36. Arsen
36
ARSEN
“These are airplanes.” Laila helpfully points out the jets in front of us in case there was a chance I might have missed them. “We usually take a car home from dinner.”
She’s right, but there’s a lot about tonight that isn’t usual.
Starting with Laila earning her yoga certification.
I could’ve thrown her a family-style dinner at home. We could’ve celebrated her accomplishment with our daughter and friends and sat around, eating food and chatting all night.
But, at my core, I’m a selfish bastard.
And from the moment she accepted her certification and sprinted off the stage directly into my arms, I knew I wanted her all to myself.
“We would—if we were going home.” I grab her hand and pull her towards the hangar designated for my private jet.
She shuffles along behind me, dragging her feet, still frowning in a way that most people about to board a private jet don’t do. “But what are we doing here?”
“Just think of it as a high-altitude joyride. You said during dinner that you didn’t want this night to end.”
“That’s just something people say,” she argues. “I was having fun. And eating cake. Of course I didn’t want it to end.”
“And now, it doesn’t have to. You’re welcome.”
“Arsen, this is crazy. We have to get home. We have to—” She comes to a grinding halt when she spots her Louis Vuitton luggage being rolled onto the tarmac. “Are those mine?”
“I certainly hope so. It would be unfortunate if I packed someone else’s luggage for our trip.”
“What trip? Why did you pack so much? Where are you taking me?” She tries to wriggle free, but I have a feeling if I let her go, it’ll be hard to catch her again.
“I’m starting to think you don’t trust me.”
“With my life? ‘Til the very end,” she concedes, still trying to squirm away. “With responsibly managing our time? Not one bit. How long are we leaving for?”
“Baseline: four nights. But we can extend if we want to.” I hold up a hand before her mouth can drop open. “I know what you’re thinking: Nina.”
“Exactly. Have you forgotten about our daughter?”
I’m the one who just brought her up, but I don’t bother pointing that out. “Polina is thrilled to be on babysitting duty the next four days. Over the fucking moon, really. I thought she was going to start dancing. But she’s also on standby, ready to hop on a plane and join us on this little honeymoon the second you start missing Nina.”
“‘Honeymoon’?”
I swing her around so she’s in front of me, her body soft and warm in my arms. “We never had a proper one. I figured now is the perfect time. Before you start your yoga empire and don’t have a spare moment in your day for me anymore.”
A little smile glows in the corners of her mouth, but she tamps it down. “I don’t know…”
“Nina is going to be fine. Polina and Evelyn have it covered. Even if they do need help—which they won’t—Kira is right next door. And it’s only four days.”
“Four days is a lot, considering I’ve never been away from her. Not even for a night.”
“I’ve tripled security on the house,” I assure her, even though there hasn’t been a peep out of Charles since we sent him packing. “And like I said, the second you miss her, they’ll get on a plane and bring her to us.”
She glances towards the plane, no small amount of longing in her eyes. “You’re making it very hard to say no.”
“I wouldn’t dare leave alone time with you up to chance.” I pull her against my chest. “But it’s your call in the end. If you can’t deal with leaving Nina behind, just say the word, and she’ll be here with her retinue in half an hour. We can chill out on the jet with a cocktail and wait for them to join us.”
She looks severely tempted. “I suppose… a few nights away won’t hurt.” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she drops her face in her hands.
I pry her wrists away. “You don’t have to feel guilty. You’re a brilliant mother. You deserve some time to yourself. We deserve some time together .”
“It would be nice to get away,” she admits. “Somewhere different, just you and me.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Her smile spreads. “Alright then. I’m ready. I think.”
I don’t stop holding my breath until the plane takes off and we’re airborne. Only then do I pop a bottle of champagne and pour us each a glass.
“To you, my wife.” I raise my glass.
Laila raises hers, too. “We already toasted to me at dinner. Repeatedly.”
“This is our honeymoon. I’ll toast you every hour if I want.” I lean down, hands on the armrests of her chair. “We can do whatever we want.”
I grab the glass from her hand and press it to her lips. Slowly, she parts them, letting me serve her.
Before I can get any other ideas, she spots the tray of chocolate-covered strawberries on the bar. “This is crazy. I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I’d be on a private jet to… Where are we going?”
“Let the pilot worry about the destination. All you and I have to worry about is the journey.” I pin her against the bar, unable to stop myself from following the low neckline of her dress across her chest. “After everything you’ve been through, you deserve a break.”
Her hand combs through my hair, and it takes me a second to realize she’s pulling me away. “Arsen?” I drag my mouth away from her skin by sheer force of will. Her brows are knitted together. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you.”
“Anything.”
Silently, though, I reserve the right to respond however I see fit. If she suggests we enjoy this honeymoon separately, I might just jump out of the emergency door.
She swallows nervously. “I never told you how much it meant to me that you were there for my mom in her final days.”
I blink at her, rendered mute. Of all the things I thought she might say, that didn’t even rank.
Her smile trembles. “I was so focused on resenting and blaming you that I didn’t stop to think about how I was actually grateful. Grateful that she didn’t have to be alone those last few months. That she had someone to have lunch with and talk to and connect with.” Her eyes fill with tears, but she blinks them away. “She was right about me. I wouldn’t have handled those last few months well. I would’ve fought to keep her alive. I would’ve been talking to doctors and researching new therapies and denying the fact that she was dying. It would have been a nightmare for everyone.”
“You loved her. Of course you’d do anything to keep her with you for a little longer.”
She swallows her tears. “She would have been so happy to see us together.”
I nod in agreement. “I think she knew we’d end up together eventually.”
“Yeah?”
I press a kiss to her neck. “Yeah.”
The night sky is just outside the window, but I’m mesmerized by my wife. By her strength, her forgiveness, her perseverance.
Her eyes float slowly to mine. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking about doing this. ” I slowly drop to my knees between her legs, the need to continue that sentence gone the second I begin to bunch her dress around her waist.
“Here?” she balks. “Now?”
I slide her panties down to her ankles, helping her step out of them. “I want to fuck you over the clouds, Mrs. Adamov. What do you say to that?”
Her eyes flutter as I slide my hand between her thighs. “God,” she breathes, “I love it when you touch me.”
“ Roza, that makes two of us.”