Page 57 of Triplet Babies
“We’ll go with Plan B then,” she says firmly. “If he’s here, we’ll handle it.”
Plan B was our mostly joking fallback plan to poison his wine and dump his body in the lake. Mostly joking. Now, it feels a little more tangible and like a real option with a baby on the way and not wanting to have to run again. I quickly dismiss the idea. “I’m not a killer. I’ll have to run again, start over, and with a baby?—”
“Stop.” Nina grabs my hands, forcing me to look at her. “You’re spiraling. Take a breath.”
I do as she says, inhaling deeply and trying to center myself, but the fears keep multiplying in my mind like a virus. “I have an ultrasound tomorrow,” I say suddenly.
Nina’s eyes widen. “You’re still... I mean, you haven’t told him yet?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know how. I told you he asked for months to sort things out with his fiancée, but you know I don’t have months. This pregnancy will be visible in a matter of weeks.”
She nods. “Maybe you should tell him now and give him the choice.”
“What if he only chooses me because of the baby? What if he feels trapped into ending his engagement?”
She huffs out a sigh. “What if he chooses you because he loves you and wants to be a father?”
I consider this, but doubt creeps in. “He’s never mentioned wanting children. His world is dangerous. He’ll probably think bringing babies into it is irresponsible.” I recall his words about family being protected, but I’m too conflicted and torn with fear and panic to really focus on what he might want. I can barely think straight.
“It’s possible he’ll think you and a baby are worth changing his world for.”
I want to believe her. I want to believe Yarik would choose me and our baby over duty and obligation, but I’ve learned not totrust in other people’s choices when it comes to my happiness. “There’s something else,” I say quietly.
Nina waits.
“If I tell him about the baby, he’ll never let me leave. Even if things don’t work out between us, even if he chooses his fiancée, he’ll never let me go if he knows I’m carrying his children.”
She frowns. “You just said he might not want them or find having babies irresponsible, so which is it, hon?”
I toss my hands in the air. “I don’t know. I’m so confused and frightened. I just don’t want him to make me stay.”
Nina shakes her head in confusion. “Why would that be so bad?”
I take a few breaths and manage to restore some semblance of calm and order to my jumbled thoughts. “I won’t be trapped again, Nina. Not even by someone who claims to love me but won’t choose me over a merger posing as a marriage. I’ve learned that good intentions can become prison bars just as easily as bad ones.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. “So what are you going to do?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I have a few weeks to decide. Either I tell him and trust he’ll choose us, or I leave before he figures it out.”
She nods slowly. “And if Alex really is here?”
The question makes me flinch. If Alex is here, running might not be an option. I might need Yarik’s protection more than I need my independence. “I guess I’ll have to trust that Yarik meant it when he said he’d keep me safe.”
She squeezes my hand. “He must mean it. He obviously cares about you.”
I want to believe her. I want to believe love, even though he’s never said the words, is enough to overcome the obstacles we’re facing, but as I sit in our little apartment, with the scent of Alex’s cologne still haunting my memory, and the secret of my pregnancy weighing on my chest, I can’t ignore the feeling that everything is about to fall apart.
18
Yarik
I’m reviewing shipping manifests when Valentin enters my office carrying a manila folder and looking like he has something unpleasant to discuss. I glance at the clock on my desk and note it’s barely nine in the morning, though I’ve been awake since Sarah left almost four hours ago.
My bedroom felt empty after she left and too quiet without her soft breathing beside me or the sound of her moving around. I’d wanted to ask her to stay, to call in sick and spend the day talking about everything except the engagement that hangs over us like a sword. Instead, I watched her dress hurriedly in last night’s silk and slip away before the staff arrived for their morning shifts.
He drops down into the chair across from my desk and opens the folder. “We need to talk.”
I set down the manifest I’ve been studying for the past twenty minutes. The numbers blur together anyway. My mind keepsdrifting to the way Sarah looked this morning, vulnerable and uncertain as she gathered her clothes in the predawn darkness.
