Chapter Twenty-Five - Erik
The sprawling backyard of our New York estate is alive with laughter and chatter, the golden light of late afternoon casting a warm glow over the scene.
A mix of balloons and streamers—Chloe’s touch, no doubt—decorates the space, and tables are laden with food, drinks, and an elaborate cake. It’s a simple gathering, small by most standards, but perfect for Alexei’s second birthday.
For Chloe, I’d move mountains to make sure today is perfect.
I adjust Alexei in my arms, his chubby hands clutching at my shirt as he lets out a delighted squeal. His bright, inquisitive eyes—so much like Chloe’s—scan the party, occasionally locking on to something new and exciting. Right now, it’s the balloons swaying in the breeze.
“You’re obsessed with those things,” I murmur, smirking as he points at a cluster of blue balloons, his tiny hand reaching toward them. “Maybe we’ll get you one later.”
He babbles in response, a stream of nonsense that only he understands, and I can’t help but smile.
Across the yard, Chloe stands with her family, her face animated as she chats with her mother and sister. It’s a sight I’m still getting used to—seeing her genuinely at ease with them. Forgiveness isn’t something that comes naturally to her, not after what they put her through, but she’s trying.
It’s for Alexei, I know that much. She wants him to grow up surrounded by love, not resentment, and even though I’d have gladly kept her family at arm’s length, I respect her decision.
Alexei squirms, and I shift him in my arms, giving him a better view of the yard. His little laugh is contagious, and I feel a strange sense of pride every time he looks at me like I’m the center of his world.
“Still getting used to fatherhood?”
The voice behind me draws my attention, and I turn to see Kolya—or Kol, as everyone calls him—approaching. His sharp features and close-cropped hair make him look every bit the hardened man he is, but there’s a spark of humor in his dark eyes that softens the effect.
“Kolya,” I greet, my tone neutral but not unfriendly.
“You’ve gone soft, cousin,” he says with a grin, nodding at Alexei, who’s now tugging at the collar of my shirt.
“Say that again,” I reply dryly, “and I’ll show you how soft I’ve gotten.”
Kol chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Erik. I’m just here to celebrate the little one.”
He steps closer, leaning in slightly to get a better look at Alexei. “He looks like you,” Kol says after a moment.
“Poor kid,” I reply, smirking.
Kol laughs again, shaking his head. “I’ll give you this much—you wear fatherhood well. Not something I ever thought I’d see, but… here you are.”
I glance down at Alexei, who’s now playing with the edge of his shirt. “It’s not something I ever thought I’d have,” I admit, my voice quieter.
Kol studies me for a moment, his expression turning more serious. “You’re happy,” he says, more a statement than a question.
“I am,” I reply simply, meeting his gaze.
“Good,” he says, nodding. “You deserve it.”
The sincerity in his tone catches me off guard, but before I can respond, Alexei lets out a squeal, his attention drawn to something behind Kol.
I follow his gaze and spot one of Chloe’s cousins holding a brightly colored toy. Alexei squirms in my arms, his little hands reaching toward it.
“Alright, alright,” I mutter, shifting him again. “We’ll check it out.”
Kol steps aside, watching as I carry Alexei over to the toy. I crouch down, letting him grab at it while the other children nearby laugh and play.
“You’re good with him,” Kol remarks, leaning against a nearby table.
“Better than I expected,” I admit, glancing at him. “What about you, any plans for a family of your own?”
Kol snorts, shaking his head. “Me, settle down? Not likely. I’ve got enough to deal with without adding a wife and kids into the mix.”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the edge in his voice. “Something going on?”
“Always,” he says vaguely, his smirk returning. “That’s a story for another time. Today’s about your boy, isn’t it?”
Alexei lets out another squeal, successfully grabbing the toy and holding it up like a prize. I laugh, ruffling his hair as he waves it around.
“Yeah,” I say, glancing back at Kol. “It is.”
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of laughter and celebration. Chloe eventually joins me, her smile radiant as she takes Alexei from my arms and plants a kiss on his cheek.
“Did you have fun?” she asks him, her voice soft and full of affection.
“Uh huh!” he exclaims, his little hands reaching up to touch her face.
“I think that’s a yes,” I say, wrapping an arm around Chloe’s waist.
She leans into me, her eyes shining with happiness. “Thank you for this, Erik,” she murmurs, her voice meant only for me.
