Page 49 of Knocked Up by the Bratva

As the door clicks shut, I sit back down at my desk, staring at the closed file. Jennifer has every reason to hate me, but she’s still mine. I’ll make her see that, no matter what it takes.

***

I return home as the sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the garden. As I approach, I spot Jennifer strolling through the rows of flowers with Tyler in her arms. There’s a softness to the moment that catches me off guard—the way she looks down at him, her expression peaceful, content. She’s always been good with him. Better than I could ever be.

That’s about to change.

I step into the garden, my shoes crunching on the gravel path. Jennifer looks up, her eyes narrowing slightly, but Tyler’s reaction is immediate. His little arms stretch out toward me, babbling some nonsense that makes both me and Jennifer pause.

“He wants you to hold him,” she says, her voice soft but surprised.

For a second, I hesitate. I’m not exactly the nurturing type. Yet, something compels me to step forward, to reach out and take my son from her arms. He feels warm and small against my chest, his weight surprisingly comforting. I don’t realize I’m smiling until Jennifer raises an eyebrow.

“You’re smiling,” she remarks, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that.”

I blink, glancing down at Tyler, who stares back up at me with his wide, curious eyes. I hadn’t noticed. It feels… natural, holding him. He’s a part of me, after all.

We walk together for a while, and the silence is not as tense as it used to be. Tyler babbles contently in my arms, his small head resting against my shoulder. The garden is quiet, just the sounds of the evening settling in around us. I feel a strange sense of peace, something I haven’t felt in years.

As we round a corner, Jennifer slows her pace, and I do the same. Her eyes flicker to Tyler, who’s slowly falling asleep, and then back to me.

“Timur…,” she begins, her voice hesitant, like she’s searching for the right words. “I never expected this. You with him. It’s… different.”

I nod slightly, knowing exactly what she means. “I didn’t either.”

We stop near a bench, and I sit down, still holding Tyler against my chest. He’s asleep now, his small breaths rhythmic and steady. I glance at Jennifer, and the weight of everything that’s happened—the lies, the running, the betrayal—settles between us. Yet somehow, none of it seems to matter in this moment.

“I know about your mother,” I say quietly, watching her reaction carefully. Her body tenses, and she meets my gaze, her eyes wide and startled.

“My cousin, Anatoly,” I continue, my voice low. “He’s the one responsible for what happened. He was young, stupid, and reckless. The Bratva sent him away to avoid the consequences, but I know what that loss did to you, Jennifer.”

She stares at me, her expression a mix of shock and something else I can’t quite place. Pain, maybe. Or confusion. I can’t tell.

“I understand now why you ran,” I add, my tone firm. “Why you did what you did. Revenge is a core value in Bratva. An eye for an eye.”

I pause, glancing down at Tyler before looking back at her. “You’re a Sharov now. That means something. So… say it. What do you want me to do to him?”

Jennifer looks taken aback, her breath catching in her throat. She stares at me for a long moment, processing my words. I’m offering her revenge. The chance to take back what Anatoly stole from her.

Then, something changes in her expression. The sharpness fades, replaced by something softer.

“I don’t want that,” she whispers, shaking her head slowly. “I’m… I’m content without revenge. It won’t bring my mother back. Right now, I’m living my life with our beautiful baby boy. I’m happy… despite everything. Or at least, I can learn to be.”

Her words surprise me, but they’re genuine. There’s no hate left in her, no burning desire for vengeance. She’s moved on, somehow. As I look at her, holding our son, I start to realize that maybe… maybe she’s right.

“Just promise me one thing,” she adds softly, stepping closer. “Don’t turn him heartless, Timur. Don’t make him like… like you.”

Her plea catches me off guard, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. She’s asking for something I’m not sure I can promise. As I look down at Tyler, sleeping so peacefully, I feel a tug in my chest.

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I nod slowly, pulling her close, keeping my voice low. “I’ll try,” I say, unsure if I can even keep that promise. For now, it’s enough.

As the last of Jennifer’s words fade into the cool evening air, I find myself staring at her, unable to shake the quiet strength in her voice. She doesn’t want revenge. It’s a concept so foreign to me, one I’ve built my life around. Here she stands, offering me something else—something purer.

I move closer, my hand brushing against her arm. Her eyes meet mine, soft yet resolute, and something stirs in me. Without thinking, I lean down, pressing my lips to hers. The kiss starts slow, tentative, as if we’re both testing the waters. Then it deepens, heat spreading between us like wildfire. My hand slips around her waist, pulling her closer, and she melts against me, her body giving in just as easily as it always does.

Her lips part, and I take the invitation, exploring the warmth of her mouth. It’s not the first time we’ve kissed, but something about this moment feels different. There’s a rawness, an unspoken understanding between us that wasn’t there before. My hands slide up her back, fingers tangling in her hair, and she lets out a soft gasp against my mouth.

For a moment, everything else disappears. The past, the lies, even the pain. It’s just us. I kiss her harder, savoring the feel of her body against mine. She tastes like home, like something I never knew I needed until now.

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