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“I’m sorry,” she repeats, this time peppering kisses all over my cheeks, nose, lids, and lips.
My body relaxes under her touch and I close my eyes just so I can feel her warmth colliding with mine and her heartbeat thundering against my own.
She’s here.
She’s actually here.
Every morning, I wake up thinking my reality is a dream and that I’ll find myself in an alternative reality where she’s dead.
After what seems like minutes, she pulls back and murmurs, “Now what, Kirill?”
I slowly open my eyes and stare at her expectant face. “Now?”
“After this.” She throws her hands around.
“Why does there need to be an after?”
“We can’t possibly live the honeymoon phase forever. You have responsibilities as the Pakhan.”
My mood shifts, taking a sharp dive in the opposite direction. “Fuck that.”
“Well, I have my own responsibilities.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” I start to get up, but she palms both my cheeks.
“You can’t pretend the outside world doesn’t exist.”
“Watch me.”
“But—”
I shut her up with my lips on hers and my hand squeezing her throat. She gasps into my mouth, but she soon crashes her tongue against mine.
Sasha might pretend that she won’t hesitate before leaving me, but she, too, is being held hostage by this invisible connection she and I share.
The connection that refuses to break, no matter the circumstances.
The connection that’s been present for as long as we’ve known each other.
I’m ready to fight a million-year war as long as I find her at the end of it.
When we break apart, she’s panting, her lips swollen, and her eyes glittery. “W-what was that for?”
“To shut you up.” I stand and check my phone. When I find the text I’ve been waiting for, I grab her hand. “We’re leaving.”
She doesn’t say anything, seemingly dazed. But she does put on some disgusting Christmas music and sings along when I’m driving away.
I find myself smiling every time she gets excited because she knows the lyrics. I might drive slower, too.
When we arrive at the cottage, she climbs out, her shoulders hunched. “We should’ve at least gotten a little tree.”
“There’s no need.”
She stops short in front of the house when she sees the dozen strings of lights and two Christmas trees outside.
“You…did this?”
“I ordered it. Does that count?”
“Yes!” She hugs me, jumping up and down while doing so. Since I’ve become addicted to her hugs, I use every chance I get to enjoy her touch.
After a while, she notices the two cars crowding the driveway and searches my gaze. “Who did you invite?”
She doesn’t wait for my reply as she dashes inside. The house is in full annoying Christmas spirit. Karina is telling Viktor that he’s decorating the tree all wrong and that, apparently, the lights can’t be placed like they’re security wires.
Konstantin and Kristina are placing their own ornaments and smiling at each other like the protagonists of a clichéd Hallmark movie.
“Sasha!” My sister gives up on correcting Viktor’s feeble attempts at decorating and runs into my wife’s embrace. “What do you think? What do you think?”
“This is so beautiful.” Sasha greets the others and even pats Viktor on the back, to which he grunts.
If I’m a grinch, he’s a heretic.
“Is that you?” he says, judging my sweater so hard, I’m surprised he doesn’t shoot laser holes through it. “Couldn’t recognize you in those hideous colors.”
“Very funny.” I give him a forced smile and he just shakes his head, suppressing his own smile.
I go upstairs to change out of the awful thing. I’m buttoning my shirt when the door to the bedroom opens. Soon after, toned arms wrap around me from behind and Sasha buries her head in my back.
My eyes briefly close, thinking about that image of her I conjured after I thought she was dead.
No. This is real. She’s back.
My wife whispers, “Thank you for planning all of this.”
I turn around to face her. “You’re not uncomfortable with the whole Christmas vibe?”
“Not as much as I thought I’d be. It’s time I let go of that. Thank you for making me step out of my comfort zone and sharing your family with me.”
“Should I tell Maksim to bring Anton over?”
She shakes her head. “He’ll try to kill you or hold Karina hostage to kill you.”
I’m glad she’s levelheaded enough to recognize that. I only mentioned it to placate her. I’d never allow that vermin near my family. If it were up to me, I’d never allow him near her either.
“Take me to visit him later instead,” she suggests. “For now, let’s just live in the moment.”
The moment.
I like that.
One problem, though. I’m not an in-the-moment type of person.
My mind is already full of possible plans for the future. However, all the noises quiet down when my wife gets on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on my lips. “Schastlivogo Rozhdestva, Luchik.”
Merry Christmas.
I’ve never liked this atrocious holiday as much as I do right now.
