He kissed my forehead.
“We’ll be back before you know it,” he said.
“Don’t get shot,” I whispered.
My voice shook, so naturally I made it worse.
“I mean it. You cannot die before you learn to make one edible pancake. That would be terrible character development.”
Ivan’s eyes flashed. “Impossible. I still have lattes to make, a baby to meet, and a dog who clearly loves me best.”
From the dog bed, Fergus snorted in his sleep.
“That sounded noncommittal,” I said.
“He adores me.”
Gregor grunted. “He tolerates incompetence selectively.”
Ivan pointed at him. “You mind your business.”
For one breath, the room almost felt normal.
Then Artem’s hand slid to the back of my neck and everything narrowed back down to him.
“Gregor will keep you safe,” he said. “Surrey is secure.”
I grabbed his jacket. “Just come back. Please.”
“I swear it.”
Then he kissed me with hunger and urgency and the kind of promise that left bruises. For one foolish second I held on like I could keep him there through sheer stubbornness.
Then he pulled away.
Ivan grabbed his coat. Artem picked up the black phone.
Neither of them looked back when they left, which somehow made it worse. If they had looked back, I might have begged them to stay. If I begged, I would hate myself. If I hated myself, I would cry. And if I cried, Fergus would bark and Gregor would probably classify it as an incident.
So I stood there with my hand on my stomach and listened to the locks thud shut behind them.
The flat felt enormous after that.
A week ago, I had barely been able to turn around without bruising myself. Now there was a new sofa, a bigger bed, an archway, fresh walls, room for a future I had not agreed to and had somehow stepped into anyway.
Gregor moved methodically through the flat, pulling the blackout curtains closed one by one.
The city disappeared.
“We need to move,” he said.
“I want to stay here.” The words came out dangerously close to a pout.
Gregor turned and gave me the look of a man weighing the risk of arguing with a pregnant woman against the risk of ballistic attack.
“Maeve. Until the council is settled, this is not secure.”
“It’s my flat. Who knows about little old me?”
