“Because he was going to tell you,” I lie smoothly. I don’t know why I’m lying to him. Alexei kept making excuses for why we couldn’t go public with our relationship. But I can’t tell Dimitri that. I want to tell him anything to ease that pain in his eyes. “He was waiting for the right time. He wanted to figure out howto make you understand that we were serious. That it wasn’t just some fling.”
Dimitri stiffens. “When?” He asks roughly.
“Soon.” Another lie. “He said after the next family meeting he was going to talk to you and explain everything. He was going to ask for your blessing.” I’m making this up as I go, but I need him to believe it so he can have something other than betrayal to remember Alexei by. I trace the pattern in the arm chair, trying to keep my thoughts together. “He loved me, but he loved you more. He would never have—he wouldn’t have kept it secret forever.”
I watch his face process what I said, desperately wanting to believe this fiction I’m spinning.
“He was waiting for the right time,” Dimitri repeats, like he’s trying to wrap his mind around it.
“Yes.” I lean forward, needing him to accept this. “He didn’t want to hurt you. He just wanted to find the right way to make you understand.”
For a long moment, he just stares at that photograph. Then, so quietly I almost miss it, “That baby is the only piece of him I have left.”
Suddenly, all the pieces click together. All the control, the suffocating attention—it’s not about me at all.
It’s about Alexei and not losing another person he’s responsible for protecting.
“I won’t lose it too,” he continues, his voice rough. “Ican’t. Do you understand? I can’t lose another—” He stops, jaw clenching and he takes a shuddering breath. “I won’t.”
It all makes horrible sense.
The constant monitoring. The doctor visits. The demands that I eat, rest, stay healthy. His rage when I don’t follow orders.
He’s not trying to control me. He’s trying to protect what’s left of his brother.
He’s terrified.
Terrified of losing the baby. Of failing to protect this last piece of Alexei the way he thinks he failed to protect Alexei himself.
“You won’t lose it,” I whisper. “I promise. I’m taking care of it. I’m doing everything I can.”
“Are you?” His gaze locks with mine and there’s so much pain in those gray eyes it steals my breath. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re getting thinner. You barely eat. You’re exhausted all the time. And I don’t know—” His voice cracks slightly. “I don’t know how to help you.”
The admission feels raw and vulnerable, a stark contrast to the authoritative Dimitri I thought I knew.
“You can’t help me,” I say gently. “Not with the morning sickness. That’s just... that’s just how pregnancy works. It gets better eventually. But right now, it’s hard.”
“Then what can Ido?” He asks desperately. “Tell me what to do to make this better. To keep you both safe.”
Give me space, I want to scream.Stop monitoring me all time. Trust that I’m doing my best to stay alive while this baby tries to kill me.
But I see it now. The fear beneath the control. The terror beneath the demands.
He’s not being cruel he’s beingdesperate.
It doesn’t excuse the suffocation or make the constant surveillance okay. But it explains it. Kind of.
And that realization makes everything infinitely more complicated.
“You could…” I start, then stop, plucking the blanket that’s covering my knees. Dimitri’s eyes lock onto my movements and a funny look crosses his face when he notices the blanket. What can I ask for that won’t trigger that fear? “You could trust me. Just a little. I’m not trying to hurt the baby. I want it to be healthy as much as you do.”
He searches my face, looking for... what? Deception? Truth? I have no idea.
“Okay,” he finally says. “I’ll try.”
It's not much. He’s not really promising anything, but it’s still something. An acknowledgment that maybe he’s been too controlling and maybe I deserve some small measure of trust.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
