Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“I still can’t believe this is our life,” she murmurs.
I look around, at the sketches on the table and the toys scattered on the rug, the photos on the walls, and the woman curled up beside me who gave me all of it.
“Believe it,” I whisper. “Because I don’t plan on letting it go. Not now. Not ever.”
We drift off like that, curled together on the couch. The moment we wake, we regret it, every joint stiff and sore for no good reason. We shake it off and slip into our usual morning routine. Katya showers and dresses, then wakes the kids and gets them ready for whatever adventures the nanny has planned.
I’m standing in the foyer, finishing a phone call about a shipment from Havana, when I hear the patter of little feet. Nikolai rounds the corner, his curls a mess, holding a toy truck in one hand and a juice box in the other like a warrior preparing for battle.
“Papa,” he calls, skidding to a stop. “Kira says I’m not allowed to hang my drawings on her art wall, but she said she could hang hers on mine.”
I sigh, crouch to his level, and tap the tip of his nose. “Because you hung yours with duct tape and peeled the paint off the wall.”
“But it looked good!”
Katya steps into the hallway then, laughing softly as she scoops Nikolai into her arms and kisses his cheek. “We’ll make you your own gallery, my love. But no duct tape, all right?”
She kisses Nikolai’s curls before setting him down. He takes off immediately, all rambunctious energy, leaving us alone for a moment.
I pull her to me, not daring to try and kiss her or start anything. There’s no time for that during our busy mornings. But this moment of stillness is rare, nonetheless. Usually, someone’s crying, someone’s knocking over furniture, someone’s calling me about an issue with the docks. But in this moment, we get to enjoy each other without any rush.
“I’m glad you didn’t run away at the beginning,” I say, pulling back just enough to look at her. “What made you change your mind?”
Katya smirks. “You did.”
“Me?”
“You proved to me that I was looking everywhere but right in front of me for my soulmate. You were everything I ever needed, I just had to open my eyes and heart to see it.”
I don’t speak. I just kiss her again, the kind of kiss that’s less about hunger and more about history. About what we’ve built. What we’ve survived.
When I finally pull back, I rest my forehead against hers. “And now you’re stuck with me for eternity, wife.”
“Best decision I ever made,” she whispers.
Later that evening, after dinner and bedtime stories, after Kira draped herself dramatically across Katya’s lap to complain about her brother chewing too loudly and Alina screamed until we sang her four songs and read three stories, we find ourselves on the back patio.
The stars are out, twinkling above the garden she’s worked so hard to cultivate. She’s wrapped in my hoodie, her paint-streaked sweatpants bunched at the ankles, a mug of tea cradled in her hands.
“Are we good parents?” she asks out of nowhere.
“What?” I ask, turning to her in confusion. “Where’s this coming from?”
She picks at a glob of dried paint on her pants. “I don’t know,” she sighs. “I’ve just been thinking of Papa lately. I thought he was a good dad at some point in my life. I must have or I wouldn’t have gone along with everything he told me.”
“I seem to remember you didn’t exactly follow his orders without a little rebellion,” I remind her.
“No, but I always did what he said. Even marrying you. At what point did he stop being a good father and start being a monster?”
I can tell this weighs so heavily on her, and I pull her against my chest, gently stroking her hair.
“You know, Mikhail’s been taking on a lot more of my responsibilities,” I tell her. “After Alina was born, I made the decision to step back as much as I could because I want our kids to always know that our family comes first to me.”
“I didn’t mean that you might end up as a monster,” she says wearily. “What if I turn into one?”
I lift up her chin to force her to look at me, and I hope she can see all the love and trust I have for her. “You are an incredible mother, Katya,” I tell her honestly. “Even though I never got to meet your mother, I bet she was just as good. She lives through you, and you continue to show that you only got the good parts of your parents. You are the least selfish person I’ve ever met. I’m not even a little worried about you becoming your father.”