“Oh.”
“I want you to hear me out first. I don’t want you to make any rash decision. I don’t want you to … leave. I don’t want you to make the choice of freedom. You can, by all means, do that, but I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you to disappear or to go. I’m … I know I’m not the ideal kind of guy. I’m not sure what love is. I’ve never felt it before, but what I do know is that I love waking up next to you in the morning. I love hearing you talk and listening to you sing, even though you’re also not very good at singing.”
This made me laugh. And I felt tears sting my eyes.
“I … I wanted our baby,” Peter said. “I wanted it so much, he or she, I didn’t care, and I want babies with you. I want to grow old with you.” He glanced behind me. “I want to come home on my birthdays to surprise parties. I don’t have the first clue about being a dad, but I know I want my kids to look forward to me coming home. Maybe I’ll teach them how to survive, but I’ll do it our way.”
I loved how he said “our way.”
“I’m asking you, Niamh, no, I am begging you, to choose me, because I do honestly believe if I know what love is, then I know I love you.”
The tears that had been glistening in my eyes started to fall down my cheeks.
“Fuck, I didn’t want you to be sad,” he said. He reached out and wiped away my tears. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.”
I pulled the velvet box out from beneath the blanket. “I was going to give you this tonight. It’s for your birthday.”
He looked at the box.
“Don’t worry, it’s not a bomb or poison, but look at it.”
He took the box from me and opened it up.
“I didn’t know what to get a man who had everything, but then I realized you didn’t have everything, but you could. You didn’t have a woman who loved you, but I do. I don’t know love, Peter, but I know how I feel, and I love you. I love you with all my heart, and I want to be your wife. I want to have children with you, I want to grow old with you. I want it all with you. Does that make me greedy?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
He took the ring out of the box and I watched, terrified in case the ring didn’t fit, but it slid right onto his finger. I had guessed at the size. Did this mean Peter and I were destined to be together?
In that moment, it felt so fucking right, and I threw myself into his arms, not wanting to let him go. Not now. Not ever.
He belonged to me, just as I belonged to him.
Epilogue
Niamh
Five Years Later
I watched as my husband and our five-year-old son and three-year-old daughter were in his arms by the edge of the pool, and then they jumped inside. I laughed as he pulled them out of the water. He was teaching them to swim, and he promised me he wouldn’t just throw them into the water.
Both of our kids had on armbands to help them float to the top. Not that they needed it. Peter wouldn’t allow them to drown.
When I’d given Peter that wedding ring five years ago, I had done so not knowing I was already pregnant with our son, Ivan Peter Orlov. Peter had insisted we name our son Ivan. As for our daughter, I knew it was a risk, but I had named her Kaitlyn. In a strange way, if it hadn’t been for Kaitlyn, Ivan would have never been in the hospital, and I’d have never met him. I wouldn’t have known Peter, and I wouldn’t be one happy woman enjoying the sunshine in the backyard.
I was also four months pregnant with our third child.
Peter loved when I was pregnant. We loved having kids.
Our marriage wasn’t perfect. There were times we did fight and didn’t quite meet eye to eye, but we never broke up. We always came back together and figured out how to make it work.
Ivan had known that I’d not said a word about what I knew about Kaitlyn, and after he learned about my pregnancy, I had the Volkov tattoo wrapped around my wrist. I had wanted it around my ankle, and I knew Ivan had been tempted to give me what I wanted, but all the wives of the Brigadiers who had earned their places held the same ink in the same place. It was ivy surrounding a V. It was a beautiful, delicate design.
With our son and daughter paddling in the water, Peter swam toward me, pulling me into his arms. I laughed as he tickled my armpits before sliding his arms around my waist.
“How are my precious bundles?” he asked.
This made me smile. “I’m feeling like the size of a tank, but I think he or she is okay.”