Page 46 of Knocked Up By the Russian

Her eyes grew watery, and his heart ached.

"You can't keep controlling everything, Ivan," she whispered finally, her fingers wiping away the tear that had just fallen. His hands clenched on the bathroom counter to stop himself from overcrowding her. From taking control. Everythingin him ached to make it better, but he knew that would only make it worse.

"I'll do better," he promised, and she let out a trilling laugh, palms pressing to her eyelids.

"No. I'm just ex—" She blew out a breath, then seemed to change her mind. "Never mind, I'm going to bed," she sighed finally, stepping out of the bathroom, away from him.

"Amy," he called, trailing behind her. She looked back at him, one hand on the doorknob and a frown on her face. "What were you going to say?"

She blinked. "When?"

"Right now. What were you going to say?" he asked, hands aching to hold her again.

Looking at the floor, she muttered, "I'm expecting too much. This thing between us, it's only for the next few months. Until everything's sorted out. I'm sorry. I don't know why I got frustrated."

His face dropped, heart clenched tight in his chest.Fucking idiot.He was a fucking idiot.

Chapter 21 - Amy

She pretended to be asleep when Ivan finally finished in the bathroom, but her heart ached at the reminder she'd thrown in both their faces.Only five months left... Tears dripped from her eyes, just like they had before she'd fallen asleep. But this time the agony inside her didn't quiet when she felt him return to their bedroom. Felt him climb onto the bed and shift his pillow around the way he always did.

Amy knew what it felt like to live in uncertainty, but the next three weeks that followed tested her in ways she hadn't been tested before. Her heart ached, and feelings she just didn't want left her miserable. To make matters worse—or was it better? She couldn't quite decide—Ivan was hardly there. He came home while she slept, waking her with his clumsy fumbling in the bathroom and then leaving before she woke in the morning. Time passed, and they barely spoke.

Things were happening too fast; the stress of everything left her aching for Ivan's arms at night. But he'd taken to falling asleep on top of the covers, barely touching her. Maybe it was her words in the bathroom or the argument they'd had earlier that day. She didn't know, but the gap between them felt wider than ever before, and her mind and heart couldn't agree on whether this relationship was a risk she should take. Wouldn't it be easier to break things off sooner rather than later? This was a question that played in her mind every day... until the Thursday morning of the third week.

She woke with her stomach clenching and acid filling her mouth. Urgency drove her to the bathroom just seconds before she vomited, the act stealing her breath and leaving her dizzy and out of it. It felt like she'd lost a fight with one of the Bratva soldiers walking around outside.

"What's up with you?" Zia mentioned the minute she managed to get back downstairs. Amy stopped searching for ginger ale and shrugged. Uncertain. Always so freaking uncertain; it was driving her mad.

"I think the stress is getting to me," she mumbled, pressing her forehead against the cool fridge door. It didn't help; just her luck.

"The stress," Zia echoed, a funny tone in her voice that had Amy glaring at her in suspicion.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, but Ava entered the kitchen with Mira and the babies, stealing Zia's attention.

Zia had a strange look on her face as they watched them. The moment someone mentioned breakfast, Amy shuddered, her stomach threatening a painful repeat of that morning.

"Mira?" her best friend sang, snagging the older woman's wrist as she walked by. The rest of the family entered, giving them strange glances that they ignored as Zia asked Paisley if she'd mind looking after the babies. Her mother agreed, a soft smile on her lips, and Zia let out a strange giggle as she tugged them away.

"Zia," Amy griped, her head swimming as she followed her up the stairs.

"What's going on?" Mira asked, confusion evident as she followed the petite, curly-haired woman.

"Remember that thing we were talking about?" Zia hissed, and Amy's eyebrows rose as she looked at them both. Guilty expressions were shared when she questioned them.

"What thing were you talking about?" she muttered, pulling her arm out of Zia's grip.

"Uh," Zia blustered, her face heating. "Well, you know I love you, hon. It's just that you've been acting pretty weird lately. Like really, really weird. And Mira and I were talking... comparing? I guess? Well, yeah, comparing because I might've mentioned that you might be..." Her voice trailed off, and Amy squinted as she tried to hear the word Zia had just said.

"Might be what?" she asked quizzically, leaning closer. "What were you comparing? Is the stress bothering you too?"

"Whoa, back it up there," Zia leaned away, nose wrinkling, and Amy pulled back, worried she'd forgotten to brush her teeth.

Mira caught her checking and rolled her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with your breath. Zia's just too scared to admit she thinks you're pregnant."

"What?" Amy shouted, her voice unnaturally high. "Zia!"

"See! That," her best friend hissed, snapping her fingers. "You're as ornery as a pit viper."

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