pounding like a jackhammer in my ears.
Where the fuck am I? What is going on?
My mouth felt dry, a heavy grogginess working its way through every single one of my limbs, making it almost impossible for me to move. The last thing I remembered was fighting in the Arena. The flash of a gun. The pain of getting struck in the chest. Falling. A complete wave of disorientation. Nikolai.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and struggled to push past the haze that controlled my mind. There was some sort of repetitive beeping noise swimming around in my head. It reminded me of what you’d hear in a hospital, like a heart monitor. Was that where I was?
It made sense, given the last few bits of fragmented memories I could make out.
The heaviness over my eyes slowly started to fade, and I used all of my strength to open them.
I was right. I was in a hospital. The room brought back painful memories of the last time I’d been in a room like that, but I shut them out. I locked them back away in that little corner of my mind where I refused to go.
Nikolai was slumped forward at my side, his head resting on his forearm, hand clasped over mine. He was sleeping. Lines of exhaustion marred his face. His hair was a dishevelled mess, his clothes all rumpled and dirty. They looked like the same ones he’d been wearing in the Arena. Had he not rested the entire time I’d been out?
Bloody hell, probably not. This man, I swear.
I licked my dry lips, shifting my body slightly. I didn’t want to wake him, especially considering how tired he looked. My whole body ached. Pain throbbed from everywhere. My chest. My legs. Even my goddamn toes. Everything hurt.
Now that adrenaline wasn’t flooding through my veins, masking the pain, I could feel everything. And it fucking sucked.
I was covered in wires. Some of them stuck to my chest, some of them to my forehead. They ran from me to the monitors surrounding the bed, keeping track of my vitals.
The floor-to-ceiling glass door in front of me slid open, a short, plump woman in a nurses outfit stepping into the room. She gave me a warm smile.
“Oh, you’re finally awake—”
“Shhh,” I whispered, placing a finger to my lips. Her eyes flicked to Nikolai sleeping beside me and she raised the clipboard in her hands to cover her mouth.
“Sorry,” she mouthed when she took it away. She stepped further into the room, coming to stand next to me by the bed. “I was beginning to wonder if he ever slept. He’s been awake since the moment he brought you in,” she whispered softly.
“Just out of curiosity, when was that?” My voice was hoarse, my throat all scratchy. It made me cough.
She handed me a small styrofoam cup filled with water. The name on her badge read “Marie”. I thanked her and drained the whole cup in one gulp. The refreshing liquid slithered down my throat and I moaned.
“You’ve been here just over a day.” Marie checked the monitor, writing down a few readings onto her clipboard. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” I answered honestly.
“I don’t blame you, given the condition you came in. Severe concussion, cracked rib, a few cuts, intensive bruising, multiple finger sprains. The list goes on and on. That must have been one hell of a car accident your boyfriend here pulled you out of.”
“It was,” I agreed, lying easily. I wasn’t surprised to hear that he’d come up with some sort of cover to explain my injuries. It’s not like he could have walked into the emergency room and said “Oh, she was hurt trying to rescue me from a gladiator-style, fight to the death tournament. You know, same old, same old.”
“Was anyone else brought in with me?” I asked, removing the tubes from my nose. I was dying to know how the others were. If anyone else had been hurt. What happened after I passed out.
“Just you. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for the last twenty-four hours. We’ll keep you here for another day or so, just to monitor your concussion, and then you’ll be free to go. Don’t worry, we’ve noted your pre-existing condition in your file, so if you need to come back for any reason, the proper precautions can be taken.”
“Pre-existing condition?” I groaned, trying to sit up without jostling Nikolai.
“The pregnancy,” she smiled.
My brows snapped into a frown. “I think you’ve got the wrong file there. I’m not pregnant.”
Her frown matched mine. “Uhh.” She flipped through her clipboard, riffling through the papers. “This is awkward.”
“What is?”
“You were in quite a bit of pain when you arrived. We always run a blood test before administering morphine, and the results revealed you most certainly are pregnant. Very early stages, only about two weeks or so. But definitely pregnant.”
I stared at her, her words taking a little longer to process than they usually would.
Pregnant…pregnant…pregnant.
My mind just kept repeating the word over and over again, like it was waiting for me to catch on and understand the significance of what she’d just said.
Oh, god…what? How? Nikolai and I used protection every time we had sex. How strong were his goddamn swimmers?
“I’m sorry if this isn’t good news,” she said softly, offering me a sympathetic pat on the hand.
“It’s not that. It’s…well…” It wasn’t not good news, right?
Of course I always wanted to try and have another child. But that was years from then, when I’d had the chance to properly heal from the trauma of Nikolas’ death.
It was too soon. I couldn’t go through what I went through last time. There’s no way I’d survive losing another child.
My eyes flicked down to Nikolai, still fast asleep. “Does he know?”
“The boyfriend? No.” she shook her head. “Doctor/patient confidentiality.”
I nodded, slightly relieved. I needed time to process that information before even trying to tell Nikolai.
“Tatiana, please let me take the blindfold off. You’re making me nervous.”
