I press a hand over my mouth. "Oh my God, I'm having a baby. I'm freaking out. I know nothing about babies!"
"Every mother's felt that way," she squeezes my shoulders. "Congratulations, mama."
Something inside me bursts into laughter. Then tears. Then laughter again. I'm an emotional blender on high speed. Natalia laughs too, pulling me into a hug so tight it feels like the best one I've ever gotten.
"Nikolai is going to be thrilled," she says.
"You think so?"
"Of course." She steps back, smiling. "He's wonderful with Pasha. You've seen him."
I picture Nikolai teaching Pasha to fix model cars, the soft way he listens when Pasha talks about space, the faint smile when he watches him sleep. My chest aches in that sweet, too-full way.
"Pasha's going to be a big brother," I whisper. "He's going to be so excited."
"He'll be the best," Natalia agrees. "So protective."
"And Nikolai will be a good dad."
"He already is one."
I nod, throat too tight for words. We move back to the bed, both buzzing with giddy energy.
"I can't believe this," I say, staring at the test like it might vanish. "I was complaining about tuna sandwiches, and now I'm apparently manufacturing a human."
Natalia laughs softly. "That's usually how it happens."
We spend the next half hour in a delirious haze of baby speculation. Boy or girl? How would Pasha react? Would Nikolai faint? Would Viktor send cigars or bodyguards?
By the time the laughter fades, reality sneaks back in.
"When are you going to tell him?" Natalia asks gently.
I trace a circle on the bedsheet. "Tonight. After Pasha's in bed. I'll make dinner, light candles, pretend I'm the kind of wife who has her shit together."
"You don't need candles. Just tell him."
"Easy for you to say. You're not married to the human equivalent of a steel vault."
She smiles, but something behind it flickers. Just for a moment. A shadow that passes too quickly for me to name, gone before I can ask. Like she's thinking about something she can't say.
"He's different with you," she says after a beat. "Softer."
"Yeah," I agree. "He is."
"He'll be happy, Elle."
"I hope so." But the truth is, I already know he will be. Beneath all that steel and gruffness, Nikolai loves hard.
By late afternoon,the shock has mellowed into a warm, glowing hum. I'm in the backyard, lemonade in hand, feet up, and pretending this is all perfectly normal.
Natalia's beside me, hat shading her face, looking more relaxed than I've ever seen her. For a brief, blissful moment, it almost feels normal. Two women. Sunshine. Citrus.
And secrets, of course.
"Do you feel any different?" she asks.
"Other than the overwhelming urge to eat pickles dipped in whipped cream? Not really."
