19. Forever and a Day
Forever and a Day
Nikolai Levin
A few weeks into Bali, I had almost forgotten what day of the week it was.
Life had settled into a rhythm that felt entirely foreign after the chaos of Moscow. Wake up to the sound of the ocean, eat breakfast on the terrace, read, write whenever the mood struck, and spend the rest of the evening arguing with Zhenya about absolute trivialities. Sleep. Repeat.
It was the quietest, happiest I’d been in a very long time.
Which was precisely why I grew suspicious the moment Zhenya walked into our bedroom one afternoon. He had that particular look on his face—the slightly rigid, self-assured posture of a man who had already made a decision and had zero intention of consulting anyone else about it.
I looked up from my laptop, narrowing my eyes. “What?”
“Get dressed,” he said smoothly, stopping near the edge of the bed and tossing a linen shirt toward me.
“Why?”
“I have a surprise for you.”
That made me even more skeptical. Zhenya’s idea of a “surprise” usually involved an unscheduled legal briefing or a sudden change in security protocol.
“What kind of surprise?”
“The kind you’re not going to ruin by asking five hundred questions,” he replied. “Come on. Put the shirt on.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, I was standing in the middle of a dirt path with a silk scarf tied firmly over my eyes.
“This is completely ridiculous, Zhenya.”
“Keep walking,” he said, his hand wrapped around my forearm, steadying my stride over the uneven terrain.
“I don’t trust you when you’re being this theatrical.”
I heard a low, quiet laugh rumble from his chest. “Hold on to me and step down.”
His grip shifted, his fingers sliding into mine, his palm warm against my skin. The distant roar of the ocean grew clearer, and then the hard dirt path vanished beneath my shoes, replaced by the soft, shifting give of sand.
“Are we on the beach?” I asked.
“No.”
“Zhenya.”
“You’re ruining the pacing,” he murmured.
I let out a breathless laugh, but before I could reply, his grip loosened. His hands moved to the back of my head, untying the knot of the silk scarf.
“Ready?”
“No.”
“Too bad.”
The blindfold slipped away.
For a second, my eyes struggled to adjust to the bright, warm glow of the late afternoon sun.
We were standing in a secluded cove tucked beneath the cliffs.
Lanterns strung from wooden posts cast a soft, golden light over a long, rustic dining table set right on the sand.
It was covered in tropical flowers, small candles, and woven mats, with the tide lapping against the shore just fifty yards away.
But the setup wasn’t what made me freeze.
Standing near the edge of the table, holding a glass of sparkling water and grinning like an idiot, was Pavel.
Beside him stood Olga, her hands neatly folded over a dark linen dress. Alexei was adjusting a camera nearby, and Lev was standing a few paces back near the palm trees, looking as stoic as ever, though his eyes held a subtle, satisfied glint.
I stood dead still, my mouth slightly open. I looked at Pavel, then back at Zhenya. “What…”
Pavel lifted his glass in a mock toast. “Surprise, Niko.”
I turned completely to face Zhenya. “How are they here? How is she here?”
Zhenya slipped an arm around my waist, pulling me lightly against his side. “I had a few calls to make last week.”
“A few calls? Zhenya, you brought the entire household to Indonesia.”
“I did.”
He said it so plainly, as if flying half a dozen people across seven time zones was merely a minor logistical errand.
Before I could process it, Olga stepped forward, pushing Pavel out of her way, and pulled me into a fierce, bone-deep hug.
“You didn’t think we’d let you two stay out here all by yourselves for three months, did you?” she murmured into my shoulder.
I laughed, wrapping my arms around her tight. “I can’t believe this.”
“You should believe it,” Pavel chimed in, walking over to pat my back. “Your man had Lev arrange two private charters just to coordinate everyone’s schedules.”
I looked at Zhenya. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me?”
“I’m full of surprises,” he said smoothly, unbothered.
Olga pulled back, wiping a speck of dust from my collar before gesturing sharply toward the table. “Come and sit down before the food gets cold. I had to personally oversee the kitchen staff to make sure they didn’t ruin the meat.”
The scent reached us then—grilled beef, fresh seafood, local spices, and warm bread.
For the next two hours, there was only the sound of waves, the smell of woodsmoke, endless food, and the loud, familiar banter of the people who had kept us alive through the worst of it.
