Are you planning to stay here now? To be with your family during this time?
My fingers fly over my screen, typing fast.
Matteo
Would you judge me if I said HELL NO? My plans aren’t changing in the slightest. I already packed my bags. I’m coming with you unless your father shoots me down.
Anya
Our texts are a judgment-free zone, remember? :)
Matteo
You’re the best. And I’m coming with you, I don’t care what else is going on. I’ll tell my dad our plan after dinner, and I’ll call yours after I come see you. I don’t want to waste anymore time, even on a phone call.
Anya
You’re the best too. See you soon.
I somehow manage to sneak out of the house less than two hours later and make it to the hotel quickly after. The luxury building Dad put Anya and Mikhail in is one of our best properties that’s close enough to the house for special guests to stay. And of course, we put them in the best, most secure suite. They have their own rooms, and a shared living space, kitchen included.
Anya and I end up putting a movie on in the living room, while Mikhail does some work in his bedroom—with the door wide open to keep an eye on us. Though there’s a movie playing, we spend almost every minute of our time together talking.
She asks about Jade and Rayna, wondering about how far along they are, and how the celebratory dinner went.
I ask her more about how she’s been spending her time since coming home from the program.
We talk about the ballet, and she asks me what my favorite parts of it were. She asks if I’ve ever been to a show before, and I tell her that was my first one.
“I thought so,” she muses, smiling almost smugly about being right in her assumption. “I was wondering why your family had box seats if you’ve never been though. Does anyone use them?”
“Well, I…” I almost wince, figuring out how to reply to that. “My dad’s mother used to keep box seats there, but she died young—before any of us ever met her. So no one had used them in over a decade when I called to ask if we still had access to the seats.”
Anya’s brows drawn in confusion. “When did you call?”
“When you sent me your first text,” I admit, trying not to blush like a loser. “I thought it would be nice to have them on standby if you ever came to visit. Even if you never came to visitme, you’d have somewhere to take Isobella and Jade for a little girl’s day or something.”
Her eyes go dewy and I swallow hard.
“You’re the most thoughtful person I’ve ever met, Matteo Moretti.”
“It’s not hard to be thoughtful when it comes to you,Anya Morozova.”
Her breath catches and her cheeks tint pink as she looks back at the television screen, hiding her face from me with her brilliant honey hair.
“I’m glad I was brave enough to come here,” she murmurs, peeking over at me once more. “I’m glad you want to come back with me, too.”
“So am I.”
So glad in fact, that I put off calling her father for permission for hours after leaving her for the night. I spend far too longbeing worried that he’ll turn me down, that when I finally pick up my phone to call him, I’m sweating.
It takes a few moments before the ringing comes to an abrupt end.
“Matteo,” he answers, voice raspy with what sounds like fatigue. “Why are you calling me at one in the morning?”
“Sorry,” I say with a wince. “Did I wake you up? Isn’t it only ten there?”
He lets out a quiet huff. “You didn’t wake me up, but you would have if you called five minutes later.”
