“Try.”
I set down the teacup. “Four months ago, you and Papa told me I had to marry a stranger to save the family. I hated you for it. Hated him. Hated everything about the situation.”
“And now?”
“Now the twins call him Papa. Now Maxim brings pastries on Sunday mornings. Now I wake up in Luca’s bed, and it doesn’t feel wrong anymore.”
My mother reaches across and takes my hand. “That’s good, Anna. That’s very good.”
“Is it? Because I didn’t choose this. I didn’t choose him. And now I’m falling for someone who forced me into marriage and threatened to take my children.”
“But he didn’t take them. He became their father instead.”
“That doesn’t erase what he did.”
“No. It doesn’t. But it shows he’s capable of change. Of choosing family over power.”
“Is he? Or is he just good at making me believe that?”
My mother squeezes my hand. “What does your gut tell you?”
I think about Luca reading bedtime stories. Building train tracks. Wearing the flower crowns Mila makes. Asking me about having more children like he’s planning a future with me.
“My gut tells me he means it, but I’m scared to trust it.”
“Of course you are. Men like Luca don’t change easily. They don’t give up power or control without reason. The fact that he’s doing it at all is remarkable.”
“But will it last? Or will he wake up one day and decide this was all a mistake?”
“I don’t know. No one knows. Marriage is always a risk.”
“This isn’t a normal marriage.”
“No. But it’s yours. And from what I’m seeing, it’s working. The twins are thriving. You’re happier than I’ve seen you in years. Luca is present and committed. That’s more than many marriages have.”
“He still does terrible things. He had my friend threatened. He kills people who cross him. He runs criminal operations.”
“I know. Your father and I know exactly who Luca Volkov is. We knew when we made this arrangement. But he’s also the man making pancakes with your son on Sunday mornings. Both things can be true.”
“How do I reconcile that?”
“By accepting that people are complicated. That good men do bad things and bad men do good things. That your husband is both the criminal who forced this marriage and the father who reads dragon stories to his children.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s not meant to be reassuring. It’s meant to be honest.” She leans forward. “Anna, listen to me. If you’re falling for him, let yourself fall. Don’t hold back out of fear or pride. Life is too short to waste on what-ifs.”
“What if he hurts me?”
“Then you survive it. Like you’ve survived everything else. But what if he doesn’t? What if this is real and you’re too scared to let yourself have it?”
“I don’t know if I can trust him.”
“Then start small. Trust him with the twins. You already do that. Trust him with the small moments. Build from there.”
“And if he breaks that trust?”
“Then you’ll handle it. But give him the chance to earn it first.”
