Epilogue
KARINA - SIX YEARS LATER
I ’m sitting on the living-room rug with Anatoly, helping him arrange his toy animals exactly the way he wants them just so. He’s remarkably exacting for a two-year-old, so much like his father. The door clicks open, and our daughter’s bright laughter spills in before she does.
“I’m a butterfly!” she crows. “Madame says I’ll be the lead, and I even get a solo!”
“That’s wonderful, baby. I’m glad you’re happy with your part,” I say, hugging her. “Careful,” I add when she squeezes her little brother. He squawks in protest, then dutifully offers her his elephant. She flops onto the rug beside him and joins his game.
I lift my gaze over their heads and trade a smile with my husband. He lowers himself to the rug, and I lean into the solid warmth of his shoulder. Everything inside me settles into perfect alignment whenever he’s close. I never tire of it.
We play with the animals for a few more minutes before the nanny appears. “Time for Dimi to practice her piano,” she says. “And you, Anatoly, it’s bath time.” Once she shepherds the children upstairs, Dima and I gather the scattered toys and sink onto the couch.
I tuck my legs beneath me and nestle into Dima’s side as his arm drapes over my shoulders.
“She was the best dancer in the class by far,” he says, conviction humming in his voice.
“And you’re suddenly an expert on children’s ballet?” I tease.
“I know talent when I see it,” he says. “And did you notice Anatoly gave her his favorite elephant? He won’t even let me touch it when we play animals.”
“They have a very close bond,” I say happily. “The meeting went well. All the shipments are on schedule and the projections for next quarter are up again.”
“The bratva is thriving. More than it ever did under me alone,” he says.
“That’s because we make a good team.” I tell him.
“How was the rest of your day?”
“Better. The morning sickness is finally easing,” I say with a relieved smile. Our third baby is due this winter.
“Perfect. I was hoping you’d feel better by next week.”
“What’s next week?” I ask.
“We’re taking a little trip. It’s tradition.”
“Montenegro?”
“Of course. The renovations are complete. The suite on the floor beneath the penthouse now has an adjoining staircase and private elevator so the kids and the nanny can have their space but we can go back and forth between our room and theirs whenever we want.”
“That’s perfect. It’s just what I need,” I say. “Anatoly will love the boat.”
He chuckles. “If we can keep Dimi from trying to pilot it herself.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“I feel that way every single day. I wake up, realize I’m married to you, and think, I can’t wait to see what today brings. How did I get so lucky?”
I look up, and his mouth claims mine in a kiss so intimate, so hungry, it wrecks me just as thoroughly as the first time. He’s exactly right. I can’t wait.
The End