“Just, uh… make sure you stay calm, okay?” Dmitri says. “Remember she’s banged up.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I snap, annoyed at the suggestion.
The door opens before anyone can say anything, and a nurse slips into the hallway. She looks up at me. “Are you the husband?”
I open my mouth to reply, but my brain won’t supply the right words.
“He told me you were coming,” she says, jabbing her thumb back at Marco. “He said you’re newly married, and Miss Volkova hasn’t updated her emergency contacts yet.”
“Yes. I’m her husband.” The lie slips from my lips, and I realize I don’t want it to be a lie.
“Well, your wife is doing well. We’re keeping her overnight for observation. She bumped her head pretty badly and has a mild concussion. Her arm will have to be in a sling for at least two weeks, maybe more. But the babies are fine as far as the ultrasound can see, which is another reason the doctor wants to keep her overnight. And he’s told her to see her regular OB/GYN as soon as possible.”
The other words are still filtering through my head, and I catalog each one, hoping Eva will let me help her in some way, even if it’s simply providing a ride. She’s already without a car, and she’ll be down an arm. And Marco has school and work to contend with.
Babies.
Dmitri and Marco are wide-eyed, staring at me.
“Babies?” I repeat the word, but my brain cannot comprehend it.
“Yes.” The nurse offers a patient smile and a pat on my shoulder. “I know this is a lot, and you must be worried, but everything is okay. Mother and babies will be just fine, Dad.”
She gives my arm another pat, then gestures to the door. “You can go see her. She’ll be in and out because of the painkillers. All safe for the twins, of course.”
She leaves, humming tunelessly to herself as if she hasn’t just dropped a bomb on my consciousness. On my life.
Shock mixes with rising anger, hot and heavy. “What the fuck is going on?”
Even Dmitri’s eyes round at the menace in my low growl. Marco backs away, but my second steps closer, steeling himself with a deep breath.
Dmitri doesn’t answer my question. “She didn’t do it to hurt you, Evgeny,” he murmurs, his mouth near my ear. “She’s just trying to survive. Go easy on her, okay? I think she was on her way to see you when she got hit.”
“I will talk to you about this later.” I grind each word through a tightly clenched jaw and push past him into Eva’s room.
30
EVGENY
My anger drains out of me, sudden and complete.
Thin light from the open window washes over the bed and over Eva. She’s asleep and doesn’t stir even when the door closes with a softclick. Her hair is a mess, and a bandage covers a knot on her forehead, already blue and purple. Her left arm rests in a sling. She’s hooked up to an IV. The heart monitor beeps slow and steady.
Eva is pale, and she looks so fragile in the oversize hospital bed. Beneath the gown and thin blanket, the rounding of her stomach shows through. I’m at her bedside before I’ve even finished thinking about crossing the room.
Even with her bruise. Even with the evidence of the enormous secret she kept from me, the IV, the messy hair, the hospital gown under fluorescent light that makes her luminous skin look sallow. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I’ve gone two months without seeing the woman I love, two months without hearing her voice, seeing the way her laughter lights up her eyes. I haven’t felt her touch, except in my dreamsand memory, or held her in my arms, where she fits perfectly against me.
And now, not just one but two children grow beneath the swell of the blanket. It’s all I can do not to reach down and rest my hand over that spot, to feel what Eva and I created together.
Twins.
Unexpected, unfamiliar emotion burns at my eyes, tightens my chest, rises in my throat, and steals my breath so my next one is a gasp.
Eva’s eyes flutter at the sound as I try to master my emotions. When they open fully, she looks at me, her gaze unfocused and hazy, before they snap wide.
“Eva—” I start, but tears suddenly glimmer in her eyes, then spill over and slide down her cheeks.