“For what?” I ask, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“For giving me this life,” she says, her gaze flicking between me and Alexei. “For giving me him. ”
The weight of her words settles over me, and I pull her closer, my grip firm but gentle. “You gave me something too,” I reply, my voice low.
“What’s that?” she asks, tilting her head up to look at me.
“A reason to be better,” I say simply.
Her smile widens, and she rests her head against my shoulder as we watch Alexei play, the sounds of the party fading into the background.
This is what matters.
***
The house is quiet now, the kind of silence that settles after a long day of celebration. I stand in the doorway of Alexei’s nursery, leaning against the frame as I watch Chloe gently tuck him into his crib. She’s humming softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of Alexei’s slow, even breaths.
Her movements are precise and practiced, every touch radiating tenderness. She smooths the blanket over him, brushing her fingers across his cheek before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, his little hands curling into fists against the soft fabric of his blanket.
Chloe turns to glance at me over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine. There’s a soft smile on her face, tired but content, and I can’t help but feel something shift in my chest at the sight.
“Out like a light,” she whispers, her voice warm and affectionate.
“He gets that from you,” I say, smirking as I straighten.
She raises an eyebrow, amused. “Hardly. You’re the one who sleeps through anything. I swear a bomb could go off, and you wouldn’t even flinch.”
I chuckle under my breath. “You’re not wrong.”
Her laughter is quiet, barely a sound, but it fills the room in a way that feels like home.
As she steps away from the crib, I place a hand gently on her back, guiding her out of the nursery. She doesn’t question it, though I can feel her curiosity simmering just beneath the surface.
When we reach the hallway, she glances up at me, her brow furrowing slightly. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” I murmur, my tone soft but firm.
I lead her down the hallway, past the remnants of the day’s celebration—the faint smell of cake lingering in the air, a stray balloon bobbing near the ceiling. The house feels larger in the quiet, each step echoing faintly against the hardwood floors.
I stop at a door at the far end of the hall and push it open, revealing the bedroom bathed in the warm glow of a single lamp. It’s simple and uncluttered, the soft drapes and dark wood furniture creating an intimate atmosphere.
Chloe steps inside, her eyes scanning the space before landing on me again. “Erik, what is this?”
I don’t answer immediately. Instead, I close the door behind us and take a step closer, my gaze locked on hers. She looks tired but beautiful, the soft light catching the curves of her face and the slight curl of her hair as it falls over her shoulders.
“You looked beautiful tonight,” I say, my voice low and steady.
She blinks, her cheeks flushing faintly. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” I take another step closer, my hand finding the small of her back.
“Yes,” she says, but her voice wavers slightly, betraying the impact of my words.
I lean in, brushing a strand of hair away from her face before my lips find hers in a kiss that starts slow, deliberate. It’s a moment suspended in time, every detail heightened—the warmth of her skin, the faint scent of her perfume, the softness of her lips.
Her hands move to my shoulders, sliding up into my hair as she presses closer, her body molding to mine. The kiss deepens, and any restraint I’ve been holding on to slips away.
“Chloe,” I murmur against her lips, the sound barely more than a breath.
She pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes wide and bright. “What?”
“I love you,” I say, the words spilling out without hesitation.
Her breath catches, her lips parting slightly as she searches my face. “I… I love you too,” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion.
The weight of her confession hits me like a punch to the chest, leaving me momentarily stunned. I’ve always known I loved her—felt it in every glance, every touch—but hearing her say it feels like a victory I didn’t know I needed.
I kiss her again, my hands tightening on her waist as I pull her closer. Her fingers tangle in my hair, her movements matching mine in perfect harmony. The air between us grows heavier, charged with the kind of passion that leaves no room for anything else.
I guide her toward the small sitting area in the corner of the room, sitting down and pulling her onto my lap. Her laughter is soft, breathless, as I press kisses to her neck, her collarbone, the hollow of her throat.
Her laughter turns into a quiet moan as I capture her lips again, and for a while, the rest of the world fades away.
Eventually, we find ourselves lying side by side on the couch, the soft light of the lamp casting long shadows across the room. Chloe’s head rests on my chest, her fingers idly tracing patterns against my shirt.
The silence between us is comfortable, the kind that doesn’t need to be filled.
“Thank you,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“For what?” I ask, my fingers brushing against her hair.
“For everything,” she replies, her hand moving to rest over my heart.
I don’t respond right away, letting her words settle over me. Instead, I press a kiss to the top of her head, my arms tightening around her as I silently vow to never let her go.
This is where I belong—right here, with her.
*****
THE END