Chapter 20 - Mikhail
Sleep is hard to come by. Even in the dark of the guest room while Lily sleeps in the master, while the condo is entirely quiet around us, my mind won’t shut off. It’s entirely too full to rest.
I lie still for hours, watching the shadows shift and move across the ceiling.
I can’t think about anything but her and the baby.
My baby…ours.
That word echoes in my head again and again. I can’t shake the test results or the doctor’s words. Lily’s face when he said it, along with the disbelief and panic. The fear seemed entirely brand new to her.
Something in me assumes I should be terrified, too. I should be dreading the thought of taking care of a little one when I already have so much going on.
But beneath my shock, there’s a pulse of something else I wasn’t expecting to feel.
Excitement.
It still catches me off guard. Even if I’m trying to keep my head on straight through the reality of the situation, it has taken root, and I know it won’t let go.
I’ve been convinced of something existing between us that goes beyond the bounds of legality. I know that fire burns regardless of how Lily has been trying to ignore it.
But now, there’s tangible proof of it, and it’s growing in her stomach.
A child…a real child. It’s undeniable and irreversible.
When I finally pull myself out of bed, giving up on trying to sleep, it’s early. The penthouse is still bathed in dark grey hues while I walk across the hall and down the steps.
To my surprise, the smell of coffee hits me before I reach the kitchen. Sure enough, Lily’s already there, barefoot and wearing one of my shirts. It hangs just past her thighs with nothing underneath, and even through my exhaustion, it stirs something in me.
She doesn’t notice me at first while she focuses on pouring a cup of coffee like it’s the only thing that’ll get her through the rest of the day.
Her eyes eventually flick over to me, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Morning,” I say to test the waters.
She takes a moment, then repeats back to me, “Morning.”
When she puts the coffee pot down again, I cross the room slowly and keep my eyes on her. She doesn’t pull away or flinch, but her shoulders are still stiff. It almost looks like she’s prepared to run again, assuming this is something she can somehow get away with.
Standing beside her, I grab a mug and pour some for myself.
I want to reach for her, but I restrain myself.
“You didn’t sleep.”
“Neither did you,” she murmurs.
She isn’t wrong.
Silence lingers between us while I set my mug down, pausing while I think about how to ease into it.
I just want to lift that heavy mood between us.
I want to make her laugh, or at the very least, smile.
But I know everything is weighing on her too much.
There’s no use pretending like the world isn’t coming down on her right now.
I pull myself together and look over at her. “We should talk about it.”
“You think?”
The nervous tension in her voice doesn’t escape me. Before I can answer, she places her mug down and faces me.
She forces out a heavy breath, looking more lost than ever. “I don’t even know where to start…it doesn’t feel real, but I know it is. I’m pregnant, and now I have to consider what that means for me…for my future—”
“Our future,” I correct her, gently but still firm.
Her brows furrow, eyes narrowing into mine. “You keep reminding me like that’s going to fix everything. Like I asked for any of this!”
The blow from her words hits hard and direct, but I don’t react. I can’t. I just watch while she unravels, aware that she likely needs to get it off her chest.
“I had plans, Mikhail. I had a life and a schedule, and everything was intentional. Med school, an apartment, the dreams of a career. A chance to do something that matters. Those were the decisions I made by myself,” she throws back at me, eyes slightly wider with the complicated emotions surrounding her.
“Now I’m stuck in this place like it’s a prison, married to someone I hardly know, with a future ahead of me that looks nothing like the one I chose. ”
Her voice cracks at the end, making my heart clench.
Despite how her claims hurt, I step forward slowly, but she takes another step back. She’s trembling, as if everything she’s been holding in is finally being let loose.
“You’re not stuck, Lily. You’re safe, and you’re not alone,” I offer, trying to empathize even if I’m the source of most of her grief.
“But I am alone. You have to see that by now,” Lily mumbles, voice smaller and more defeated.
“Everywhere I look, I see men with guns. I see your brothers talking about hits and dirty business as if it’s normal.
