Page 79 of Baby for My Ex’s Dad

“I do. He’s a treacherous, selfish, stupid little snake.” A breath. “And then he stepped in front of the gun. For the baby. After everything, he did that.” She shakes her head slowly, as if the two facts can’t fit together in her mind, and I understand her feeling because they don’t fit in me either. Her tears fall.

“I keep trying to make it make sense. It doesn’t. People don’t make sense sometimes.”

She pats my knee as she nods, final. “Something to keep in mind while you raise your child.”

My child. The one who has never made sense since the day I rescued him. “Oh my God, Potato. Galina. Potato. He was in the study when it, when they came, and I lost track of him, and I don’t know if⁠—”

“Stop.” She squeezes my hand. “That cat is the smartest creature in the entire house. The moment he heard intruders, he ran and hid⁠—”

“Are you sure?”

“He darted past my legs and toward your room. He’s probably under your bed right now. Animals know before we do.”

I breathe again, my heart slowing. “You’re right, you’re right. He’s smart. He lived on the streets before I ever came along. I’m sure he’s fine. I’ll feel better when I see him, though.”

“Soon. I’m sure it will be soon.”

I believe her, both because I need to, and because she’s right. Potato, the lucky, furry bastard, has more than nine lives.

Galina takes both my hands in hers, her cool, strong fingers, and looks at me straight. “You saved my life.” I start to wave her off, but she holds on. No. You listen. That man had his gun on my head, and you made him miss. I saw it. I will not forget it.”

“Galina, you were, I mean, I was only⁠—”

“I was saving the boy, and you were saving me—that’s exactly my point.” Her eyes stay on mine, fierce and certain. “That’s what family does, Thea. We save each other. You are family. Never forget this.”

I’m overwhelmed, sitting in a plastic chair in Pasha’s dried blood, being called family by the most intimidating woman I’ve ever encountered. I can’t find any words, so I simply hold her hands.

Which is when I see Maxim.

He’s rushing down the corridor toward us, his coat billowing behind him. His face looks like a stranger’s. Whatever has gone through today’s grief has turned into something empty and frightening. He is standing upright only by sheer force of will.

Only one thing a face like that can mean. Klaus. He didn’t make it.

I’m on my feet. “Max. Max, no, is he⁠—”

“I have to go.” He pauses in front of me, resting his hands on my shoulders. When I look at him closely, the hollowed emptiness in his face looks even more pronounced. It’s as if he’s barely in there. “Thea. I have to break my promise. I have to leave right now, and I cannot tell you where or why, and I need you to forgive me for it later when you understand.”

“Consider it done,” I say, because grief like this doesn’t need my questions. “What do you need? Tell me what to do.”

“Stay here.” His grip tightens. “In this hospital, inside these walls, with my men. You do not leave. You do not step outside. You don’t go anywhere they cannot see you. Galina can escort you to the restrooms⁠—”

“Max—”

“It might take hours, maybe a day, Thea, I can’t say for sure. But stay here where it’s bright and crowded until I return for you myself. Swear it to me.”

“I’ll stay. Whatever you need.” I take his ruined face in my hands the way he’s taken mine a hundred times. “Go do what you have to do. I’ve got the baby and Pasha. We’ll be right here.”

He leans down, pressing his lips to my forehead first, then quietly moving lower to kiss the gentle curve of my belly. It’s such a tender moment in the grieving chaos, as if he’s saying goodbye to two precious parts of me at once.

Then he heads out, rushing down the corridor and through the doors without a second glance. I have a feeling that if he had looked back, he might not have been able to leave at all.

Galina and I stand behind him. The doors swing open, then close slowly, and finally stop.

“He is going to bury a piece of himself.”

I nod, unsure what to say.

“Come. All that’s left for us to do is to take the next step together.” And she lowers herself onto her knees, hands folding, gray head bowing, and begins to pray in Russian, low and steady, the old words.