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“For what? I serve you tea every day. Many times a day. It’s nothing.”
“For telling me about your life. For giving me advice.” I lift my teacup. “It means a lot to have your support. I don’t have much here.”
Her gaze softens slightly. Not fully. But enough. “You’re welcome, Liya Frankovna.”
And then she lifts her mug to drink her tea.
Within a few minutes, my bladder twitches. I lift the box and take it with me to the bathroom, walking as slowly as I would in a funeral procession. I shudder to think that I’m walking to my grave right now.
Eighteen years is a long time to be locked down with Pavel.
But maybe it’s worth it if I’m getting through to him.
And maybe it’ll help us fall in love.
The bathroom seems so much bigger than it did initially. The tiles gleam such a stunning white that I close my eyes, trying to find the counter without looking. For once, I don’t trip over my own damn feet.
Come on, Liya. Harness that strength.
I look at my reflection.
Be a wife and a queen.
It only takes a few minutes to take the test. I set a timer on my phone and then sit on the back of the toilet, staring at the white stick that’s going to tell me whether I have shadows in my path or not.
I frown while trying to imagine my life with a baby.
Would I be a good mom? A loving mom?
Am I too broken to be loving?
I huff.Of course I’ll be a loving mother. How could I not love my own child?
I try to picture Pavel as a kid with charcoal on his hands and face, smiling at his drawings. It doesn’t translate.
But it doesn’t have to. Because my child won’t have to suffer like that.
The timer on my phone beeps. My eyes skirt to the white stick as I shut off the alarm.
Only one pink line stares back at me.
I glance at the box, glance at the stick, glance at the box again.
And then I sigh.
A knock echoes at the door. “Liya?”
“Negative,” I respond shakily. “I’m not pregnant, Viktoria.”
She sighs. She sounds just as disappointed as me when she says, “I’m very sorry,krolik.”
“I’m spending the day in my room,” I tell her even though I don’t have to. “If Pavel comes home early, just…” I cough to hide the sob that threatens to break free. “Tell him I’m busy.”
“Yes, of course.” I don’t hear her footsteps retreat. I don’t hear her bustling through the penthouse. She’s still with me. And part of me is so comforted by that. “He called while you were in the bathroom.”
“What did he want?”
She clears her throat and says, “He wants to take you sailing tomorrow.”
