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She shook her head. “Not yet. I’m . . . afraid.”
Mama waved her away. “He can’t escape things now.”
Escape? This baby was a blessing, not a trap. “I don’t want Konstantin to marry me because he feels like he has to. And I don’t want a bitter father for my baby . . .”
“No.” Mama took her hands and squeezed them. “I’ve seen the way that man looks at you. You’re his world. Now this baby is part of it.”
Varushka managed a shaky smile. “I hope you’re right.” Was it true that this baby would fix things between the families? Babies usually didn’t fix things, they complicated them, but maybe this situation was an exception. If Konstantin did want her and the baby, would Papa abandon his ridiculous moral high ground and be happy for them? Or if not happy, at least tolerate Konstantin, for the sake of his grandchild and his daughter’s reputation? If so, maybe this baby was more of a miracle than she’d realized.
Mama hugged her again then straightened her shoulders and scowled. “Now let’s get that boy on the phone!”
* * *
Despite Mama’s insistence, Varushka couldn’t tell Konstantin about the baby on the phone. She needed to do it in person, where she could see his face, read whether he was truly happy or not. No matter what Mama said, she couldn’t go into a marriage, much less motherhood, with a man who didn’t want her.
According to the text she’d received two hours ago, Konstantin was on his way to her house from the airport. She’d spent the last two hours walking around the swimming hole where they’d played vodyanoy. They’d spent the couple of evenings that followed sneaking there to see each other, too, until Antonia had slipped up. Their baby must have been conceived then. She tried to capture every feeling of lazing in the grass together in her memory, in case it was the last time.
Now she sat on the living room couch, alone with this secret, as she fiddled with the hem of her yellow sundress. Her mind had turned over possibilities of how he’d react so many times that she’d gotten dizzy. She’d cried all her tears and was sure she couldn’t cry more, no matter what he said. Yet when a car door slammed outside, her eyes welled up again.
Mama had shooed away her brothers and Papa, giving them errands to do in town so she and Konstantin would have privacy. There was a knock and the door opened. Varushka’s heart jumped to her throat.
He walked in, his head almost grazing the top of the door frame. It was such a relief just to see him that she shot to her feet and ran into his arms. His scent washed over her, calming her, making her feel like everything would be okay. She only hoped it was true.
Konstantin held her tight against him, kissing her hair over and over. “I missed this.” He wrapped his hand i
n her hair, but not to pull, just to tip her head back and study her. “God—I missed everything about you.” Holding her still, he bent his head and kissed her.
He kissed her deeply, like she was his air and he needed to breathe her. Urgently, she moved her mouth against his, memorizing his taste, in case this was their last kiss. All too soon, he pulled away, but he smiled down at her.
For now.
Breathless and warm, she stared into his eyes. When they were apart, there were times when she’d wondered if she was remembering him as being more wonderful than he was—if absence was making her blind to his imperfections. He was a man, not a god, after all. But having him here like this brought everything back clearly. Konstantin was a good and decent man in all the ways that counted. More importantly, though, he was hers just as much as she was his. But a baby could change everything.
Her heart warred between fear and hope and love. Overwhelming love. Tears trailed down her cheeks.
“What’s this?” he asked, wiping her tears with his fingers.
“I . . . I have something to tell you.” She watched his brow furrow in confusion. She didn’t want to let him go yet, but this would be easier if she stayed objective—detached, even. Gesturing to the couch, she said, “Please sit down.”
He looked at the couch then back to her. “So formal.” He chuckled. “But okay.”
After he sat, she stood in front of him, wringing her hands and feeling like an idiot.
“What is it, malish?” he asked softly.
She opened her mouth to answer then froze. Bozhe moi. She’d rehearsed what she was going to say so many times and now it was gone. She couldn’t remember a single word of it.
With her hand on her forehead, she muttered a curse word, then ignored Konstantin’s soft chuckle. A warm hand gripped her wrist then Kon tugged her to him. “Sit with me. I missed you too much for you to be so far away.”
“Far away?” She laughed humorlessly but let him sit her down on his knee. “It was only a few meters.”
“It was too far.” He gathered her against his chest, trapping her in his arms. “Now, what is this all about? Why are you so nervous? Are you about to break up with me? Because if so, I won’t allow it.” His tone had been teasing, but his muscles were tense.
She let her head fall on his shoulder, then nestled her face into the warm spot in the crook of his neck. Her favorite spot. She inhaled deeply, letting his scent soothe her. “You won’t allow it? Am I stuck with you?”
“Yes, of course. A vodyanoy never releases his victims.”
Past the joking, she could hear the uncertainty in his voice. Was he afraid to lose her? Or was she imagining things?
