Page 117 of Crowned

This time I’m happy.

This time I want it to be positive, and the men crowding around me in the bathroom? I love them all.

We all wait, not speaking, for the test to develop. Grinning at each other, but not too much because we don’t want to be too disappointed if the test is negative. It will probably be negative because four days late is nothing.

“It’s been two minutes,” Kirill says, glancing at his phone.

I take a deep breath and glance at the test.

“Oh, wow,” I breathe, staring at the two lines. It’s really happening, and I’m filled with nothing but joy.

I hold the test up to them, smiling. The anticipation on their faces is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “Congratulations, daddies. We’re having another baby.”

EPILOGUE

Lilia

“Do you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

The obstetrician is holding the ultrasound scanner over my belly in her latex-gloved hands, and she pauses to smile at each of us. I’m laying in the chair with my bump exposed.

Konstantin has three-and-a-half-year-old Viktoria in his arms. Kirill has baby Mila in a pram. Mila has her father’s dark eyes and curls, and where Viktoria is sweet and inquisitive, Mila is demanding and full of mischief.

Elyah is close by my side, holding my hand and shifting restlessly, his eyes glued to the screen.

We do this dance whenever I’m pregnant, and this third time is no different.

“Tell us. Do not tell us. No, wait, tell us.” Elyah pushes his hands through his hair. “It should be surprise, but I want to know.”

I watch Elyah with a smile on my face and my hands folded across my belly. When he runs out of steam and clenches his head in his hands in agony, I remind him, “Elyah. We never find out the sex of the baby. We always find out when they are born, remember?”

He takes my hand. “But it is not fair. Konstantin and Kirill already know that they have daughters. I need to know if I have son or daughter.”

The baby is probably Elyah’s. It’s difficult to know, though. Things get messy among the four of us.

I burst out laughing. “That’s because Viktoria and Mila are already here.”

The obstetrician waits patiently for us to finish our discussion. After three pregnancies and all of us coming to her office for every checkup, she’s used to our nonsense by now.

Elyah turns to her with a groan and says, “Thank you, but we will wait.”

Konstantin tuts and shakes his head with a smile. “So impatient, Elyah.”

“I am. Do you want to give Mommy a kiss?” Elyah asks Viktoria, and she holds out her arms to him as readily as if she were his daughter. Which, of course, she is.

“Who’s Mommy’s good girl?” I ask her, tweaking her nose and accepting a kiss on my lips from her and then Elyah.

The obstetrician has more things to tell me and we listen to her describe the baby’s progress. Viktoria puts her head down on Elyah’s shoulder and closes her eyes. He absentmindedly rocks her back and forth in his arms.

Over his shoulder, Konstantin is watching me with a smile touching his lips. His scars have faded a little over the years, but they’re still very visible on his face. He’s never mentioned getting surgery to fix them and I doubt he would. Those scars remind him of how close he came to losing everything, and the things that made him the man he is today.

Besides, I think he likes the way they make him seem even more intimidating.

At the end of the appointment, Kirill helps me to my feet and settles my jersey dress back into place over my bump. Then he breathes in my ear, “You are so sexy like this,detka. It reminds me of Prague.”

“With my bump?” I smile and brush my fingers over the nape of his neck. That little apartment in Prague feels like it belongs to another lifetime. So much has happened since then. I was a scared, pregnant woman in hiding, but that place will always be special to me because I fell for these men in that Prague apartment. And they for me.

As we walk out into the sunshine, I take a deep, happy breath. Our family is growing. There are six of us, with a seventh on the way. For all of us except Elyah, our family is dead to us, either literally or figuratively.

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