My hand moved to my stomach—still flat, no sign of what was growing inside—and pressed against the skin.
A baby. There was a baby in there. A tiny cluster of cells that would become a person. A person who was half me and half Vasily, who would have his green eyes or my dark hair, who would grow up in a world I couldn't yet imagine.
I took the second test just to be sure. Same result. Two lines. Positive. Pregnant.
The tears came then—not grief or fear, but something more complicated. I sat on the cold bathroom floor and cried for the life I'd lost, the life I was living, and the life that was just beginning inside me.
When the tears finally stopped, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Red-eyed, pale, exhausted.
But alive. Changed. Carrying something precious I hadn't known I wanted.
"Okay," I whispered to my reflection. "Okay. We can do this."
I didn't know if I was talking to myself or the baby.
Maybe both.
***
I didn't tell Vasily that night.
I'd planned to. Had rehearsed the words in my head all afternoon, trying to find the right way to deliver news that wouldchange both our lives. But when I heard his voice on the phone—tense, distracted, clearly exhausted—something held me back.
This wasn't news for a phone call. I needed to see his face. Needed to watch his reaction, to know whether the pregnancy was something he wanted or another complication in a life already drowning in them.
"How are you?" he asked, and I could hear the effort it took him to focus on me when his mind was clearly elsewhere.
"Fine. Working on the Athens analysis. Yelena's been taking good care of me."
"Good." A pause. "I'm coming back tomorrow."
My heart stuttered. "Tomorrow? I thought you said—"
"Things have changed. I'll be there by evening."
Something in his voice made my skin prickle. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing you need to worry about."
"Vasily."
"I mean it, Gabrielle. Everything is under control. I just need to be there. With you."
The intensity in his voice sent warmth spreading through my chest. He needed to be with me. Whatever was happening in New York, whatever crisis was demanding his attention, he was dropping everything to come back.
I wanted to tell him. The words pressed against my teeth, desperate to escape. I'm pregnant. We're having a baby. Everything is about to change.
But I held them back. One more day. I could wait one more day.
"I'll be here," I said instead. "Waiting."
"I know." His voice softened. "I miss you, little dove."
"I miss you too."
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."
