Petyr sets his mind to something, even nature listens.
I laugh again, softer this time. Nerves fizz beneath my skin, a mix of excitement and pure terror.
Then I grab the test, tuck it into my palm, and head for the door.
The house is quiet this morning. Sunlight streams through the hall windows. I can hear faint voices from downstairs. Petyr and Dimitri, probably, plus the delighted squeal of Lilia’s laughter.
The last two years have been kind to us. Kinder than I ever dared to hope.
As I walk downstairs, my gaze snatches on a text.
From Lara.
Still on for brunch with the little ones, Sisi?
My heart goes warm and fuzzy. After Petyr offered to get Lara out, things moved quickly. I don’t know the details, but what I do know is that, one night, she was at the door, her kids in tow. My sister. The one I thought I’d lost for good.
She’s thriving now, and so are her kids. The dark circles under her eyes are gone, replaced by laughter I hadn’t heard since we were girls.
She visits often, and Lilia adores her cousins. Watching them play in the garden, hearing their giggles echo through the courtyard—it’s the best feeling in the world. It feels like healing.
