"Oh god."
"Then he put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger."
Silence. Long and heavy.
"I stood there for hours," I say quietly. "Couldn't move. Couldn't scream. Just stood there, looking at them, covered in their blood."
I hear her stand. Cross the room. Then her arms are around me from behind, her face pressed between my shoulder blades, and she's crying. I can feel her tears soaking through my shirt.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry."
"I made a decision that night." I turn in her arms, look down at her tear-streaked face. "I decided I would never love anyone. Never let anyone close enough to destroy me the way my mother destroyed my father. The way he destroyed her."
"Leonid—"
"For thirty-eight years, I kept that promise. Built walls so high no one could climb them. Told myself I didn't need anyone. Didn't want anyone." I cup her face, brush the tears from her cheeks. "And then you walked into my life, covered in blood, asking for a family. And every wall I ever built came crashing down."
"I love you," she says fiercely. "I love you. You're not your father. You're not—"
"I know." I kiss her forehead. "I know that now. Because of you."
She clings to me, and I hold her, and for the first time in thirty-eight years, I don't feel alone.
We stay like that for a long time.
Eventually, she pulls back. Wipes her face. Looks up at me with something vulnerable in her expression.
"I need to tell you something."
My chest tightens. "What?"
"I don't know if it's—I mean, I haven't taken a test yet, but—" She bites her lip. "My period is almost a week late."
The world stops.
"What?"
"I didn't want to say anything until I was sure. I didn't want to get your hopes up if it was nothing. But after what you just told me—" Her voice breaks. "I don't want there to be secrets between us. Not anymore."
A week late. Her period is a week late.
"We need a test." I'm already moving toward my phone. "I'll have someone bring one."
"Leonid, it's fine, I can just go to the store—"
"I'll have someone bringten." I'm typing, sending messages. "Twenty. However many they can carry."
She laughs—watery and overwhelmed. "You're insane."
"I'm thorough." I pull her back into my arms. "When did you notice?"
"A few days ago. I kept telling myself it was stress, or my cycle being weird, but..." She looks up at me. "I'm never late. Ever."
My hand finds her stomach. Presses flat against it. There could be a baby in there.Mybaby. Growing inside her right now.
"I want this," I say roughly. "Whatever the test says—I want this. I want you. I want a family with you."
"I want that too."
