Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“I missed you so much, Mama,” Simi sniffles while snuggling deeper into my embrace.
“I missed you, too.”
I hear Tanya move and quickly glance in her direction. She pauses at the door, glaring at me. “If either of you causes trouble, Ivan will deal with it.” Her mouth curves into a triumphant smile as she steps into the hallway. “Boris sent for me.” Smug laughter bubbles over her lips. “Can’t keep my man waiting. Enjoy your two hours with the brat because I know I’ll enjoy my time with your father.”
Bitch.
I turn my attention back to my daughter and move her to the corner where her toys are, aware of Ivan standing near the door, watching us.
Simi lifts her head and looks toward the door, then back at me, her expression brightening. “She’s gone.”
“For a little while,” I murmur as I stretch out onto my stomach, propping my chin on my hand. “Looks like I get my girl all to myself. Do you want to color?”
A tiny smile blooms on her face, all sweetness and love, and she pushes her coloring book closer to me, the page partially covered with wild circles and uneven patches of color.
“This is us,” she whispers, pointing at the top corner.
I study the two crooked figures she’s drawn, one much taller than the other, and point to a yellow shape hovering above us. “And what’s this?”
“The sun.”
God, what I’d give to walk outside with Simi.
She lies down beside me, and with our heads close to each other, I ask, “What did you do today?”
She shrugs. “Tanya watched her show and said if I made any noise, she’d spank me.”
I hate that woman so much.
Simi looks at me. “I kept quiet, Mama.”
My heart constricts in my chest. “You’re such a good girl, milo moe.”
We begin to color, our crayons moving over the paper while she narrates everything she draws. She gives flowers names, insisting the blue scribble is a pool we’ll one day have when our prince comes.
She hooks her left hand through my arm and holds on to me as if she’s scared I’ll suddenly disappear.
I drop the crayon and smooth my fingers through her hair, pressing tender kisses to her temple. “I love you so much. You fill my entire heart.”
When Simi glances at me, I give her an affectionate smile.
She tips her head to the side and whispers, “You look prettier when you smile.”
I brush my thumb over her cheek. “I only smile for you.”
She grins happily, then rolls onto her back, her fingers gripping my arm.
“I wish we could stay together all the time,” she says, her tone sad.
I reach over, tuck loose curls behind her ear, and let my hand linger against the softness of her cheek. “I’m with you even when you can’t see me.”
After a while, she looks at me with wide eyes and whispers, “Is the prince still coming?”
For one dangerous moment, Georgi’s face pushes into my thoughts, but I force the thought away and focus on my precious daughter.
“Yes,” I tell her softly. “He’s still coming.”
“When?”
I pause, hating that I have to lie to her. Forcing the smile back to my face, I reply, “Soon.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You always say soon.”
I tap her nose playfully. “That’s because the prince will come at the exact right time and only he knows when that will be.”
Ivan lets out a snort, which I ignore.
Simi thinks for a moment, then asks, “What if he gets lost, Mama?”
“He won’t.”
“What if he forgets?” she asks another question.
I gather her closer until her head rests on my arm. “He won’t forget us.”
Forgive me for all my lies.
Satisfied, she lifts her hand to my face and traces her fingertip around my eyes, nose, and mouth.
“Mama, do you miss me when I’m gone?”
The urge to cry strikes so hard, I have to blink fast to keep the tears back, and my voice is hoarse as I reply, “Every second of every single day.”
“Even when you eat?”
Nodding, I press a kiss to her chubby cheek.
“Even when you sleep?”
A sad smile touches my mouth as I look into her innocent eyes. “Yes.”
Her fingers play with a lock of my hair while she studies my face. “You look sad, Mama.”
“I’m happy right now,” I answer honestly.
She searches my eyes as if checking whether I’m telling the truth before lifting her small hand to my cheek. Turning my head, I kiss her palm.
For a long while, we lie together, just staring at each other.
“When I grow up big, I’ll protect you,” she whispers as if she’s sharing a secret with me.
I press my mouth to her hair and wrap my arms tightly around her small body. “That’s my job, malka.”
“It will become my job too,” she insists.
I kiss her forehead, then each of her cheeks. Letting my fingers drift through her hair, I can’t stop touching her and savor every second I have with my baby girl.