27. Rose
Rose
I snap another picture on my phone and step back to take a better look at the room before me.
Of course, it’s going to be a while before it really starts looking like the nursery I want it to be, but in the last few hours, I have started putting together some real plans.
At least it’s a good distraction to pass the time until Ilya gets back home.
I have been doing my level best to keep myself busy since he left, since I’ve been ruminating on the possibility of more danger lying in wait for him, more threats that I can’t protect him from.
As foolish as I know that notion is, because he has shown himself to be more than capable of doing what needs to be done in his world.
I’ve been filling my time as best I can. I had something to eat, I took a shower; I even called Becky, who had been frantically trying to reach me for the last couple of hours. I could hear how teary she was when she heard my voice, the relief when she realized that I was okay.
"I know you didn’t have a choice," I told her gently, as her trembling tone came down the line.
"Yeah, but... but something could have happened to you..."
"It didn’t," I assured her. "And it never will. Ilya would never let that happen, okay?”
She took a bit of convincing, but eventually she seemed to accept that me and the baby were okay, and I insisted that I needed to get some rest before we spoke about this properly.
I pray that she doesn’t go back to the apartment, where she might see the body of the man who did this to me.
Despite everything, I know she was only trying to keep herself alive when Sergei forced her to call me.
As I contemplate the nursery, creating a mood board for it on my phone, the thought of my baby sends a shiver down my spine.
It seems impossible that someone could ever have hated my child, given how purely innocent they are.
Sure, they might be born into this violent world, but that doesn’t mean they have to be stained or defined by it.
I can create a sanctuary here, a place where they can grow up in their own time.
A place where they eventually decide if they even want to be part of this world.
At least, that’s what I intend, and I’m sure that Ilya will have plenty to say about that. But we can figure that all out later. All I can feel is a warm glow when I picture Ilya, after everything he did to protect me. At the end of the day, I know he’ll do the same for our child.
As if I’ve summoned him with sheer force of will, I hear footsteps approaching. I turn, and there he is, Ilya, making his way towards me. My heart drops when I take in his bloody hands and exhausted face, but he shakes his head as he draws closer to me.
"It’s worse than it looks," he assures me as he reaches my side. "What are you doing here?"
"Setting up the nursery," I reply, my smile widening. "Well, as much as I can before we have anything for it."
He pauses for a moment and looks around the room, as though this is the first time he has pictured this place as a baby’s room.
His face spreads into a grin. I remember that the last time I was in here, Sergei hit me with those oblique threats.
I don’t intend to let anyone hit me with the same threat again.
"I like that idea," Ilya replies.
As I look at him, I can see how tired he looks. More than just physically, but mentally, as though the weight of the world is sitting on his shoulders. I slip my arm through his as my eyes search his face.
"Are you... are you okay, Ilya?" I ask him softly. I barely dare to dredge up everything that has happened again, but I need to know if he’s going to be okay after everything he’s seen, everything he’s been through.
He nods. "Everything’s under control."
"That’s not what I asked."
He turns to me finally, and when our eyes lock, I can see everything weighing heavy on him. No matter how he tries to spin it, no matter how sure of himself he acts, the man who was once his closest ally turned against him and tried to hit him in the deepest, darkest way possible.
"It’s okay if you need help, you know," I tell him gently. I doubt that this kind of conversation is going to come easy to him, but I want to coax it out as best I can. I want to show him that he doesn’t have to shoulder this burden alone.
"I don’t. Alexei is out of the state already, probably going to leave the country by the end of the week," he replies. "And after that—"
"I’m not just talking about the practical side of it," I remind him. “I mean, the emotional side of it, too."
He cocks an eyebrow. "Not a part I normally concern myself with."
"I can tell," I sigh, my hand stroking his face. "But for the sake of our child, will you let me try to help you?”
He falls silent for a long moment, and I can see the strain in his eyes as he gazes back at me, trying to figure out what it could mean for him to say yes.
I don’t push him, don’t pressure him towards any particular response.
It seems a miracle that I’ve managed to get this far with him, and I don’t want to spook him by nudging him too much.
"I’m not good at that."
It’s the first time I have heard him admit to any kind of weakness, though I doubt that he would consider this a weakness. No, to him, self-control is strength, even when it’s more than he can take.
I shake my head, cupping his face in my hands like he did to me back in the car. "Well, maybe you can indulge me," I murmur. "Given how much you’ve done to help me, I mean. Seems like the least you could do, right?"
After putting it like that, I can see that I’m starting to get through to him, as hard as it is for him to admit it. Now that he’s chosen me over his longtime second-in-command, I am certain that he sees me in a different light. Maybe as more of an equal now.
"Come on," I tell him as I tug him towards the door. "Let’s get you cleaned up."