Epilogue
Six months later…
Katarina lies on the beach, the umbrella shielding all but her feet. I’m fairly certain she’s asleep, so as gently as I can, I take a towel, covering her bare skin from the blazing Hawaiian sun.
“I wasn’t asleep and they’re not burning,” she slurs, clearly having been out cold in her chaise.
I only chuckle, my hand coming to her stomach.
We married four months ago, and Katarina is three months pregnant.
And to think, sperm count was considered an issue.
But during these first few months, Katarina, always prone to napping after sex, now naps constantly.
It’s my theory that her body was also always set to be hyper-aware due to her father’s cruelty. Now, she’s recovering. “Of course you weren’t, but the doctor did warn us, you might be extra sensitive to sun exposure with the fairness of your skin and pregnancy.”
“Liar,” she mutters. “You know I was asleep.”
“Who’s the liar?” I ask, leaning over to kiss her cheek.
I massage her belly. I don’t care if she wants to wear a bikini, but she still hides her scars.
She rubs her nose against mine, her eyes closing again. “I never claimed to be honest.”
She’s got me there.
Her hand comes over mine, the one resting on her stomach, her body slumping over so her face can nuzzle into the crook of my neck. “You should sleep as often as you like.”
I feel her stiffen slightly. “It’ll be different when the baby comes.”
We never discussed having children. We just also never used protection. But where I am thrilled, Katarina seems…worried.
She’s been speaking with a therapist, and I was recently invited into a session. Her history with abuse has made her frightened that she won’t be fit as a mother.
I hadn’t given it a thought before then, and upon thinking about it, I’m just not worried. “Yes, life will be a bit different when we’re parents. For example, that bedroom I just took out of the jet is going to have to be put back in for baby naps.”
Katarina gives a small laugh. “You know that’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Kitten,” I murmur against her cheek. “You’re seeking help, you’ll have all the staff you’ll need, and, unlike the man who raised you, you aren’t a clinical narcissist.”
“I know but—”
“Were you ever physical with Sasha?”
“No, of course not,” she starts and then stops. She pulls back, her eyes going wide. “Oh. I do see your point.”
I slide my hands around the back of her head, my thumbs brushing her cheeks. “My father was a piece of shit too, but my mother was amazing. Kind, consistent, strong. We’re going to follow her example.”
Katarina gives a small nod, her hand squeezing mine. “I just want to be my best self for the baby.”
“You will, sweetheart. You will.”
I kiss her lips. Katarina is able to be anything she wants to be. She is my other half, my perfect soulmate.
“Let’s go back to the room, eat, make love, and take another nap.”
She lets out a small giggle as she kicks the towel off her feet. “For a man who started by barely talking to me, you certainly have found the perfect words.”
I kiss her lips. “Only for you, my love. Only for you.”