Chapter 25
ALINA
Istare into the full-length mirror for a long time, taking in the sight. The dress isn’t what I imagined I would wear when I got married. In fact, somewhere across town, in a designer’s studio, is a half-finished dress that was meant for my wedding to Kostya.
I wonder if his mother canceled the order. The designer has probably already stripped it down for material. It makes me a little sad. Despite everything, I really did love that dress, even if it was a little more extravagant than anything I would have bought on my own.
Andrei hasn’t given me an exact date for the wedding yet, but I know it’s coming soon.
Probably within the next two weeks. It’s better that way, because I’m going to be showing soon.
I tell the salesgirl this as I try on a dress that’s slightly too big.
She insists on bringing me a smaller one that’s more fitted to my body, but I tell her about the pregnancy.
I don’t even hesitate. I figure, who’s she going to tell? Her only job is to make this sale, and she can’t do that if I’m not satisfied with her attitude.
She’s so gracious, she doesn’t even comment on the bulky security guards who forced her to shut down the boutique for an hour so I could shop without interruption.
I’m sure they paid her handsomely, but I can’t imagine that’s something she experiences every day.
Still, she’s spent the last half hour smiling at me like this is normal.
None of it is, though. Instead of a legitimate, grand wedding to a man I thought I loved, I’m going to have a shotgun wedding with a man who knocked me up. Who doesn’t know he knocked me up.
Shit, this is all so complicated. The dress is fine. It’s pretty and elegant and won’t cause too much fuss. As long as this wedding happens in the next month. Apart from that, I don’t really care. I tell her I’ll take it and she leaves me alone to change back into my clothes.
I sigh as I stare at myself, half-naked in the mirror. I’m not showing yet, but I’ve definitely filled out a little. My boobs are bigger, for sure, and my face is a little chubbier than I’m used to. It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone who doesn’t stare at me as much as I stare at myself in the mirror.
How long can this marriage actually last before Andrei finds the people trying to murder him? It won’t be much longer before my body starts to change in ways I can’t hide. When that happens, I don’t know how we’ll handle it.
He can’t know. I can’t let him know that there’s a child growing inside of me. His world is far too dark and dangerous for something so precious and innocent. If this issue doesn’t get resolved quickly, I’ll have to figure out a way to disappear.
I dress and go back out the cash register to pay for the purchase. I smooth my hands over the fabric, trying not to imagine what it will feel like to stand beside him and pretend this is real. Pretend this isn’t just another temporary shelter before I disappear from his life forever.
There’s no version of the future where a man like Andrei Markov gets to keep a child he never chose and a woman like me. His world is too dangerous. Too violent. Too unforgiving. I won’t trap him in something he didn’t ask for, even if it breaks my heart to leave.
Tears burn suddenly behind my eyes, so fast I barely have time to swallow them down. I blink hard, trying to keep them at bay.
The saleswoman stares at me sympathetically.
I’ll have to start refusing him, picking fights, and acting distant. I’ll have to start pretending that I don’t want the only person who has made me feel safe in months.
The idea of pushing him away on purpose feels unbearable. What’s worse is that it will be the last thing he remembers of us. He’ll only remember the distance, and the coldness. I’ll have to spend our last precious moments together pretending that I don’t love him.
My vision blurs again, and this time I can’t stop the single tear that slips free. I wipe it away quickly before it falls, like erasing evidence of a crime.
“Everything is going to work out,” the saleswoman says cheerfully, misinterpreting my tears. “Wedding dress shopping is always stressful, but you have so much to celebrate!”
I just smile at her and hand over the platinum card Andrei left with me.
I watch numbly as she takes the dress I don’t care about and zips it up in a garment bag, chattering away happily about what a beautiful bride I’m going to be.
I’m grateful she doesn’t say anything about the baby in front of the guards.
I’m grateful to get out of that store and feel fresh air on my face.
I make the guards stop at an art store on the way back.
They don’t argue with me, which is nice.
One of the men is stationed outside of the store, and the other comes in with me, flanking me at a comfortable distance.
He’s close enough to swoop in the second there’s a threat, but far enough away that he isn’t overbearing.
It’s a beautiful little shop just a few blocks from Andrei’s penthouse. Everything here is much nicer than what I would usually buy, but Andrei’s given me free use of his credit card, and he’d probably be happy to know that I’m doing something that I love.
I pick up a deep green pencil and turn it slowly between my fingers. I try to feel the quiet joy I used to, but nothing comes. There’s just a low, restless unease that won’t settle. The back of my neck prickles.
I feel watched and hunted, somehow. I glance toward the door even though I know the guard is standing there. Even though I know no one can get close to me without the other guard swooping in and taking them out.
Still, the feeling lingers. It’s not something I can really explain. I’ve certainly never experienced it before. Maybe it’s just paranoia or the strain from the constant stress. Maybe it’s just my pregnancy hormones acting up.
Whatever it is, I feel unsettled. Even in a place that should make me happy and put me at ease, I can’t relax. I feel off-balance. Nothing in my life makes sense anymore, not even art.
I grab a few things because I can’t stand the idea of walking out of here empty-handed, but I’m not paying that much attention to what I grab. I don’t even really listen when the cashier gives me my total. I feel hypervigilant, like something terrible could happen to me if I don’t pay attention.
I know it’s ridiculous. I know that the guards are going to get me safely back to the penthouse. Even so, I feel a sharp sense of relief when we finally get in the car and start driving.
The car ride is silent. I press my palm lightly to my stomach, hidden in the folds of my coat.
I will protect you, I promise my baby silently. Even if it costs me everything.
By the time the penthouse doors close behind me, the tightness in my chest has finally eased.
For better or worse, this is my home now.
This is the one place I can just exist without constantly being on edge.
I go to my room and put away my new art supplies.
Then I carry the dress to Andrei’s much larger closet and hang it in there.
It doesn’t take much time at all, though, and there’s still a lingering nervous energy. I go to the kitchen and find some things to make a small meal. After I eat, I get out my new supplies and start sketching a design.
None of it stops the endless thoughts of fear in my mind.
It doesn’t ease the anxiety that’s growing in my chest. I have to protect this child.
I have to give it a life that’s safer than my own.
No secrets. No parents working for crime organizations.
No chance that this baby could get caught up in a plot it doesn’t remotely understand.
I have to start planning my exit, because staying with Andrei isn’t remotely an option. That’s what finally breaks me. That’s what makes the tears flow in earnest, and sobs to rip through my chest.
Already, I’m mourning the loss of this life. I’m mourning the loss of this relationship that might have been the real thing. I’m mourning the life I could have if Andrei were another man. Even so, I know that, as long as this child is growing inside me, I have no other choice but to leave.