Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
If it meant raising my child without having to lie to my husband, I’d throw everything away.
He slowly puts the test back down and wraps the toilet paper around it.
He looks at me, his expression hard.
“Go home, get some sleep, and get married in the morning,” he says.
And just like that, I’m alone again.
Alone like in Paris, alone like in that dress shop.
Alone in Alex’s apartment, alone with the truth about this baby.
“How?” I ask him.
“You just do it. You know what will happen if anyone finds out about this? You know the consequences?”
“I know,” I tell him because I’ve thought it through a thousand times already.
“You don’t.” His voice is hard. It’s harsh, almost angry. “It would be a war, Natalya. The Italians would take this as the ultimate insult. They’d kill me, and they’d try to kill your brother and your father. They might even try to kill you. If they find out that baby isn’t your husband’s, people will die.”
I open my mouth to argue—
But I know he’s right.
These people, they only know family, honor, and violence. This baby will ruin everything, ruin the alliance my father’s building, and it’ll tear the city apart.
People will die if anyone finds out.
Not just people in my family—but Zeitsev soldiers and Italians too.
Men that have nothing to do with my stupid mistakes will lose their lives because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.
“You want me to bury it,” I say, feeling so empty.
“You have to bury it,” he agrees. His face is pale and his hands tremble as he clenches them into fists. “We forget we ever had this conversation.”
“But Alex—“
“Please,” he says and that word tells me everything. It sounds like he’s in agony, but he made up his mind and there’s no changing it. “This is the only way you can have a life now, Natalya. This is the only way you can be safe.
We bury it, and I bury myself too.
I turn away from him. I can’t bear to look at him anymore. I know he’s right, and that’s the worst part.
But if he had wanted to run away—
Well, it doesn’t matter anymore.
I walk away, numb, floating, and leave the pregnancy test behind.
Chapter 12
Natalya
Waves of white tulle and lace spread out around my hips as I sit in front of a mirror cross-legged on the floor.
I look like I’m lost in the dress. At least the puke stain is gone. I touch my straight blond hair, touch my plain face, and touch the mirror, trying to ground myself. Nothing works. It’s like I’m sinking down into the floor, spiraling faster and faster and faster, and the only thing that slows me down is putting a hand over my stomach.
Over my unborn child.
It’s my wedding day. In two hours, I’m going to walk down a makeshift aisle in one of the oldest Catholic churches in America, and I’m going to pledge my life to a man I barely know.
All while carrying a secret so heavy I’m afraid it might crush me.
There’s a knock at the door. I ignore it, but Lev pokes his head into my room anyway. He frowns at me down on the floor and steps closer, looking supremely uncomfortable as he takes in the state of me.
“Do you, uh, need any help?” he asks.
“Actually, that’d be great. Could you do my hair while I finish my makeup?”
Panic swells in his eyes. “I mean, I don’t, I could maybe—“ I laugh, covering my mouth, and he lets out a long, relieved sigh. “That was almost mean.”
“I’m fine,” I tell him as the laughter dies down and I go back to floating. “What time do I need to be ready?”
“Cars leave in an hour and a half. Is that enough time?”
“Let’s hope so.” I turn back to the mirror and don’t move. I should be doing something, but the thought of lifting my arms right now feels almost too much to bear.
Lev doesn’t leave. He watches me, concern apparently in his eyes, and can I really blame him? I feel totally catatonic, and it’s a small miracle I managed to get this dress on.
“Want me to hunt someone down?” he asks awkwardly. “Maria maybe? Or Irina? I know they’re kind of bitchy—“
“I’d rather throw myself out a window than deal with them right now.” Which really isn’t me being dramatic. It’s just the honest truth.
“I don’t even blame you.” He crouches down next to me and puts a hand on my arm. “I know this is hard. I’m sorry you’re going through this right now. But I really think that in a while, maybe a few weeks or months or years or something, you’ll be happy again one day. Your husband isn’t such a bad guy.”
I tilt my head and study my brother. “You say that like it means something. Not such a bad guy. Like it’s a point in his favor that he’s probably not going to hit me or something.”