"Not as important as you."
She blushes. Even after everything we've done, she blushes when I say things like that.
"Your family is very..." She searches for the word. "Intense. In a good way. But I needed a break from all the...warmth."
I almost smile. "Too much Russian hospitality?"
"Your mother tried to teach me how to make pirozhki. I failed spectacularly. There's dough everywhere." She holds up her flour-covered hands. "I think I'm banned from the kitchen."
"Unlikely. My mother loves you."
"She loves the idea of you having a girlfriend. There's a difference."
"No. She loves you." I walk over to her, take her flour-covered hands in mine. "Everyone does. You fit here."
"I'm pretending, Konstantin. We both are."
"Are we?" I pull her closer. "Because it doesn't feel like pretending anymore."
She looks up at me, her expression uncertain. Vulnerable. "What are we doing?"
"Right now? I'm trying to figure out how to get you alone for a few hours."
"Your family is everywhere."
"I have an idea." I release her hands and grab my coat from the chair. "Come with me."
"Where?"
"You'll see."
I lead her downstairs, grab her coat from the closet, and help her into it despite her protests that she can dress herself. Then I take her hand and pull her toward the back door.
"Kostenka! Where you going?" My mother appears from the kitchen, covered in flour and wielding a wooden spoon like a weapon.
"For a walk."
"In the cold? Is snowing!"
"We'll be fine, Mama."
"You take her outside, you keep her warm! She is too skinny, she will freeze!"
"I'll keep her warm."
"And don't be gone too long! We have dinner at six! And you need to help Dimitri with the—"
I close the door on her protests.
Outside, the air is crisp and cold. Fresh snow has fallen overnight, covering everything in pristine white. The sun is starting to set, casting everything in golden light. Christmas lights from the house glow softly behind us.
"Where are we going?" Jemma asks.
"Nowhere specific. I just needed to get away from the chaos." I keep her hand in mine as we walk down a path that leads into the woods behind the house. "And I wanted you to myself for a while."
We walk in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The only sounds are our footsteps crunching in the snow and the distant sound of music from the house. The woods are beautiful—evergreen trees heavy with snow, everything quiet and peaceful.
"This is nice," Jemma says quietly. "It's been a long time since I've just... existed somewhere without stress."
