Page 70 of Knocked-Up Bratva Prisoner

We hike for two hours—and she only wipes out one more time—before we reach the viewpoint I’ve been telling her about for two days.

“Oh…my…word,” she exclaims loudly as she stands near the edge of the very steep cliff, looking out across the expanse of trees below us.

“I told you.” I step next to her and wrap my arm around her waist. She leans her head against me.

We are both a little out of breath from the climb up here.

“That walk was a challenge, but it wasone hundred percentworth it.”

“If we did that walk twice a week, we’d get a lot fitter, and it would become easier,” I say without thinking.

She looks up at me, a sad smile on her face, spreading into her brown eyes. Then she looks away and shrugs. Brushing off that thought. The same one I was having.

I can’t make comments like that when we both know this isn’t a real relationship and there are no future plans to be made. No routine hikes to be had twice a week.

“Lunch time,” I say enthusiastically to change the subject.

“Oh good, I’m starving. What are we having?”

“Lobster.”

Her brows knot together in confusion.

“I’m kidding.” I laugh.

“This hardly felt like the right time for lobster,” she grins, shaking her head.

“We are having salami and cheese sandwiches, fruit and these cool little iced coffee milkshake things.” I shake the bottle, because that’s what it says I should do on the label.

We sit on a massive boulder. Clara has her legs crossed in front of her and a happy smile on her face as she thoughtfully stares out over the view and eats her sandwich.

I am watching her, also lost in thought, but feeling a heavy emptiness creeping in like a sinister reality that I want to keep denying even though it is becoming more and more challenging to do so.

I’m too attached, and I need to be more careful about what I say and even what Ithink.

My time with her is limited. A ticking clock that is quickly running down.

After lunch, we start the hike back down towards the house.

Clara is chatting and full of life. Nature suits her. She seems to brighten in the forest, coming out of her shell and appreciating everything around her.

She keeps stopping to touch the trees, the moss, the long grasses, running her fingertips over everything as though she is trying to imprint it all into her memory.

She collects a few little rocks, and a few little sticks.

“What are you going to do with those?” I ask, stepping up alongside her.

“I have no idea—it just feels like I’m finding these awesome treasures everywhere. I can’t help picking them up because I want to hold them.” She laughs.

I slip my fingers through hers, holding her hand as we walk.

It feels like the most natural thing in the world.

I never was good at listening to the warnings in my head.

We only live once, after all. I may as well make the most of every moment I have with her.

Arriving back at the house, we are both full of energy and feeling incredible.

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