I glanced over at Nikolai in the passenger seat of the car, a flicker of amusement running through me at the sudden paleness of his complexion.
A week had passed since the hospital. Since I found out I was pregnant. And I still don’t think I’ve come to terms with it. Not really.
On one hand, I was excited. Happy. Elated. The idea of a little baby, the chance to do it all over again—the right way, with the right outcome—was an opportunity I didn’t think I’d get for a very long time…if ever.
On the other hand, I was absolutely stone-cold terrified. Terrified that what happened last time would happen again. It was a crippling kind of fear. The kind that literally took my breath away. I think I had at least ten panic attacks in the last seventy-two hours alone.
And poor Nikolai. He had no idea what was going on. Why, all of a sudden, I was gasping for air. Shaking. Feeling like I was going to pass out. But he would soon.
It was the day I was going to tell him. There was just something I had to do first.
“What’s the matter, Nicky? Don’t you trust me?” My hands glided across the steering wheel as I took a turn, a chuckle bubbling up in my throat when Nikolai released a high-pitched sound that I could have sworn was a squeal of fear.
“Behind the wheel while I’m blindfolded and can’t see what’s going on? No. No, I don’t.”
I rolled my eyes. “Relax. I’m not going to kill us.”
“Tell that to the cyclist you hit.”
“He was fine! He got right back up. I’m an excellent driver.”
“I’d believe that if you weren’t—” his words cut off as I swerved abruptly to avoid a car on the road, and he grunted when his head thumped against the window, “—driving like a goddamn manic,” he hissed. “That’s it. I’m taking this off—”
“No, don’t!” I slapped a hand over his eyes to keep him from removing the blindfold.
“Two hands on the wheel, Tati!” he screamed in distress.
“Alright, alright. Just don’t take it off.”
“I won’t, just tell me you have two hands on the wheel. Please.”
“I do. Jeez, you really don’t like it when I drive, do you?”
He chose not to answer. “This is ridiculous,” he breathed out, but he didn’t try to take off the blindfold again. “Why do I need to wear this?”
Because I knew once he saw where I was taking him, he’d want to turn right back around.
“Because I don’t want you to recognise where we’re going and ruin the surprise. Just sit back and relax. We’re almost there.”
“That’s impossible with you driving,” he mumbled. “By the time we get there, I’ll have aged thirty fucking years.”
“Oooo, silver fox Nikolai? That’s a version of you I can definitely get behind.”
He chuckled that deep, bassy laugh that always sent goosebumps crawling over my skin.
Sweat slicked my palms, nervousness flooding my veins. While I was confident Nikolai wouldn’t abandon me again, I couldn’t say for sure how he was going to react to the news when I told him. The first time he’d found out I was pregnant, he’d been ecstatic. But like for me, this news came with scars.
Would he truly be happy about it?
I honestly wasn’t sure.
We made small talk as I continued driving, being mindful not to do anything crazy or erratic that might send him into cardiac arrest.
Things had been hectic for the Bratva since the whole Til Death Games fiasco. Although all of the Volkovs had come out relatively unscathed, there was still a lot of unfinished business. Talon had made a run for it the moment we’d infiltrated the Arena. He was still in the wind. Dimitri was hell-bent on finding him though, devoting all of his time and resources to trying to locate him.
Illayana had finally gone back home with Arturo. I honestly didn’t think that man was ever going to let her out of his sight again. I felt a little bad for her. He was plastered to her side like a goddamn shadow. And her guards? Well, before they’d left, Arturo had burrowed the ring and absolutely demolished them. Poor guys.
I turned right and drove down a dirt driveway, passing slowly through the gates. My heart sped up at the sign, a wave of sadness washing over me. I pulled the car over and turned off the engine.
“You can take the blindfold off now.”
“Thank God.” He removed it and his whole body went rigid beside me as he took in our surroundings. “Tatiana, what are we doing here?”
The smile I gave him was one filled with sadness, pain and despair. “Come on.” I opened the door and stepped out of the car. The cool breeze blew my hair off my shoulders and rustled leaves across the ground. It swirled all around me, bringing with it the scents of freshly dug soil, damp moss and rain.
I made sure to grab my handbag before shutting the door and walking around the side of the car to come face to face with Nikolai.
“I don’t want to be here, Tati,” he whispered, so softly that I barely heard him. Tension rolled off him, his mesmerizing blue eyes filled with anxiety. With loss. With grief.
My heart broke and I felt bad for putting him in such distress, but it was something I felt we both needed to move forward. To take the next step. To finally put the past behind us.
“I know, my love.” I held out my hand in offering and waited. If he really didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t force him. It had to be a choice he made without any prompting from me.
He exhaled heavily, his breath coming out shaky, and placed his hand in mine. I squeezed it tightly in support and then led him down the stone pathway onto the grass. I didn’t need to see where I was going. If I wanted to, I could close my eyes and still get to where I needed to go without a single misstep, because I’d been coming here once a week for the last two years.
I stopped walking and dropped to my knees, running a finger lovingly down the headstone. “Hi baby, Mama’s here.”
