Page 37 of Pregnant Bratva Virgin

“I can hold my own. I’m a trained detective. That part of me hasn’t left,” she reminds me with a swift smile.

“No. I guess it hasn’t.” A funny feeling comes over me when she makes the comment, giving me the thought of checking her phone. Maybe it’s not the only one… but like the jealousy, I let the thoughts die off as I search for one more person. I don’t have to look far as he approaches our table during the orchestra break.

Paul cuts through the crowd. “Ryurik! Good man. You’re here. Sorry I missed your wedding. I wanted to be there; I just couldn’t make the timing work out with such short notice.”

Emily’s body stiffens beside me as her arm links into mine. I rest a hand on hers to give her reassurance for whatever reason she might need it. She’s been fine meeting everybody else, and Paul’s a likeable guy. Glancing sideways, I give her a smile, hoping it’s enough.

“That’s okay. It was a long shot. But now you’re here, meet my wife.” I gesture to Emily proudly, Paul’s face shapeshifting to shock as if he’s just seen a mirage.

“Wow. You, ah—you ah, sorry for this. It’s going to sound strange,” he babbles, gesturing with his hand. “But you have a striking resemblance to a woman I used to know.”

Emily casts an artic glare in Paul’s direction as her hand flattens against my arm, her hidden rage palpable. “My full name is Emily Rae Wilson. Does that ring a bell?” Blank faced, Paul stands dumbfounded at the question, as I try to work out where Emily’s going with this. “Nice to meet you, Dad,” she launches venomously, her body trembling next to me.

Astonished by Emily’s revelation, I exchange glances between the two of him, Paul falling apart in front of me.

This man is Emily’s father? Who the hell did I marry?

Chapter Twenty-One - Emily

Seeing him again makes me sick. Sick right down to the marrow of my bones. Standing face-to-face with the man who abandoned me and left me cold on the streets of Chicago to be gobbled up in the foster care system. I don’t know how he can live with himself after all he’s done.

There’s not enough words in my vocabulary to demonstrate my disgust with him. Crossing my arms over my chest, I let my mind wander, the night lights of Chicago whizzing by.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.And there were so many sleepless, fitful nights when I did. Repeatedly. I waited for him to show up and claim me. I would have accepted him back as my father if he just came to rescue me.

I already lost my mother and had nothing. Stripped of an opportunity to get to know her, I started life without feeling whole. Without nurturing as a kid in the early years. He could have taken me wherever he was. He didn’t need to leave me behind, but I try to put everything in perspective, a watery smile coming to my face when I think about Laura.

Sweet, sweet Laura. She gave me so much. She was everything to me, and poured so much love, support and care into me, making up for the loss, the grief, and the rejection. She made it all worth it, and now Ryurik has saved her. I don’t know if I would have been able to do it, but he did.

Ryurik holds up my silence, but I can feel him looking at me wanting to say something as the drive continues. I feel a sense of obligation to give him a response. Sighing, I take the plunge and tell him what I’m thinking and feeling.

“He abandoned her,” I say quietly as the driver inches forward from the T-intersection.

“Paul?” Ryurik predicts as I nod my head.

“Yes.” With tears welling in my eyes, I turn to Ryurik, unable to hide, having to confront the nasty and very real reminder of the truth. He slides his pinky finger over to mine, latching on to it. “He abandoned my mother when she was pregnant. I don’t know if him not being there was the reason.” I drift off, closing my eyes, letting the lump pass down my throat. Despite all the therapy sessions I’ve attended to reconcile the past, Paul has managed to cut open the sealed wound and rub salt into it again.

A flashcard of an old memory spirals me back in time for a second as I recall being walked through the eerie halls of the orphanage by one of the nuns.

“I’m taking you to a separate room so you can heal. Your coughing is disturbing the rest of the girls. When you stop, you can go back.”I was so scared and anxious being away from the other girls in my dorm. I barely made it down the hall as I coughed and spluttered. This nun didn’t have soft hands either, they were callused, rough in texture, and I tried to slip my hand out of hers to run back, but all she did was hold on tighter, glaring down at me.

Frowning, I shake off the memory, Ryurik’s face replacing hers as I take a deep breath. I don’t know why or how that core memory returned, but that’s one of many.

“The reason for?” Ryurik draws me back to what I was saying.

“Umm, shit. I’ve lost my train of thought. I found out later who he was.”

“Okay. How old were you when you found out about him?”

Shrugging, I think back, remembering a social worker lady talking to me about him. “I think I was in the single digits. I must have been around eight or nine. It’s a miracle the nuns told me. I didn’t think they would.”

“Why wouldn’t they tell you? It’s your right to know who your father is.”

“Sure it is, but those nuns in there weren’t the nicest. I had a rough time there. But yeah, when I tried to contact him, he refused to see me.” I state the hard truth out loud, the rebound of rejection searing through my chest again.

Ryurik doesn’t say anything, just quietly keeps his finger linked to mine for a moment as I process seeing Paul’s smug face at the ball. What a way to meet with him. When I saw his pictures back then, they were from the paper. He was younger and cockier with a full head of chocolate brown hair like mine, and the same shaped eyes. And when I looked at him at the ball in full profile, the blip in time circled me back to the same man from the paper, only his hair had sprinkles of gray running through it.

“Your father’s name is Paul Butcher,”one of the nuns told me, shoving a newspaper in front of my face. I was happy that day to find out who he was. I just knew once he found out about me, he would want me. I was his after all.

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