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I’ve reconciled in my mind that I’ll have a foot firmly planted on either side of the law by aligning myself with Sebastian. If it were ever discovered that I performed medical procedures on victims of violent crime without reporting it to law enforcement, not only would I be fired, but I could also face other penalties, and possibly be charged with a 1stdegree misdemeanor. But Sebastian is the only one with proof of my infractions and those were all done to help his family and close friends. The knowledge is safe with him.
I’m wearing a sleeveless white linen dress with a matching cropped jacket, very Jackie Onassis looking, in my opinion, but it works. Sebastian is wearing one of his signature designer suits looking as devilishly handsome and debonair as ever.
God! I can’t believe this is the gorgeous hunk that I get to wake up to for the rest of my life. As lucky as I think I am, Bash is the one who gushes about how fortunate and honored he is to have me. Like he’s some humble servant who’s caught the eye of the queen or something. That’s the way he looks at me…it’s the way he’s looking at me right now as we stand before the altar and the minister.
Nicolaus, Stieg, and his wife, Lorna, stand by as witnesses to our nuptials. I had phoned my father, but while he wished me well and even spoke to Sebastian, he informed us that he wasn’t in the best of health to be traveling down from Alaska. I’m neither surprised nor disappointed, such has been the nature of our relationship since mom died.
But as I stare into the fathomless blue pools of Bash’s eyes, I see my future. I see my home. I see my family. And it is enough.
He takes my hands in his and there’s a contented smile on his lips as we stand before the minister.
“Mads,” he says and exhales tremulously. He begins speaking slowly in Russian, and then translates. “I loved you, within my soul, not fully extinguished. I love you to the depths of my life. And if there is a God, I love you to the last torment.” He closes his eyes a moment, and then continues. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I thought, this woman is going to save you, in so many ways. With you, the wounds inflicted upon me are healed and I am richer for it. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but I’ll spend the rest of my life finding special ways to make you forever happy that you agreed to become my wife.”
My eyes glisten, blurring him in my vision. I blink back tears as I smile.
“Bash, I look at you and I see all the things I ever wanted in a lover, a best friend, a confidante, in a word, a husband. In you, I have found my other half, my true soulmate. And for that reason, I gaze upon life’s journey with immense joy and abounding hope as I walk it with you.”
The minister turns to Nicolaus. “The rings, please.”
Nicolaus moves forward and hands the ring to Sebastian. He lifts my left hand and begins reciting his vow.
“"I, Sebastian Xavier Petrosky, take you, Madison Lynn Graham, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness."
He slips the ring onto my finger. Nicolaus hands me Sebastian’s ring. I take his left hand in mine and speak my vow. "I, Madison Lynn Graham, take you, Sebastian Xavier Petrosky, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness."
The minister smiles broadly. “And with that, I pronounce you, husband and wife.” He nods at Bash. “You may kiss your bride.”
Sebastian gently cradles my face in his hands, tilts his head and presses his lips to mine to the applause and cheers of Nick and Stieg.
I’d always imagined the day I’d announce myself as Dr. Madison Graham, but now I roll the name Dr. Madison Petrosky around on my tongue. Eh, I could get used to it. Taking Sebastian’s surname would help avoid any awkwardness over our child having a different name from mine.
We’ve decided not to inform the hospital administration until it was abundantly obvious that I’m expecting lest I immediately be downshifted to less interesting procedures.
Sebastian rented a truck and some movers to officially move all my things into his…our place. My name has been added to his bank account and credit cards have been issued in my name. I’m not naïve enough to think I have access to all his holdings, but I have more than enough to be very comfortable. This is good to know because, as a resident, I’ll only pull down about $60k a year until I enter private practice.
“You ready, Mads?” Bash calls from downstairs.
“I’m coming.” I gather up my handbag and sling it over my shoulder. Even though my summer break has begun, we’re not really feeling up for a major trip so fresh off of our Moscow vacation. Instead, for our honeymoon, we decide to spend the weekend at our house in the Hamptons. We’ve no major plans and are simply looking forward to some downtime just to enjoy being newlyweds before the mad chaos of my surgical residency begins.
Sebastian has warned me that during the same time, he’ll be extremely busy endeavoring to wrangle the business and expand operations around the hedge funds. We both hope we’ll find a comfortable rhythm by the time the baby arrives.
We throw our bags into the trunk of the convertible Porsche and are soon pulling out of the garage. We see Dmitri and his brother in their black SUV pulling out onto the road to follow us. The security detachment is our constant reminder of the dangers we face on a daily basis. Only now it’s become commonplace, a price I’ve agreed to pay to be with Sebastian.
I ignore the feelings of guilt over bringing a child into this world. I decided to accept the risks, but what will I be exposing our child to? How will he or she acclimate to having a mother who’s a surgeon and a father who…well, by that time, surely Bash’s dealings will have the strong appearance of legitimacy, at least to the uninitiated.
“Hey, look at this,” I say showing him the text on my phone. “Your mom says that she’s sending some kind of Russian sweetbread dessert. She said it used to be your favorite as a boy.”
A reluctant smile touches his lips. “It’s been years since I’ve had it.”
I rub his arm. “Who knows? Maybe being a grandmother will suit her better than being a mom.”
He shrugs. “Stranger things have happened.”
“It’s progress, Bash. Unless we’re planning to trek to Anchorage, Alaska, Ekaterina may be the only grandparent this kid will ever know.”
“We’ll see,” he says morosely. “Over the years, I’ve just learned not to expect a thing from her. So, it’s a little hard to start now.”
“Yeah, I get it,” I reply evenly. “We’ll just take it one day at a time, no pressure.”
