Page 72 of Forced Marriage Vows

She tells us many more stories and we both listen attentively. I find myself falling in love with a little boy I’ve never met. It’s easy to do so, especially since I know he’s a part of Mikhail. After a couple more minutes pass, I get up to make us some snacks in the kitchen.

When I return, they’re both laughing about something.

“You used to be a terrible cook, Mikhail. Remember how we almost got food poisoning?” Sierra asks, her eyes dancing playfully.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re being dramatic. Also, I bet I could out-cook you now.”

“And I see you still have that inflated ego,” she says, shaking her head.

“I’m serious about the cooking,” he tells her before his eyes meet mine. “Tell her, baby.”

I settle down beside him after placing the freshly squeezed juice and crackers on the table. Mikhail’s hand immediately goes around my waist.

“It’s true,” I agree. “He’s a better cook than me, which was extremely surprising to learn. I guess I have you to thank for that.”

“You’re welcome,” she says triumphantly.

They start talking about something else in the past and I fall silent, listening. A part of me can’t believe it was that easy to resolve things between them. It’s almost like they picked thingsoff where they left off without missing a beat. It seems easy between them.

I try to pretend it doesn’t bother me. These feelings are irrational, after all. When it’s time for Sierra to go, I give her a hug and ask her to text me with updates. It’s already late by the time she leaves and I’m exhausted.

Mikhail has to take an important work call so I go on ahead to our bedroom to prepare for the night. I take a shower before settling in bed with my laptop. I’m going through the flash drive Lucia gave me for work. I was genuinely worried I’d lost it two days ago, but thankfully, one of the cleaning ladies found it this morning and got it back to me.

I’m still unsure if I’m qualified for what Lucia wants me to do, but I promised her and myself I’d try. So that’s what I’m going to do.

Mikhail enters the bedroom an hour later. His gaze roams my face when he does and then he’s moving to sit beside me on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” he questions.

Dammit. Why do I have to be married to the most perceptive man in the world?

“Nothing’s wrong,” I reply, keeping my gaze fixed on the laptop.

“We agreed not to lie to each other anymore,solnyshko,” he reminds me.

I groan softly. “That wasn’t a lie,” I tell him. “I’m just trying to focus on work. Seriously.”

He makes a small noise I can’t discern, probably him trying not to call me out on my shit. I don’t look at his face as my attention returns to my laptop. Neither of us speaks for a long moment until I can’t take it any longer. I look at him, my brows raised.

“Is she the one that got you the SpongeBob apron?”

Mikhail chuckles. “Are you jealous, Anastasia?”

“Of course not,” I mutter. “It just seems weird that out of all your exes, she seems to have had the biggest impact on your life. Recent revelations aside, you’ve mentioned her twice before. Which means you probably liked her a lot.”

“I liked her as much as I liked all the women in my past,” he tells me. “My feelings for them are nowhere near what I feel for you, Anastasia.”

His words soothe something inside of me. When I look at him, sincerity shines in his blue eyes.

“I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

“A little bit,” he says. “But I can handle it.”

I smile, placing my laptop on the bedside table and moving into his lap.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked how you were. Today’s been a lot for you. How do you feel?’

He has to think about it for a moment.

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