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I nod. “I think it has a certain ring to it.”
He takes my hand and pulls me onto the dance floor. My husband doesn’t dance, but tonight he twirls me around the dance floor like nobody's watching. After the song finishes, his father cuts in. “May I, son?”
I nod, my smile so broad I can’t stop it splitting across my face.
“One dance,” Khristian warns, taking his mom, Mila, into his arms. “I mean it, Papa.”
“You look so wonderful,” Mila says, giving me a warm smile.
“It’s been a perfect day,” I agree. I don’t get a chance to say anything else as Aleksander spins me around and away from them.
“I’m glad I got you alone,” Aleksander says, his Russian accent thick. “I wanted to thank you for making my son the happiest he’s ever been. His mother and I have waited so long for him to find this kind of happiness again.”
I nod, my throat thickening. “He’s been through so much. I know I can never replace Nina and Oliver, but Khristian is such a wonderful man. I know we’ll make each other so happy.”
He gives me a nod, his eyes glazing over. “You’re our daughter now.” His words strain a little. “And we’re very happy you’re a Petrov.”
“Thank you,” I say, we stop and I give him a big hug.
“Your father would be very proud of you.”
The tears flow freely now. “I know he would.”
He smiles. “I’m sure he’s looking over you, with a smile on his face, just like all of us are.”
“You’re a very kind man.” He takes my hands again and we begin to move. “I’m so happy to be part of this family.”
“Anything you need, just ask. We’re a family now. My son can be very stubborn.”
“Really?” I laugh. “I hadn’t heard.”
He laughs too as we pass by a very miffed Khristian. He’s so intense, even now.
“He’s a lot like me, but he has a lot of patience. You complement each other well.”
“I hope so,” I say. “I want to be the best wife I can be.”
“You already are; you made him so happy, that makes me and his mother happy too.”
His words warm my heart. His family accepted me with open arms, and I love them for that.
We don’t even get to the end of the song and Khristian cuts back in. “Save me, my dreaded sister is heading this way,” he groans.
I shake my head. “Khristina, be nice to Sascha, she’s helped me with the wedding so much.”
“Listen to your wife.” Aleksander points at his son. “Rule number one.”
Mila laughs as they embrace and they move across the dance floor elegantly. His parents are so not what I expected; they’ve been nothing but kind to me. I love them so much.
He grumbles as Sascha approaches. “Hey you two lovebirds,” she sing-songs. “I thought you’d be off somewhere doing the nasty.”
“No such luck,” Khristian complains.
I shove him in the ribs. “Everything is beautiful,” I say. We chose to get married in Central Park and had the reception at one of Khristian’s favorite restaurants called Eleven. We eat here all the time when we’re in town and they make amazing cuisine.
“I chose those table decorations,” she says proudly. “You’ve no idea what goes into explaining the color blush to New Yorkers.”
“You did an amazing job,” I tell her. “I’m so happy we get to be sisters.”
