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Zasha flinched. “I don’t blame you. Yelena wouldn’t talk to me for days after you left. I was too stubborn to admit what I’d done. I said some ugly things about you, and I shouldn’t have.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” I said with a shrug that felt heavy. “If that’s how you feel, then that’s how you feel. My only question is, if you didn’t want me here for Christmas, why bother inviting me?”

“But I did want you to come.” He stepped forward. “Yuriy, I did. I was worried, yes. Who wouldn’t be? Yelena’s in her last trimester, and you and Mr. Zhukovsky don’t exactly have the calmest dynamic.”

“We get along just fine. In fact, too fine. Isn’t that what you had a problem with?”

He groaned, ripping his beanie off and crushing it in his palms. “Oh, come on. Even you know that shit is weird. He’s my father-in-law! But even then, I don’t get to choose who you sleep with. I just… I was scared things would blow up and hit Yelena and me. But it wasn’t my place to say anything about your life.”

“You’re right,” I said softly. “It wasn’t. Who I sleep with—whether it’s one man or five—is none of your business.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “I know. And I’m sorry. You’re the only brother I’ve got. Hell, you’ve been more of a father to me than our actual one ever was. I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for that. For everything you did. And instead of respecting that… I disrespected you. I was wrong. Yuriy, I don’t want our child to grow up not knowing you. Can we fix…this? Please?”

I clenched my fists inside my pockets. “I’m not going to pretend it’s fine. You have no idea what I’ve gone through to give you a life as normal as possible. To hear you say those things to me was a blow that’ll take time to recover from, but I don’t want to miss out on knowing my niece either.”

“So are we good?”

“We’re getting there.”

Zasha’s shoulders dipped, relief mixed with something like disappointment, as though he’d expected me to hug him or break down or react with more… emotion. But he swallowed it down, nodding back.

“I get it,” he murmured. Then, after a beat, “Do you… want to come back to the house with us? There’s no reason you have to stay at a hotel when your room is still available.”

I glanced over his shoulder.

A few yards away, Yelena stood bundled in her massive coat, talking animatedly to Stas. But Stas wasn’t listening. His eyes were fixed on me, sharp, assessing, worried. When he noticed me looking, he raised one eyebrow, asking a silent question.

You good?

My chest tightened painfully, but it was a good kind of pain that my life had been shit before him.

I gave him the smallest nod. His exhale fogged the cold air, the tension in his shoulders easing even as he kept watching me like he’d break the city in half if I said no. Or hurt his daughter’s husband.

Whoever would have thought that Stanislav would have looked at me like that?

I turned back to Zasha.

“Look.” I grinned. “I know this thing with Stas is… new and uncomfortable for all involved. Truth is, Stas and I have a newfound appreciation for each other’s, err…bodies. So it’s probably best if we stay in our hotel until we leave. Last time you freaked out over a kiss. God forbid you walk in on me balls deep inside your father-in-law.”

Zasha sucked in a deep breath, and his eyes bugged wide. “You mean you top him?”

I winked but didn’t elaborate. Zasha cleared his throat. “Yuriy… be honest with me. Is this real? You and Mr. Zhukovsky. Do you actually… like him?”

“No, I don’t like him.”

“But—”

“I’m in love with him.” A slow smile curled my lips as I stared at Stas. “For the first time, I get it, Zasha. Why you would run off and marry Yelena. I finally understand.”

Zasha blinked. Once. Twice. Like his brain blue-screened and needed a full reboot. “You’re serious.”

“I am.”

“But how’s it supposed to work?” he asked quietly. “You’ll have to keep your relationship a secret when you return to Chicago. You’ll have to hide. From everyone.”

“If that’s what it takes to have him, then that’s what it takes, but that man’s mine, and I’m not letting him go without a fight.” Stanislav had a puzzled expression on his face. Probably wondering why I was staring at him and grinning like a fool. “Besides… who knew ten years of trying to kill each other was actually just foreplay and courtship? In all those years, he’s learned me better than anyone. And I learned him. Makes a weird kind of sense.”

Zasha let out a breath that sounded like disbelief. I challenged him with a stare, daring him to say something, but he reached out and squeezed my shoulder, awkward but earnest.