“Dad, I love you. But please don’t make me choose.” Anastasia’s gaze was on her father, a sad resolution there and fear stung my heart. “I would never give you up but I can’t give him up either. I love him. Please don’t make me choose.”
A deep sigh left her father. “I know, baby girl.” There were seconds ticking in silence but Anastasia refused to back up; her gaze locked with her father’s. It was the first time in my life that someone was unwilling to give me up. The woman I loved was fighting for us, and if there was an ounce of myself I held back, it was gone now. If I had to, I would prove to her father for the rest of my life Anastasia’s choice was the right one. We would work together to convince her dad.
Her dad finally continued, “I meant are you going to live in Russia? Or in San Francisco? Where? I want to know because I’m going wherever my daughter is.”
“Me too,” her grandfather chimed in.
Anastasia’s eyes filled with tears. “Really?”
“Damn straight,” both answered in unison. Their acceptance of Anastasia’s choice, knowing she could do so much better, hit me right in the chest.
She met my eyes and blinked her tears away. “You tell me, milaya,” I told her softly, brushing her hair from her temples. “Wherever you go, I follow.”
“And then you wonder why I love you,” she whispered softly. Holding my gaze, she continued, “Grandpa, since Dimitry and Dad are in San Francisco. How do you feel about us moving there too?”
“I’m up for it,” he retorted cheerfully. “You think I could have a great-grandchild soon? You know, since you are married already.”
I burst into a laugh. I started to see where some of Anastasia’s personality came from.
“As soon as milaya is hundred percent healed, we’ll start on it,” I promised him. “I don’t want to risk her health and we were lucky the bullet missed major organs.”
There was nothing more I wanted than Anastasia as my wife and mother of my children. But more than that, I wanted her alive.
“Stop it you two,” she objected although with a wide smile. “I need a job first. Dad agrees with me.”
Her dad smiled, nodding. “I agree, although it would be nice to become a grandfather.” And Anastasia’s eyes just about popped out of her head.
Chapter Forty-Two
Anastasia
Ifelt weaker than ever but I’ve never been happier. I was alive, my family had accepted Dimitry, and they were plotting on how to expand our family. I loved them with all my heart. And we’d be together. For the first time in a very long time, I had no doubt that my family would finally be safe, happy, and together. And Mom would always be with us too.
A nurse entered the room, with a food tray and my stomach grumbled.
“Oops,” I muttered embarrassed.
“You had nothing to eat in days,” Dimitry justified me.
“Anja, how about Grandpa and I go so you can get some rest. I don’t want to leave you, but I think Dimitry won’t let anyone else take care of you either.”
I had to agree with him. Dimitry was all over me, and I absolutely loved it. It was as if he had to ensure I was okay and wouldn’t perish under his nose.
“Where are you staying?” I asked them as the nurse gave instructions to Dimitry on the medicine I had to take with food.
“At Dimitry’s place,” Grandpa answered and each one of them gave me kiss one at the time before leaving behind the nurse.
Finally alone!
He put a finger under my chin and lifted my lips to his. “You took a bullet for me.” I watched him in silence. I would have done it again. He couldn’t expect it was okay for him to risk his life for me, and I couldn’t do the same for him. “You could have died!” he added, desperation lacing his voice.
I twined my fingers with his while my other hand threaded through his hair in slow caress. “But I didn’t die.”
My hand moved to his chest, where his heart beat and the sacred heart was tattooed into his skin. “I love you, Dimitry. In the matter of a week, you had become my everything. You couldn’t expect me to let someone hurt you; just like you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me.”
“I don’t deserve you but I don’t fucking care, milaya,” he murmured. “I’m never letting you go.”
“You deserve it all, Dimitry. And please don’t ever let me go,” I told him, raising my hand to his face. “I want to explain why I left the party.”