Since then, every day with him has felt like a gift.
We spend most of our time in New York. But we make it back to Alaska several times throughout the year. Which Katya loves, of course.
Nikolai and I don’t mention Andrei’s name. I don’t know what happened to him. And I don’t ever want to find out.
I hear Nikolai’s footsteps on the stairs, and my heart does that familiar flip it always does when he's near. A year of marriage, and the man still makes my pulse race like a lovesick teenager.
Probably because he fucked me senseless this morning before breakfast.
And last night.
And the night before that.
Turns out, married life agrees with both of us.
Nikolai rounds the corner, and my breath catches the way it always does. He's wearing dark dress pants and a t-shirt that hugs his broad shoulders and muscular chest. His dark hair is slightly tousled, and those ice-blue eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that makes my toes curl.
"There you are,solnyshko," he says, his deep voice rumbling through me like distant thunder.
"Here I am," I reply with a smile.
He crosses the room and settles beside me on the sofa, pulling me into his arms.
He presses a kiss to my temple. "Merry Christmas, my love."
"Merry Christmas."
For a moment, we just sit there in comfortable silence, watching the snow fall and the fire dance. His hand rests on my hip, his thumb tracing lazy circles through the softness of my sweater.
Tell him.
The thought has been gnawing at me for days. I've known since Monday and keeping it from him has been absolute torture. But I wanted to wait. I wanted to give him this gift on Christmas morning, when we're back in the place where everything began.
Where he kept me captive.
Where he made me fall in love with him.
Where he took a bullet that was meant for me.
"I have something for you," I say, breaking the silence.
"You already gave me something this morning," he says with a grin, referring to our shower together, when I dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth. “And I have to admit, it’s going to be hard to beat.”
“This is something different entirely,” I say, laughing as I reach for the envelope behind me and hand it to him.
He takes it with a curious lift of his brow. "An envelope?"
"Open it."
I watch his face as he slides his finger beneath the seal and pulls out the small black-and-white image inside. For a moment, he just stares at it, his expression frozen.
"What is this?" he asks slowly.
My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat.
"Your son."
The words hang in the air between us, electric and alive.
