Page 150 of Crimson Tears

“Alexi has always called me Father. This time, I think I would like to be called ‘dad’.”

It is a vulnerable thing for me to say out loud. One thing I regret was how formal I always was with Alexi. This time, I want things to be different. I want to be there for my kid with no sense of business in the way.

“Alright, then I want to be Da, just like my father was to me.” His face grows sad. I know his parents are a difficult thing for him to think about.

“You only chose that because it is easy for a baby to say, and you know it will probably be their first word now.”

Cillian responds best to teasing when he is sad, which is proven when one side of his lips lifts.

“I can’t help it if I’m everyone’s favorite, Old Man.”

We talk for a while about all of the things we can help with and how to prove to Nessa that we will be good parents. We discuss discipline and how we would like to go about being there emotionally for our child.

It surprises me how much we agree on things, making this feel all the more real.

“I don’t really care if it’s yours or mine. I don’t want to know,” Cillian says.

“I agree. I will love them the same regardless.”

Cillian chuckles. “We’ll know pretty quickly if it comes out with white hair though.”

I laugh. “Or covered in tattoos.”

As the pieces begin to fall together, I cannot help but feel hopeful, even in this odd situation. This child will be loved by so many and protected by some of the most fearsome people on the planet.

Chapter 45

I might have given Boris shit for his idea of a date night, but I actually think this might work. Boris called a designer, who helped us create 3-D designs of the nurseries, and even crafted a cute list of baby names with pictures.

I think the name Aiden for a boy or a girl is cute, plus it means fire just like Enya. I know Nessa will love that. Oddly enough, it was the first name Boris and I agreed on.

I was put on flower duty while Boris had a special dress made for her as a gift. If it’s anything like the one at the ballet, I know it will be perfect.

We wait at the landing for her, both holding our breath. The moment she drifts down the stairs in a gown that perfectly matches her hair that is tied up in a high bun, I know I’m the luckiest man on the planet. Her belly doesn’t look swollen yet, but I can’t help but picture it. Our sweet little one, kicking around in there.

The mental image brings a smile to my face that feels foreign. One of real happiness.

“Hello, Love.” I kiss her cheek and hand her the fuschsias I special ordered. “You look stunning.”

Boris steps up behind me and kisses her other cheek, then leans back to admire her. “The very definition of beauty.”

She grins, her cheeks turning pink.

“The two of you look quite good yourselves.”

The past two days have felt strange around the house, as if we were tiptoeing around this giant elephant in the room. But right now, everything feels right.

We stand next to her in our perfectly tailored suits.

Yes, the old man actually made me wear a feckin’ penguin suit. I rioted at first until he took me to his tailor, who apparently makes special suits for Alexi with a fabric that stretches and has minimal seams. As much as I don’t want to admit it, it’s actually really comfortable. But that stays between us, okay?

“Let’s get you something to eat, shall we?” I bend my arm in offer to her, and she takes it as Boris does the same on the other side. He rounds the car, and I help her into the front seat. Boris drives while I sit in the back, watching them. He takes her hand in his and kisses it a few times, almost absent mindedly.

When I first arrived here, seeing their love and affection for one another made me feel like an outsider. But now, all I feel is joy when Nessa blushes under his attention, a smile never leaving her face.

We arrive at the restaurant, and I rush out to get her door for her. When I reach my hand out, she hesitates with her fingers only an inch from mine. My heart stutters in my chest with confusion.

“This is the first time we’re all going out,” she whispers like it’s a secret. “As in, thethreeof us.”

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