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So I’m going to make a decision.
I just have to hope I’m not a fool for daring to believe I can have it all.
27
PAIGE
The house is eerily silent. I assume Misha is taking me back to my room, but he passes right by it. Instead, he stops at the room next to mine.
He gestures to the ornate brass doorknob. “Go on.”
“Nothing is going to jump out at me, right?”
He smiles. “Trust me.”
And, because he asks, I do. I swallow my nerves and turn the knob.
The space is large and it takes me a second to get my bearings. To understand what I’m looking at. Then the details click together one at a time, a beautiful puzzle.
The massive bay window with the plush window seat. A rocking chair. Two side by side cribs in the middle of the room.
“A nursery.”
I walk to the plush rocking horse in the corner like I’m meandering through a dream. That’s what this place is.A dream.
“It’s not finished, obviously,” Misha explains. “I wanted you to be able to have a say in the decor, too.”
The white armoire on the back wall is mostly empty, but there are sets of swaddle cloths and baby blankets folded on the top shelf. On the bottom one, I see colored, patterned squares arranged in a neat row.
“Wallpaper?”
“I had Niki pick them up. You can choose whichever one you want.”
“Has she been helping you out with this?”
“Unfortunately.” He sighs. “But as much as she irritates me, she is good at this kind of stuff. If we want any help, she’d love to volunteer.”
Emotion burns in my throat. I turn to him, eyes brimming. “This is… Misha, this is amazing. Everything in here is so beautiful. I can’t believe it. My babies are going to live here. In a few months.”
“Feels surreal, doesn’t it?”
“Completely,” I agree.
Somehow, we’ve drifted together. He’s only a few feet away now. Close enough that I can feel the heat building between us. The same heat that’s been burning there from the start.
“Thank you for giving me a say.”
He nods. “Of course. You’re their mother.”
“Sure, but I thought that counted for less in your world.” He frowns, and I feel like a bitch. “Sorry,” I add quickly. “That was unnecessary. Here you are, doing something nice for me and—”
“You don’t have to apologize, Paige. That’s exactly how I made you feel in the beginning. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
I stare at him in surprise.
“It seems I have a lot to apologize for,” he continues.
The vulnerability in his voice has that pesky hope standing back up, ready to try again. It’s been battered and bloodied, but it hasn’t been killed.
