Even if it’s the only other option, it still makes my heart ache anyway. “With what kind of life? One with guards, guns, and everything you still keep from me?”
“It won’t be like that, I swear,” he says, but even as he tries to sound convincing, there’s a lingering touch of uncertainty in the way.
“You don’t know that,” I murmur, crossing my arms over my chest uncomfortably. “I’m trapped, Ivan. Again. But now, it involves another life.”
“This isn’t a trap,” he returns, expression sharper now. “You’ve seen my brothers and their wives. Elena too. If anything, this baby couldn’t be safer, or more surrounded by people who care.”
Shaking my head, I can’t put myself in their shoes yet. I’m not one of them. “Even if that’s true, I didn’t choose this, or you, or this impossible position you’ve put me in.”
Ivan blinks back at me then, looking more like I’ve struck him. For once, he’s almost startled, but mostly burned. “You regret being with me.”
Seeing him like this hurts more than I expect it to, and it takes all of my power not to break. “Iresentthat everything in my life always has a cost.”
The words are heavy enough to bring a stifling silence to the room, and as much as I want to run away from this, I can’t.
Instead, I sink down onto the edge of the tub with a hand on my stomach while fear and resolve fight inside me, completely unaware of how I’m supposed to do this. How can I be a mother, or how I can avoid the emotional neglect I face every day. I only know I refuse to let that happen again.
Surprising me, Ivan kneels in front of me, carefully reaching for my free hand. He takes me in, eyes offering me something kinder. Something full of understanding and determination. “We’ll figure this out, Mila. You’re not in this alone.”
I want to believe him, and I want to have faith that this doesn’t have to mark the end of my life, or where I stop being me.
But I’ve always learned to never get my hopes up, regardless of how badly I want it to work.
Chapter 19 - Ivan
Despite nothing changing physically about the condo, it feels different somehow.
Really, I know it’s because everything else is changing, and in ways that haven’t for a very long time in my life.
Mila’s pregnant, and while that certainly wasn’t on either of our to-do lists, it’s something we have to face now.
It still doesn’t feel even remotely real in my mind, like it’s so foreign that I can’t even make sense of it. Even so, I’m not prepared to walk around like it isn’t real, or pretend like this responsibility isn’t something I’m willing to step up for.
Regardless of what she has assumed of me so far, I don’t ever want her to feel trapped because of this, which is why I even brought up our options in the first place. I put it out there for her sake, but now that I know she would rather have the child than resort to any other measures, I don’t have to pretend likehandlingit was what I ever wanted to do.
At another point in my life, not following through with this would be a no-brainer, and certainly my first resort. Before, having a baby would’ve gotten in my way, and I wasn’t interested in having one with anyone I had been with.
Settling down wasn’t ever on my mind, but now, even that part of me has changed, as hard as it is to acknowledge on my own.
I should be panicking, and part of me is, since having a child with Mila complicates just about everything. Yet, I can’t ignore the satisfaction that exists beneath it all. It’s not triumph or feeling like I’ve won. Instead, it feels like she has a reason nowto truly see me, and to understand who I am and what I stand for.
Whether I knew it or not, I’ve wanted her focus this whole time. I’ve wanted her to look at me and know with absolute certainty that I am what she wants. Above all, I’ve been wanting her to decide I’m worth the hassle.
That leaves me feeling more vulnerable than I’d like, but if it means gaining her loyalty and her attention, then it’s something I have to bear.
I don’t know what all of that says about me, but I do know that I want this, regardless of how it’s forcing me to shed my old skin in a sense. Now more than ever, I can’t be the man I used to be. That part of my life must stay behind me, for her sake, and for our child.
Nobody else knows yet. Not Roman or the others, even if they usually have a keen sense for figuring out this kind of thing. For now, it’s my knowledge to carry, and in a way, this secrecy of ours feels oddly sacred. I want to keep it that way for as long as we can.
In the wake of finding out about the pregnancy, I give Mila space.
I’m there when she needs me, but I’m being careful not to hover and not to try to manage her emotions like something I need to control.
Even if we’ve come to an agreement on what we’d like to do, she needs room to breathe and come to terms with it all on her own time. If she needs to spend it furious at me, or grieving everything she has missed out on before, then so be it. I won’t stop her.
Still, every time I pull back instead of rushing in like I want to, and every moment I’m not right by her side only strengthens the truth I’m carrying with me now.
I’m determined to see this through, and to be the man she needs me to be. I want her to see that I don’t plan on disappearing when things get complicated, and I have no intention of reducing her pregnancy to a strategy or obligation.
