Chapter 19
ELLE
Natalia's been here two weeks, living in the guesthouse, and Nikolai still hates that she's here. But I've reminded him that I'm not dead yet and Pasha hasn't gone missing. So now he's evolved from asking when she plans to leave to just scowling at her from a distance.
That's progress, I suppose.
He still refuses to deal with her at all. Won't speak, won't look, won't acknowledge her existence. Which, for him, is basically a peace treaty.
But me? Against all logic, I actually like her. Which means the job of hostess-slash-referee between Nikolai and Natalia falls squarely to yours truly.
I know. Bad idea, Elle. But Natalia's nice. Calmer than I expected. She has this old-soul energy that makes you want to sit down and tell her your secrets. Not that I've done that yet.
It's just that I've never had a girlfriend before. The kind you can sit beside without pretending. And Natalia's easy to like. Soft voice, quiet sadness that clings to her like perfume, and glowing skin that makes me want to hug her and interrogate her about her skincare routine in equal measure.
Today we're in the pool. Me, Natalia, and Pasha. Splashing around like we're filming a family sitcom pilot. It's awkward as hell, swimming with my husband's kid and the woman who abandoned said kid, but it is what it is.
"Pasha, see how cool Natalia looks doing that backstroke?"
"Yeah. But mine's better," he insists, giving her stroke an unimpressed look before swimming off in the opposite direction. I feel my heart crack watching her face fall.
I try to get him to warm up, but Pasha tolerates her with a cautious acceptance, like he's still figuring the whole thing out. Which, to be fair, he is.
"Kids, huh?" I try to keep it light when he pretends to become a mermaid.
"Yeah," Natalia gives me a smile. The kind that screams I'm trying. I wish I could help more.
The water's warm, sunlight glinting off the surface. Pasha's laughter bounces around the courtyard, pure and bright. He's warming up to her, but he sticks close to me. Always within arm's reach.
If Natalia sits on one end of the pool, Pasha migrates to mine. If she tosses him a floaty, he smiles politely and hands it to me first. Guarded but kind. He has every right to be.
I float on my back, eyes squinted against the sun, watching him do underwater somersaults near the shallow end. He's showing off, but not for Natalia. For me.
"Did you see how many I did?" he calls, popping up with hair plastered to his forehead.
"Three in a row," I confirm, flipping upright. "Champion-level stuff."
Natalia smiles tentatively. "That was really good."
He glances at her. Nods once. Dives back under.
"He swims beautifully," Natalia says from her spot on the pool steps.
"He does." I adjust my sunglasses. "But he could learn a thing or two from you."
She laughs softly. "He listens to you. Children don't always listen to the adults in their lives."
"I bribe him with chocolate and promises of late-night movies. It's foolproof."
Pasha paddles by, hair slicked back, grinning. "She's lying. I just like her."
My heart does a full somersault.
Natalia smiles, something wistful in her eyes. Watching him the way you'd watch a skittish bird, hoping it'll come closer on its own.
We float like that for a while. Then Pasha declares he's hungry.
When we climb out, dripping and laughing, the housekeeper's already waiting on the patio with lunch. A pitcher of lemonade sweating in the sun and a platter of sandwiches.
Pasha spots them first. "Tuna! My favorite!"
I grin, grabbing a towel. "Of course it's tuna."
We reach the table and, oh sweet baby cheeses. The smell hits me like a slap, and something inside me curdles. I sink into my chair, trying to breathe through my mouth. It doesn't help. The tuna is everywhere, thick and pungent. My stomach rolls.
"You okay?" Natalia asks. "You went a little green."
"Fine," I manage. "Just hot."
Pasha's already seated, eating. I notice he's shifted his chair an inch or two closer to me than to Natalia.
When he lifts the sandwich for another bite, I feel like I might hurl.
"Be right back."
I'm up, chair skidding, legs carrying me across the patio, through the sliding doors, down the hall, and into the nearest bathroom.
I barely make it.
My hair clings to my neck as I heave, eyes watering, world spinning. When there's nothing left, I sit back on my heels, sweaty and shaking.
What the hell was that?
I pull myself together enough to return to the patio. Natalia and Pasha both look up when I appear.
Pale, sweaty, and definitely not in a sandwich mood. I drop into my chair, push the whole platter away, and reach for fruit instead. Grapes. Safe. Harmless. Odorless.
"You're not hungry?" Natalia asks lightly.
"Not for fish. That sandwich smells like it crawled out of hell itself."
She looks at me like she knows something I don't. Her lips twitch. "How far along are you?"
I nearly choke on a grape. "What?"
"The baby." Her eyes hold steady on mine. "I was the same way with anything fish when I was pregnant. Couldn't even walk past a seafood counter without making a run for it."
My mind goes completely blank. Like someone unplugged my brain and wheeled it away.
Pregnant?
No way.
Except...
When was my last period?
A mental calendar flips through my brain like a Rolodex on speed. We've been intimate, very intimate, since the wedding night. And I haven't exactly been tracking my cycle in the midst of Bratva drama.
"I'm not..." I start automatically, then pause. Am I? Could I be?
Something flutters in my chest. Not nausea this time. A spark of something bright and terrifying and wonderful.
A baby. With Nikolai. A sibling for Pasha.
"I don't know," I finally say. Softer than intended. "I hadn't thought about it."
Pasha looks between us, confused. "Thought about what?"
Natalia smiles at him gently. "Grown-up stuff, honey."
He makes a face, immediately disinterested, and returns to his sandwich.
"It could be nothing," I say, but my hand drifts to my stomach. "Just a weird reaction."
Natalia's smile widens. "Of course. But if it's not nothing, congratulations." She leans forward, lowering her voice. "I'll pick up a test when I go out tomorrow."
That stings more than it should. The casual when I go out.
Because she can, and I can't. Nikolai made it clear when I asked about joining her for a shopping trip. Natalia's free to come and go because, in his words, "If she gets snatched or killed while she's out, I don't care."
Which is his unique way of saying trust issues are thriving, thank you for asking.
Me? Still not allowed past the gates.
"Thanks," I tell Natalia. "Just to rule it out."
She nods, and I pop another grape, pretending to focus on Pasha who's telling us about a Lego castle he's planning. But my thoughts keep circling back, tripping over that one word.
Pregnant.
The idea flutters through me like a secret I'm too scared to touch. Excitement, fear, disbelief. All tangled up like Christmas lights.
There's no proof yet. No confirmation. No reason to panic.
Tomorrow, there will be a test.
And one way or another, I'll know if life just threw me the biggest plot twist of all.