Finally—finally—Mila’s eyes close, her little fist still clutched in Dimitri’s shirt. Carefully, oh so carefully, he lowers her into the crib with a caution he once reserved for handling explosives, as if one wrong shift might set off something far more dangerous than a bomb.
We both hold our breath as she settles. When she stays asleep, Dimitri exhales in relief.
Even after ten months, he’s still sometimes amazed that this tiny, perfect person is his responsibility. That she’s ours.
We tiptoe out of the nursery, and once the door clicks shut behind us, Dimitri pulls me into his arms.
“Your parents are coming over in an hour,” he reminds me.
I sigh. “I know.”
He must hear something in my voice because he pulls back to look at me, his face inquisitive. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I say quickly.Tooquickly.
His eyes narrow slightly. Over the past year, we’ve learned to read each other like books. “Vera,” he says warningly.
Dammit. “I just…” I take a breath. “I have something to tell you. Before they get here.”
His expression immediately shifts to concern. In the past year, we’ve had our challenges—adjusting to parenthood, managing two families, dealing with the occasional territorial dispute, etcetera, etcetera, but we’ve faced everything together.
“What is it?" His hands are gentle on my arms. “Are you okay? Is it Mila? The families?”
“Everyone’s fine,” I assure him. Then I take a deep breath and just say it. “I’m pregnant.”
The words hang in the air, and Dimitri stares at me. “Pregnant.”
“Again,” I confirm, wincing slightly. “I know Mila’s only ten months old and we didn’t exactly plan this. I know it’s fast and we’re still figuring out one baby and?—”
I don’t get to finish because he’s kissing me. It’s deep and passionate and so full of joy, I can feel it radiating through him.
When he pulls back, he’s grinning, and it’s such a rare, genuine expression that still takes my breath away every time I see it.
“You’re pregnant,” he says again, but this time, it’s full of wonder. His hand goes to my stomach, palm spreading wide like he’s already trying to feel the life growing there. “We’re having another baby.”
“We’re having another baby,” I confirm, starting to smile at his reaction but then biting my lip. “Are you... are you happy? I know it’s sooner than we planned?—”
“Happy?” He laughs—that same laugh Mila inherited. “Vera, I’moverjoyed. Another baby. Another little person to love. Another piece of our family.”
He kisses my forehead. My cheeks. My lips.
“You’ve given me everything,” he says softly, his eyes soft and full of love. “A real marriage. A daughter who has me completely wrapped around her finger. And now another child.” His hand presses more firmly against my stomach. “How could I be anythingbuthappy?”
I’m crying now (goddamn pregnancy hormones already making themselves known) and he’s holding me, both of us swaying slightly in the hallway outside our daughter’s nursery.
“I love you,” I whisper. “I love our life, our family. Everything we’ve accomplished.”
“I love you too.” His voice is rough with emotion. “So much it still scares me sometimes. The thought of anything happening to you or Mila or…” His hand flexes against my stomach. “Or this one. You’re my whole world. All of you.”
We stand there for a long moment, just holding each other.
I think about how far we’ve come, from that forced marriage to this. From enemies to a love so deep it’s become the foundation of everything good in our lives.
“I want you,” I murmur against his chest.
He pulls back to look at me, one eyebrow raised. “Your parents will be here in an hour.”
I raise my eyebrow to match his. “Then we’d better be quick.”
