Page 120 of Cashmere Cruelty

“No body, no crime.” Then, finally, April’s posture softens. “Thank you.”

The sheer gratitude on her face unnerves me. I don’t know what to do with it. In my line of work, you don’t get to hear those two words often. Even less so when you’re me.

Luckily, I’m saved by the man of the hour. “Hey,” Charlie calls to us both, “if you guys aren’t too tired, would you maybe… wanna watch a movie?”

He gets those last four words out all in one breath—wannawatchamovie?—like a schoolboy confessing to his crush. Honestly, it’s kind of adorable. Reminds me of Yuri at his age.

“If the boss is up for it,” I joke dryly with a glance toward April’s belly.

April rolls her eyes. “You’re never gonna let this one go, are you?”

“You scarred two of my toughest men.”

“Then maybe they’re not so tough.”

And maybe,I think to myself,neither am I.

That’s how we end up on the couch, all three—four—of us. It’s… strange. A quiet night in, but with company. Only it doesn’t feel forced—the atmosphere is as relaxed as it could be. Like we’re just an ordinary couple, having April’s brother over for pizza and a movie.

I glance over at April, curled up next to me, snuggled in a blanket. She’s laughing so freely. I’ve never seen her this lighthearted.

Next time, we’ll have to do things properly. Invite Yuri along. We could cook. April can’t be trusted with a stove, but I still remember the recipe of my mother’s goulash. It’d be fun. It’d be worth it.

And then, once the baby’s born…

We could celebrate together, I find myself thinking idly.Right here, just like this.

I don’t feel my eyelids growing heavy until it’s too late. Lulled by the movie, and the darkness, and the warm weight of April leaning against my arm, I do something I haven’t done in a long time.

I let down my guard.

I sleep.

36

MATVEY

A crackling fireplace. The scent of sweet smoke. Snow, just outside, rattling the windows.

It doesn’t matter, the snow. Even if the wind sneaks in from the cracks, chilling and biting, there is warmth. Warmth like fire. Warmth like a hug.

A mother. A child. Another endless night.

“Go to sleep,” the mother laughs softly. “If Daddy comes home, I’ll wake you.”

I don’t give a crap about Dad,the child wants to say.He can sleep in the snow for all I care.

But his eyelids are heavy, and his mother’s voice is warm, and her embrace is warmer, warmer, warmer still.

So the child cuddles closer, burrows into his mother’s arms, and sleeps.

I blink awake slowly. It takes me a moment to put my surroundings into focus: the couch, the television, the freshly cleaned kitchen. Morning light streams from the curtains, illuminating an empty living room.

Empty but for two people.

Or maybe I should say three.Inside April’s curled-up form, our child sleeps, tucked close against my chest.

When did we fall asleep?I wonder, sluggish.Why did we fall asleep like this?

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