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I stare at Nessa in shock. “Is that true?”
She shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter what’s true or not, Paige. What matters is what people believe.”
“I feel like you’re trying to tell me something here.”
She smiles. “You’re a sweet girl—kind-hearted, honest, sweet. All wonderful qualities. Qualities that I deeply appreciate in the woman my son chose. But I’m not sure they’ll endear you to the guests you’re going to be hosting next week. You need to be—”
“I need to be a Bratva wife,” I echo in a monotone for the hundredth time since this study session began.
She nods. “Exactly. Misha will have your back, but it can’t look like he’s coming to your defense all the time. It will make you look weak.”
I was confident with Misha the other night, assuring him I’d be the perfect hostess. But now that I’m back in my normal clothes and faced with the reality of the situation, nerves are starting to win out.
I didn’t expect there would be so much to learn. It feels like I’m about to step into a minefield without a map.
“How did you manage when you first married Maksim?” I ask.
“Trial and error,” she says simply. “My first dinner was a disaster. I picked the wrong food and chose the wrong wine. It could have all been okay, but the other wives descended on me with their judgment and critiques, and I burst into tears and ran out of the room.”
“Oh no!”
“I was already pregnant at the time, so Maksim made excuses for me and blamed my outburst on hormones. But once the guests were gone, he stomped up to my bedroom and threw a fit. He broke a mirror, threw things, ripped the dress I was wearing to tatters. I swear the only reason he didn’t hit me is because I was pregnant.”
“Oh, Nessa. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about.” She gives me a reassuring pat. “Misha is a different man than his father was.”
“He is,” I say adamantly. “That’s exactly why I want him to be proud of me.”
She smiles. “He will be proud of you no matter what. He loves you.”
“Yes, but his men need to love me, too. It’s important to Misha. That makes it important to me. I just…” I break off, caught up by my own vulnerability.
“Tell me, darling.”
“I don’t want him to regret choosing me,” I admit in a whisper. “I don’t want him to ever think that he might have been better off if he’d picked a different woman to be his wife. Someone who knows more about his world and how to exist here.”
Nessa shakes her head. “That won’t happen. You can do this, Paige.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you’ve got fight in you,” she says. “I know that because you managed to wear down my stubborn son. He had himself convinced he was going to be a bachelor for life. And now, look at him! He’s become the man I always knew he could be.”
The lump in my throat swells. It’s threatening to send me into complete hysterics. I can’t even blame my hormones; I would be fighting the exact same emotions even if I wasn’t pregnant.
I wait until the lump has softened before I give her a shaky smile. “I’ve never known what it feels like to have a real family. But now, thanks to you, I do.”
“If you ever need advice or help or anything at all, you can always come to me, Paige. I’m as good as your mother now.”
Well, that’ll do it. There’s no squashing down the emotion now. I swipe at my eyes. “You’re going to make me cry.”
Nessa laughs and puts her hand on my knee. “If you need to cry, my shoulder is right here.”
Okay,that’lldo it.
Tears roll down my cheeks and she holds me while I cry. Happy tears, emotional tears, regretful tears, resentful tears, all the tears. But for the first time in my twenty-eight years, I feel like I have a mother who will hold me through all of it.
45