Elena and Victoria try to help, but they’re more like you than like me.
You brought me with you to rescue a child from being trafficked, like it was just another weeknight…
how am I supposed to bring a child into this? ”
She presses a hand to her stomach and releases a shaky breath. “I don’t know how to be a mother here. I don’t even know how to survive this myself.”
I do my best to keep my head on straight and to keep it all in, but her words hit deep. They aren’t meant to wound me, but they still do, given how it’s true. Somehow, that makes it feel even worse.
But I understand. She’s terrified.
“We weren’t exactly avoiding it, but I didn’t plan for this either,” I say gently, taking that small step again. This time, she doesn’t move. “But I spent all night thinking, and I know what I want. I can only hope that you want it, too.”
Her wide, uncertain gaze lingers on me, but she doesn’t speak.
“I want this child, and I want you, Lily. Not just because you’re my wife, and not out of any business obligation.
But because I care about you more than I ever expected to.
More than I even want to admit some days,” I continue, noticing the subtle cracks in her expression.
“I know what I do is dark and oppressive sometimes, but I don’t plan on letting anything happen to you—or this baby.
I’m not a monster planning on taking everything away from you.
I’ll burn everything down if it means keeping you safe, but that doesn’t mean I’ll get in the way of you following your dreams. You can be Lily, and you can also be my wife.
This marriage doesn’t have to be erasure. ”
While she stares at me, taking in every word, I reach forward and carefully take her hand in mine.
“I know this won’t fix everything, but I mean it. You have my word. You aren’t alone, and you never will be.”
That hesitance lingers in her body before she finally slumps as if exhaling after hours of holding her breath.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she admits, voice small.
“Then we’ll figure it out together,” I tell her, gently squeezing her hand.
Despite the strength she has worked hard to maintain, Lily’s eyes well up, gently shaking her head. As a tear slides down her cheek, I reach up and brush it away with my thumb.
Her voice leaves her in a quiet tremble. “I don’t want to give up who I am because of this.”
“You don’t have to. You’re still you… The ambitious young woman I’ve been falling for more every day.”
As if she doesn’t fully believe me, she lets out a small, almost hesitant laugh, but the corners of her lips manage to pull just enough.
“I mean it,” I murmur, leaning down to press my forehead against hers.
Even if I should hold myself back longer and keep from crowding her space, I can’t help myself.
Her breath hitches faintly, seemingly surprised by the gesture, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans into it.
“Our marriage may have been done out of convenience, but everything is still real to me. From the moment I saw you at the club that night, I knew I couldn’t be without you.
And now that you’re pregnant…that fact has skyrocketed,” I reassure her, bringing a grounding hand to her waist. “I know it’s a big ask, but I want you to trust me.
Put your faith in me, and know that you are at the forefront of all of my decisions. ”
While she holds my gaze, her eyes search mine, as if looking for something specific. “Can I do that? Can I trust you?”
“Yes, you can,” he returns gently, letting our noses touch slightly, barely resisting the urge to cut that space. “I used to only think about myself and my family, but now, you’re a part of that equation. The baby, too.”
Lily’s eyes soften then, and without hesitation, she closes the distance.
Her lips find mine not out of obligation, but with her own desire to. It isn’t forced, and it’s not even desperate to begin with.
Instead, her mouth softly melds with mine, and I know it’s real.
That contact is warm and searching, and fragile in its own way. Somehow, it’s even more powerful than anything we’ve shared before.
Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her close and feel my heart racing.
“We’ll be okay,” I whisper against her lips, offering her a gentle squeeze.
In return, her breath fans against me before she moves back in, kissing me with more urgency that tells me she’s still scared, but willing to try. Willing to try and trust me.
I know there’s still more to figure out, and more pieces to put into place, but for now, I’m more than willing to get lost in that shared warmth. To soak in everything her and forget about the rest for a short while.
For now, her acceptance puts me at ease, and the taste of her lips gives me the strength I need to keep going.