17. Carmie
Chapter 17
Carmie
“ T his just doesn’t make any sense.” I sit at the table, staring at Lev as he moves around the kitchen. “You’re cooking .”
“I hate that fucking stereotype,” he says, glaring at me as I grin right back. I’m having a lot of fun at his expense right now. “I can make a few things. It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s a huge deal. You’re wearing an apron!”
“I am not wearing an apron.” He holds the knife up and waves it in the air. “I’m armed and unstable. You should be careful.”
“Bring it on.” I pick up a discarded pen and jab it at him. “I could outstab you in my sleep.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he mumbles and goes back to work.
I watch my husband cook for a little while. It’s weird, thinking of him as my husband, and even weirder watching him deglaze and sauté.
Apparently, of his three siblings, he’s the only one that ever bothered to learn, mostly because his dad forced him to.
The place smells amazing. He says it’s his take on the classic stroganoff, with lamb instead of beef, and I just accept that as gospel. Lev’s deep in concentration mode while he puts the meal together, and he doesn’t even notice when the doorbell rings.
Alex is standing on the stoop. He’s a big guy with a cocky smile and a dark, brooding stare. I get the sense that this is the sort of man that doesn’t laugh often, but when he does, it means you’re friends with him for life. Slightly in front of him is Natalya, Lev’s younger sister, blonde and gorgeous in a cute little dress.
“Come on in,” I say, stepping aside. “Although it feels weird answering the door like I live here.”
Alex and Natalya exchange a look before she beams at me. “It’s your house too now, right? What’s yours is his?”
“You’d get half in the divorce,” Alex says.
“Pretty sure we don’t do traditional divorces,” I say, trying to make it clear that I’m joking around. “Our style is more the ‘ til death type.”
There’s an awkward beat before Natalya cackles and takes my arm as she leads me deeper into the house. Alex heads into the kitchen and starts talking with Lev, the two of them drinking vodka with ice, while I’m plopped back down on the couch.
“You know what I miss?” Natalya sighs as she leans back into the cushions, one hand over her belly. “I miss wine . I didn’t even think I would, but now I’m four months into this pregnancy and it’s like all I think about. Can pregnant women have wine cravings?”
“Uh, yeah, I think so, but that’s pretty evil.”
“Right?” She groans and stretches, and now I can see it. Her belly isn’t very swollen yet and the first time I met her she was wearing a loose dress, but now that she’s sort of framing the bump, it’s pretty obvious that she’s pregnant.
A strange feeling rushes through me. I’m only a few months behind her. Soon I’ll look like that , with a baby growing in me just like her, except I don’t even like my husband very much, while she keeps tossing little glances toward the kitchen, and there’s this dreamy look in her eye every time Alex looks back.
They’re so into each other it’s horrible.
“How’s it going?” I manage to ask, forcing the emotion out of my voice even though I’m practically vibrating with it. I want to ask a million questions. Like when will this freaking morning sickness stop? And why do they call it morning sickness when it happens all the time? And a dozen other little trivial things that I’ve been Googling like an insane person.
“About as good as it can, I guess. I’m tired all the time and I have a dozen aches and pains and I’m getting huge, but it’s great.”
“You look fantastic. Seriously, you really do.”
“Yep, I’m glowing.” She rolls her eyes. “Honestly, if you asked Alex, he’d tell you I’ve never looked hotter, which I believe. That man can’t keep his hands to himself.”
“I guess, uh, he can’t get you double pregnant.”
She laughs at that. “If anyone can, it’s him.”
“How did you two meet?”
“Now that’s a complicated story. Alex used to be best friends with our older brother Step back in the day, but then Step died, and he and Lev got close after that. But basically, I grew up with Alex. Hated his stinking guts.”
“Really? You two didn’t get along?”
“Oh my god, despised each other. But I also had one of those stupid little crushes on him too. So you can imagine all the tension.”
“I definitely can.” I chew my lip and hold back from peppering her with a dozen more questions. Like why did they end up together? What’s their relationship like now? I want to know everything because maybe that can shed some light on my situation with Lev.
But I’m not Natalya and I don’t have a crush on my husband.
There’s no history with me and Lev. We had one filthy night of stupid sex and that’s it. Sure, he took my virginity, but it wasn’t like he knew it was happening at the time. Now we’re trapped in this relationship, and there’s no way it’s going to turn into whatever Natalya has with Alex.
I get her talking more about the baby and everything they’re doing to prepare for it—mostly so I can mentally take notes—while a deep sadness fills me. My life is never going to be like theirs. I’m not going to have some amazing revelation where I suddenly understand that actually Lev is amazing and I’m so into him. At best, one day we’ll tolerate each other, and maybe we’ll even be decent co-parents.
But there won’t be love. Not for me, not in my future. No comfort, no joy, no smiles, no adoring looks across a room.