Nikolai stood like a statue behind me, his face passive, hands clasped together in front of him. He avoided looking at the grave, his eyes roaming over everything except what was right in front of him. Like he couldn’t bear to look at it, couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge what we were doing in this place.
I pulled out the little bouquet of flowers from my purse and placed them on his tiny grave, tears blurring my vision. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it last week. Mama was dealing with some things. But I brought your dad to come and visit you.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I urged Nikolai to come closer with a small wave of my hand.
He hesitated, face contorted with a mixture of pain and anguish. “Why are you doing this to me?” he whispered sadly. “Are you trying to hurt me?”
Sympathy washed over me. “No, Nikolai. Of course not.” I hooked my fingers around his and pulled him down. He reluctantly slunk down beside me, watching our son’s grave with trepidation, the pain in his eyes as clear as day.
“Do you know I come here almost every week?”
He didn’t respond, but I had a feeling he did.
“At first, I avoided it.” I looked at the headstone, the words “NIKOLAS IVAN VOLKOV” like a dagger to the chest. “After we buried him, I couldn’t bring myself to come here. To allow myself to think of him gone. But then I realised this was the only place I could go to be with him. To be close to him. To talk to him. So I started coming once a week. I’d just sit here for hours, telling him how much I missed him, the giant hole his absence left in my heart.”
Tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t respond, staring numbly at the headstone.
“I wanted to apologise to you.”
His head snapped to me, eyes full of confusion. “What the fuck do you have to apologise to me for?” The ludicrousness layered in his voice made me chuckle softly, like he couldn’t fathom the idea of me apologising to him for something.
“After Nikolas died, I was so…angry.” I readjusted my position, sitting down to cross my legs. “Angry at what happened. Angry at life. Angry at…you.”
Anguish flashed across his face. “I’m so sorry—”
“No, stop.” I gripped his face with both hands and forced him to look at me. “You’ve said sorry a million times now, over and over again. Now it’s my turn to say sorry to you.” I smoothed out the frown in his brows my words had caused with my thumb, admiring all the small little details of his face. The slight crook of his nose. That strong jaw. Eyes that sparkled like the ocean. “I was so blinded by my anger and grief, I never realised what I was doing to you was the exact same thing I was punishing you for doing to me. I abandoned you. I left you to grieve his death all on your own. I never gave you the chance to mourn properly because I made you promise not to say a word to anyone. Then I just disappeared. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, Nikolai, but I’m here now. I’m here now if you want to say goodbye to our son.”
He closed his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks and then he leant forward, burying his head into my chest. His whole body shook as he sobbed quietly, and I soothingly rubbed a hand up and down his back.
I wasn’t sure how I knew. Call it intuition, or maybe it was just the fact that I knew him better than anyone else in the world, but I knew he hadn’t really allowed himself to grieve Nikolas. That instead, all that time, he’d just kept those emotions buried deep in his mind and pretended they weren’t there.
That was partly my fault. I understood that and I felt horrible for it. My insistence on ignoring what happened and refusing to acknowledge it had made him feel like he couldn’t mourn, because there was no one else he could talk about it with except me.
The guilt of that decision would stay with me for a long time.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Nikolai finally leant back, his eyes bloodshot. I placed a soft kiss on each eye, first the right, then the left, before finally giving him a kiss on the lips, one filled with all the love and care I felt for him.
He kissed me back, wrapping me up in his big, strong arms and holding me tight. “I love you. I love you so much.”
I smiled, caressing the side of his face. “I love you, too.” Now was as good a time as any. “I have something to tell you.”
“What?”
I pulled out of his embrace and picked up my purse. He watched me, slightly confused, as I fished around inside it until I found what I was looking for. I offered it to him. He stiffened, his gaze whipping from me, to the sonogram, back to me. Back and forth, back and forth.
I waited patiently, letting him process the information however he needed. He was completely shell shocked. Like I had been. No surprise there, really.
“How-how-what—”
“You apparently have some very strong fucking swimmers. See this, here”—I pointed to the little thing that looked like a peanut—“This is baby number one. And this”—I pointed to the second little peanut—“is baby number two.”
He reared back as if I’d slapped him. In a way, I guess I had. It was just with startling information instead of my hand.
It had been quite a shock to me too, when I found out they were twins. I’d only really just come to terms with being pregnant when the doctor had dropped that little tidbit. After I left the hospital, I decided to book an appointment with my OB and see for myself if I actually was with child. They’d run a prenatal ultrasound and boom, there they were: two little blobs on the monitor.
“T-twins?” he stuttered. He hesitantly reached for the sonogram, like he was afraid it might disappear or something. He looked at it, running a finger lovingly over the surface. “Twins,” he repeated again, this time stronger, more certain. With confidence.
The shock morphed into happiness. His lips slowly curled into a big, beaming smile and he launched himself at me, encircling me in the tightest hug. “I promise things will be different this time, Tati. I promise I won’t let you down.” He placed a hand on my stomach. “I won’t let any of you down.”
His eyes, so filled with love and tenderness, stared deeply into mine, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt he meant every single word.
He kissed me, softly at first, but like it always did with us, it ignited into something more.
