This may be unceremonious, but it’s all I can do not to call a fucking priest and haul him up here right now in the middle of the night.
Nina blinks. She looks at her hand, sporting the antique engagement ring of polished gold and diamond, which had belonged to Vanya’s mother.
Then she looks back at me, her mouth dropping open as she pushes my chest.
“That is not a proposal.”
“You’re right, it’s not.” I dip my head to hers and look her right in the eyes. “I’m not proposing. I’m telling you. There is no question about it. You had my child, and this is what you get. You’re stuck with me.”
“You’re angry at me?”
“I’ve never been happier to be stuck with someone, Nenoka. But yes, I’m fucking furious. You didn’t tell me.”
Her eyes drop away from mine, her face shuttering. “I tried,” shesays quietly.
“No. You didn’t. You ran.”
Nina sits on the bed with a sigh, pulling me with her. Looking so beautiful, so regretful, that I’m tempted to forgive her before she even opens her mouth. Then she turns to me, face-on, and starts to explain.
“I came here. The day I left. Your mother was here?—”
“Polina was who you were seeing?”
Her delicate brow creases as she looks up at me, her breath catching in her throat.
“Yes, Nina,” I rake a hand through my hair. “I’ve watched the CCTV tapes of that day. A thousand times. You walked into the house with your head held high and then rushed out like you needed to get away. I know you were here that day.”
“I came to see you. To catch you when you got back from Chicago on a business trip so I could tell you.”
“But I never saw you that day.”
“Polina invited me in, and I told her everything. You know what my family are like. I was glad to have someone to talk to, someone who could give me advice.”
I swallow. I know what Polina’s advice is like.
Poison.
It all comes together then. Ivan said she’d been in the house for more than an hour. What the fuck was she talking to Polina about during that time?
Nina sees my expression and nods her head. “Exactly. She told me…” Tears spring to her eyes.
I’m still confused as hell, but I can’t let her cry without comforting her. I pull her onto my lap. I brush a tear from her cheek as she looks up at me.
“Polina was so kind at first. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, served me tea and cakes, and didn’t wait for me to announce anything. She already knew I was pregnant, Art. She said it had been obvious, all month, and she couldn’t believe I was studying medicine and I hadn’t figured it out.
“At first, she was lovely and warm, sharing stories from her own pregnancy, telling me what to expect. I’d been doubting myself every day, agonizing over whether to tell you, and for the first time I let myself hope that it would all be okay. She treated me like I was part of the family already.”
I shake my head, squeezing her shoulder. I know this isn’t going to end well.
My mother is nothing if not a master manipulator. She can spot someone’s weaknesses from a mile away and emotionally devastate them. It would be impressive if it wasn’t sociopathic.
“And then she told me that you weren’t there,” her voice cracks, “because you didn’t want to see me. That you’d left it to her to deal with me. She told me I should get rid of the baby, because I was clearly not equipped to be a mother. Your family would sue me into the ground if I claimed a cent of child support. It was like a switch had flipped, and she was suddenly the coldest, most uncaring person.
“But I believed her. She was so convincing, Art. She told me you were engaged to some Russian woman, showed me photos of you together, said the wedding was scheduled.”
Karolina.
Polina had tried to set up an engagement between us immediately after Nina left. I’d always assumed there was some kind of money in it for her, that Karolina’s uncle in Russia had promised more business for the Petrovs if I’d agreed.