If I had been born in another world. If I had a different set of parents. Maybe if the dice had fallen a different way. Maybe then I could have the life I’ve always wanted.
Freedom to make friends. Freedom to go to school, to join a fencing club, to do normal things basically everyone else gets to do.
Instead of the sheltered existence I’ve been forced into up until this point.
At least dinner is good. Lev’s stroganoff is incredible. I don’t have to fake it when I tell him it’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted in my entire life, which Alex finds extremely amusing.
“She’s the best thing that ever happened to you,” he says, making a sharp joke at Lev. “Finally, someone likes your cooking.”
“Oh, stop it,” Natalya says, smacking her husband’s leg under the table. “Everyone knows Lev can cook the crap out of this stuff.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he says, giving me a strange, unreadable look, half caught between a cocky smirk and a sultry glare.
Natalya asks me about my life. I’m a little reluctant but slowly start to open up. I talk about growing up in my father’s house, about my brothers, Luca and Daniel, and Lev even makes me tell them about fencing.
“I always thought that was for rich assholes,” Alex says, frowning.
“What is wrong with you?” Nat hisses at him.
“That’s okay, I hear that a lot, but it’s really not. I mean, anyone can take it up. There are gyms all over the place that rent out gear or let you borrow stuff, and really you just need the clothes.”
“That’s honestly pretty cool,” Alex admits.
“You should see her in the outfit.” Lev’s smirking now. “She looks like a killer. I keep telling her I’ll set up a training room in the basement.”
“I’m probably not fencing again anytime soon,” I say, turning pink from all the attention.
“But if you were good, you really should.” Natalya studies me for a second and looks like she wants to say more, but the conversation moves on.
By the time they’re getting ready to leave, I realize that this is the most fun I’ve had since coming to live with Lev. Natalya seems like a genuinely nice person, even though she looks like she’s going to be cold and unforgiving like some kind of Russian ice princess, but that’s totally far from the truth. I find myself wanting to spill my guts to her a dozen times before the end of the meal, and when she pulls me in for a hug, I’m tempted to ask her not to leave.
“It’ll get better,” she whispers as the men talk out on the stoop. “I know it’s hard right now, but it’ll get better.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Lev’s adjusting too. He’ll come around. You two just have to—” She hesitates and shakes her head. “You just have to find a way. I’ll talk to him.”
“No, it’s okay, you don’t have to do that.”
She gives me a tight hug, and it takes all my self-control not to start crying when she takes her husband’s arm and they leave together.
Lev watches me from the doorway. “What did you and Nat talk about?”
“Nothing.” I turn and head to the stairs. “I’m tired. I’m heading to bed.”
“Wait.” He follows after when I don’t stop. “Carmie. Wait.”
“I’m just tired, okay?”
“You’re obviously upset.”
I turn on him when he reaches the landing. “Of course I’m upset. How am I supposed to not be upset? I’m basically your sister, except I’m not madly in love with my husband. You realize our kids are going to be a few months apart?”
He flinches slightly at that and looks away. “I know.”
“It’s fine, okay? I like them. I’m just having a hard time.” I storm away to my bedroom, but he calls my name one more time.
“Thank you,” he says. “For not saying anything.”
“About the baby? I wanted to.”
“I know you did, but I need to tell them first. There are going to be… questions. You might want me to take the initial wave of them first.”
I close my eyes and nod, feeling beyond exhausted. Not because tonight was a strain—it was surprisingly easy chatting with Natalya—but more because of the secret I can practically feel growing inside of me and the ramifications of what’s going to come.
A baby. A new life.
I’m going to be a mother, and Lev’s going to be a father.
“We don’t even like each other.” I don’t know why I say it. I can’t look at him as the words come out, but it feels like bile in the back of my throat.
“Who says I don’t like you?” His voice is thick, and I don’t bother turning around.
“You tolerate me. That’s not the same.”
“Carmie—”
“I don’t need you to love me, Lev. It’s probably better if you don’t, right? No strings, no complications. We can learn to do this together. But right now, I just feel like shit and wish my life weren’t such a disaster, that’s all. Can I go now?”
I look back over my shoulder and immediately regret it. His eyes are stormy and emotional, his mask slipped again, that darkness staring out. Again, I’m not sure if he wants to kill me or fuck me, and to him that might be the same thing. It should terrify me, except it doesn’t. I can’t even muster the energy for that right now.
“I’ll stay out of your way then,” he says and disappears to his room.
Guilt hits me when I’m alone. Maybe I was a little hard on him out in the hall. It’s just that seeing Natalya and Alex made me realize how far away I am from having a normal relationship with my husband. He made it so clear early on that I’m nothing to him, that he doesn’t want anything to do with me, and it’s only after he learned about the baby that he seems to care even a little bit.
I’m just done. That’s all, just done. I’ll feel better in the morning, or maybe I won’t.
I’m staring at a future of indifference, and it makes me want to curl up and sleep forever.