Niko’s smile is huge. “I ever tell you I love your wife?”
“I ever tell you you’re gonna end up in the Hudson?”
He barks out a laugh. “It ain’t a good day unless you do.”
“I’m going back up to my wife,” I reply with a roll of my eyes.
“Oh, and Maks?” He calls after me once I've started leaving so I pause and wait for him to continue talking. “You’re allowed to lean on her, you know? Him, too.”
I don’t respond, just simply go back to the bedroom, put more wood on the fire, and climb into bed with her. She blinks those gorgeous green eyes at me; brows knitted together in concern. “Are you alright?
I nod. “Millie had the twins. Sasha’s glowing.”
She gazes up at me, a soft smile on her face and moves around so she can put her head on my chest. I let my fingers get tangled in her silky hair, doing my best not to touch her back. “One day that will be us. Exhausted from late night feeding and changing diapers. You’ll glow, too, Maksi. Fatherhood will look incredible on you.”
My heart sputters with want and hope. “Soon?”
She pushes up to kiss me, lips firm and plush but pulls away too quickly. “Soon, love. For now, let’s catch up on sleep? Tildy will be here way too early, and I’d like to soak these next few moments with you before she’s in my hair.”
I kiss her once more and rest my head on the pillow. I fall asleep thinking of my wife holding our first child, raising them in the mansion… I want her future—the one she envisioned for herself—and make it ours.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sabrina.
“I think I’m pregnant.”
Damon’s silver eyes go wide at the confession I’ve just blurted out into the open. He hurries to close the door behind me and makes a motion for us to sit opposite each other in the small study he’s been using, apparently doing his usual sessions across the pond via tele. “Sabrina, when you said you wanted to talk this early, I thought you meant about… everything else. This…”
“Well, you’re a doctor, aren’t you? Psychiatryandinternal medicine?”
“Yes,” he sighs with a nod. “Have a seat and tell me your symptoms.”
“Alright, well, every day I threw up when I was at the estate. Morning, noon, night. I couldn’t hold anything down. And my period was supposed to come ten days ago but, well, it’s been ten days, Damon. I’ve only been late once in my life. And I was pregnant then.” He opens his mouth, but I shake my head. “It was Kane’s. I terminated the pregnancy. As soon as I knew.”
He nods once in understanding, no judgement in his gaze or his face. “Are you currently on birth control?”
“I am. But, there’s always that three percent chance, and I’m at my three-year mark. I should be getting it exchanged soon. Actually, I was supposed to have it removed before… well…” I trail off.
“I see.” He thrums his fingers against the arm of the winged-back chair and sighs. “I’m not sure the physician is still here nor that he would have a pregnancy test available. Let me… let me call him.” He gets up and goes to the small desk that holds his laptop, grabbing his phone and making a call. He doesn’t avoid making eye contact with me necessarily, but he is looking at every corner as he speaks to the physician. “Yes, thank you. I’ll step out.” Twin silver flames shoot to me as heshoves his phone into his pocket. “He’s just outside. Luckily, he has a few in his case he uses to verify women in certain… traumatic situations aren’t pregnant in case he has to use strong painkillers. So, I’ll be right back.”
He leaves me alone for the next ten minutes or so and comes back with a small package and a small cup. “Right in there.” He points to the bathroom as if I didn’t spend entire summer holidays in this home.
I stare at the cup in my hands and look back up at him.
“It’s um… you pee in the cup.”
“Right.” I nod, then retreat into the bathroom and open the package. “Why’s this got a dropper?” I ask through the door, holding up the little plastic torpedo. “Aren’t I just supposed to whiz on the stick?”
“You’ll… pee in the cup and use the dropper to—”
“Got it!” I interrupt him, slightly mortified. With a sigh, I wiggle my wool leggings down, use the cup to catch my pee, set it on the counter, finish my business, wash my hands, and… do the thing. I watch the urine race to the little strip inside. With a sharp inhale, I dump the contents out in the toilet, throw the entire cup away as well as the packaging, and wash my hands again. I lean with my back against the wall and try to count to a hundred and eighty seconds. My leg bounces with nerves at the possibility I may have a little Maksim in my belly.
Is it time?
Are we ready for this?
I just got him back.
