Page 83 of If I Were Yours

Grigory’s driver takes us in the opposite direction of Markus’s apartment, down the long verdant road through Tiergarten. I wonder if that’s where we’re going, to the large park for a stroll.

I wouldn’t mind. It’s a beautiful place. But I don’t think the park is our destination. The amusement dancing in Grigory’s eyes hints at something more surprising.

“Do you have gloves?” He takes one of my chilly hands and rubs it between his big palms.

“Sorry, I didn’t think to bring them.” Actually, I didn’t think at all when we left this morning.

“We’ll have to get you some, then.”

“So, we’re going to be outside?” I guess out loud, glancing out the window at the sheen of snow covering the branches.

“Oh, yes. But it will be worth it,” he says with a big smile, clearly excited about this idea he’s had. I hope I can muster an equally happy response despite the heavy feelings weighing me down. I don’t want to disappoint him.

The car pulls up to a tall gate. A green and red pagoda roof with golden ornaments gives off Asian vibes, and so do the two smaller buildings on each side. My first thought is that it’s a restaurant, but the buildings are too small, the gate too big and leading into the open.

Then my focus falls on the two large elephant statues supporting the gate, and realization strikes.

“The zoo?” I squeal as I throw my hand up to my mouth, my wide eyes darting back and forth between Grigory and the gate.

Grigory lifts his bushy brows in eager expectation, and my smile grows even wider. If he’d told me he’d make me smile like this an hour ago, I’d have said it was impossible. But here I am, beaming like a ray of sunshine as I take his hand and step out in front of the gate. Not even the prospect of walking around in the chilly January air can kill my joy.

He steers me straight for the shop in one of the small buildings to get me a pair of gloves and a pink hat with a pom-pom. It doesn’t match my burgundy wool coat at all, but I don’t care. I’m going to the zoo with Grigory Volkov.

What an odd combination. The zoo and a world-renowned conductor twice as old as me. But strange as it may be, it’s probably the best thing that’s happened in weeks.

I can’t contain my giddy energy when we walk out of the shop and I see antelopes with long, spiraled horns. I haven’t been to the zoo in years even though I’ve always loved animals. I guess I figured I was too old, but that was clearly rubbish. There’s no such thing as too old for the zoo, I realize as we move on to the crazy monkeys and the lazy sloth.

Thefactclearly pertains to Grigory too because his smile remains plastered to his face as we walk through the park hand in hand. Though, I think it’s more because of me and my gushing about the animals than the park itself.

I’m surprised to find how easy it is to be here with him. There’s no worrying about what other people might think when he tugs me in for a long hug or when someone takes an extra look at our connected hands. It’s just him and me, talking and laughing like a real couple.

“Did you see that?” I ask, pointing to the moon bear as it rises on its hind legs, making a wave-like gesture with its paw.

“What?”

I look up to find him watching me with this warm glimmer in his eyes that makes a myriad of butterflies flap in my belly.

“The bear.” I lower my head shyly as a rush of heat warms my cheeks.

“It’s a very cute bear,” he says without turning his head. “But you’re cuter.” He tugs the pom-pom on my hat, and I shake my head as a wide smile spreads across my face.

“The bear was waving.” I glance back in its direction and see it rise on its hind legs again. “Look, look, it’s doing it again!”

Grigory turns and lets out a laugh. “Crazy bear.”

“Do you think I can take it home?” I ask when we move on.

“It might not be such a bad idea.” Grigory makes an amused huff. “It just might relieve that dreary mood of yours.”

“I’m sorry,” I say as I remember how worried Grigory looked earlier today because of me.

“Shh. It’s okay.” Grigory pulls me to his side, squeezing my arm. “You’re under a lot of pressure. But I can take it.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, looking up at him tentatively.

Grigory stops and levels me with a serious gaze. “Clara, I’ve been working in high-pressure environments all my life.”

“That’s different.”

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