As the sun fully dipped below the horizon, leaving the beach illuminated only by the flicker of the lanterns and candles, the noise around the table gradually slowed to a comfortable murmur.
I was leaning back in my chair, a quiet smile fixed on my face, when I felt Zhenya’s hand slip under the wooden table, his fingers finding mine.
He squeezed my hand once, then stood up.
I looked up at him, caught off guard. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer me directly. Instead, he reached down, taking both of my hands in his and pulling me up to stand beside him.
The conversation around the table quickly died down. Pavel set his glass down with a quiet clink; Olga folded her napkin on her lap; even Lev adjusted his posture, watching us attentively.
Zhenya looked at me, his blue eyes reflecting the warm glow of the candlelight.
“Dear Nikolai,” he began, his voice deep, clear, and steady against the rhythmic crash of the tide.
My smile faltered slightly, a sudden knot forming in my throat.
“You cannot begin to imagine how angry I was the day my father told me, in front of the entire family, that I needed to bring a man home,” Zhenya said.
A quiet, appreciative chuckle rippled through the table. Pavel shook his head, taking a slow sip of his drink.
“At the time, I genuinely believed it was the most unreasonable demand he could have made of me,” Zhenya continued, his thumb brushing slowly over my knuckles. “Mother, as always, had her own agenda.” His gaze softened just a fraction. “And somehow, you became that agenda.”
I felt my chest tighten, my fingers clinging a little harder to his.
“These past few weeks have made me realize something,” he said, casting a brief glance toward the dark expanse of the ocean before bringing his focus right back to my face. “I’ve become very happy here. Relaxed.” He paused, a dry flicker of humor in his tone. “Perhaps even tolerable.”
Pavel snorted into his napkin.
Zhenya ignored him completely. “And I realized that this quiet—this life—isn’t something I want just for three months. It isn’t something I want only while we’re hiding away from Moscow.”
He squeezed my hands tightly.
“I want it forever.”
A sudden heat pricked behind my eyes.
“I know I am not a simple man to live with,” Zhenya said, his voice dropping into a softer, lower register that was meant only for me. “I can be rigid. I am frequently stubborn.”
“Grumpy,” Olga added quietly from her seat, a fond smile on her face.
“And I will likely stress you out for the rest of our lives,” Zhenya continued, entirely unbothered by the interruption.
A wet, breathless laugh escaped me, a tear finally spilling over my eyelashes.
“But I want to face all of it with you,” he whispered. He stepped half an inch closer, his presence warm and solid against the sea breeze. “Nikolai…”
He paused, holding my gaze with an intensity that took my breath away.
“My universe.”
My lips trembled.
“I promise I will always stand by you,” he said softly. “I will love every part of you—even the parts you think you have to hide from the rest of the world.”
He lifted my left hand, raising it between us, and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to my knuckles, right over the heavy platinum band resting on my ring finger.
“I love you today,” he murmured, his eyes locking back onto mine. “And I’ll love you forever and a day.”
I didn’t care about the staff watching, or Pavel cheering, or the tears blurring my vision. I leaned in, catching the lapel of his linen jacket, and pulled him down into a kiss.
He caught my face in his hands, his thumbs sweeping over my cheeks to catch the moisture there, kissing me back with a deep, unhurried certainty that made the rest of the world fade into white noise.
Around us, the beach erupted. Pavel let out a loud whistle, Olga was openly wiping her eyes with a handkerchief, and even Alexei was clapping loudly.
When we finally pulled back, I kept my forehead rested against his, breathing in the familiar scent of cedar and salt.
“You planned all of this,” I whispered, my voice raspy.
“I did.”
“Just for me?”
“Always for you.”
I laughed through the tears, wiping my face with the back of my sleeve. “I love you.”
Zhenya’s arms wrapped securely around my waist, holding me flush against his chest. “I know.”
I tapped his chest with a light fist. “You’re still insufferable.”
“You knew what you were signing up for,” he replied smoothly.
Laughter echoed across the table again as Pavel called for another round of drinks.
Standing there beneath the hanging lights, with the cold ocean wind rustling the palm leaves and the people who mattered most gathered around us, the final remnant of weight in my chest dissolved completely.
I didn’t need to look for a safe place anymore. It wasn’t a city, a house, or a country.
It was standing right in front of me.
Zhenya. My home.