Page 61 of The Russian's Kidnapped Bride
I want to reach for her, but I restrain myself.
“You didn’t sleep.”
“Neither did you,” she murmurs.
She isn’t wrong.
Silence lingers between us while I set my mug down, pausing while I think about how to ease into it. I just want to lift that heavy mood between us. I want to make her laugh, or atthe very least, smile. But I know everything is weighing on her too much. There’s no use pretending like the world isn’t coming down on her right now.
I pull myself together and look over at her. “We should talk about it.”
“You think?”
The nervous tension in her voice doesn’t escape me. Before I can answer, she places her mug down and faces me.
She forces out a heavy breath, looking more lost than ever. “I don’t even know where to start…it doesn’t feel real, but I know it is. I’m pregnant, and now I have to consider what that means for me…for my future—”
“Our future,” I correct her, gently but still firm.
Her brows furrow, eyes narrowing into mine. “You keep reminding me like that’s going to fix everything. Like I asked for any of this!”
The blow from her words hits hard and direct, but I don’t react. I can’t. I just watch while she unravels, aware that she likely needs to get it off her chest.
“I had plans, Mikhail. I had a life and a schedule, and everything was intentional. Med school, an apartment, the dreams of a career. A chance to do something that matters. Those were the decisions I made by myself,” she throws back at me, eyes slightly wider with the complicated emotions surrounding her. “Now I’m stuck in this place like it’s a prison, married to someone I hardly know, with a future ahead of me that looks nothing like the one I chose.”
Her voice cracks at the end, making my heart clench.
Despite how her claims hurt, I step forward slowly, but she takes another step back. She’s trembling, as if everything she’s been holding in is finally being let loose.
“You’re not stuck, Lily. You’re safe, and you’re not alone,” I offer, trying to empathize even if I’m the source of most of her grief.
“But I am alone. You have to see that by now,” Lily mumbles, voice smaller and more defeated. “Everywhere I look, I see men with guns. I see your brothers talking about hits and dirty business as if it’s normal. Elena and Victoria try to help, but they’re more like you than like me. You brought me with you to rescue a child from being trafficked, like it was just another weeknight…how am I supposed to bring a child into this?”
She presses a hand to her stomach and releases a shaky breath. “I don’t know how to be a mother here. I don’t even know how to survive this myself.”
I do my best to keep my head on straight and to keep it all in, but her words hit deep. They aren’t meant to wound me, but they still do, given how it’s true. Somehow, that makes it feel even worse.
But I understand. She’s terrified.
“We weren’t exactly avoiding it, but I didn’t plan for this either,” I say gently, taking that small step again. This time, she doesn’t move. “But I spent all night thinking, and I know what I want. I can only hope that you want it, too.”
Her wide, uncertain gaze lingers on me, but she doesn’t speak.
“I want this child, and I want you, Lily. Not just because you’re my wife, and not out of any business obligation. But because I care about you more than I ever expected to. Morethan I even want to admit some days,” I continue, noticing the subtle cracks in her expression. “I know what I do is dark and oppressive sometimes, but I don’t plan on letting anything happen to you—or this baby. I’m not a monster planning on taking everything away from you. I’ll burn everything down if it means keeping you safe, but that doesn’t mean I’ll get in the way of you following your dreams. You can be Lily, and you can also be my wife. This marriage doesn’t have to be erasure.”
While she stares at me, taking in every word, I reach forward and carefully take her hand in mine.
“I know this won’t fix everything, but I mean it. You have my word. You aren’t alone, and you never will be.”
That hesitance lingers in her body before she finally slumps as if exhaling after hours of holding her breath.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she admits, voice small.
“Then we’ll figure it out together,” I tell her, gently squeezing her hand.
Despite the strength she has worked hard to maintain, Lily’s eyes well up, gently shaking her head. As a tear slides down her cheek, I reach up and brush it away with my thumb.
Her voice leaves her in a quiet tremble. “I don’t want to give up who I am because of this.”
