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He’sin lovewith him. It’s not a crush, mere admiration, or a fling. My son is fully, truly, and irrevocably in love with the gangster.
God rest my soul in fucking pieces.
“By the way.” Nikolai grins at Bran. “I’m totally going to tell my dad to ask you that exact same question when you meet him. I want to hear what you have to say.”
Bran smiles again and passes him a few jam-filled scones that he chomps on like a monster.
After breakfast, Astrid ushers them to the living room.
“Mum, shouldn’t you rest? You spent an all-nighter in the studio.”
“Nonsense. I wouldn’t miss the chance to meet Nikolai for the world. I had my English Breakfast tea. I’ll be fine.”
“Ma’am…” he trails off when she glares at him. “Astrid…I’m sorry I intruded on your resting time.”
“At least you’re aware of that,” I mutter, following close behind them.
My wife scolds me with those bright-green eyes that could make me do anything—absolutelyanything—except for handing over my precious Bran to this wanker.
“I can leave if that’s better—” His words come to a halt when Bran clutches his wrist and shakes his head.
“Absolutely not,” my wife says. “You’re our guest.”
“Not one I approve of.”
“Levi, seriously. Shouldn’t you be going to work?” She hikes a hand on her hip and offers me her stern look.
“I’m calling in sick.”
I’mliterallysick to my fucking stomach over the thought of yet another one of my children leaving the nest.
Yes, they’ve been going to university for a few years now, and I should be used to this feeling, but I most definitely am not. Besides, a part of me thought Bran would choose to move back home and stay with us for life.
Am I saying goodbye to my dream right now?
“Anyway, Nikolai,” my wife says after she shakes her head at me. “Do you want to see Bran’s baby photos?”
“Hell yeah,” he agrees readily like an eager child, then blurts, “I mean yes, please.”
“Mum.” Bran gives her an incredulous look.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this.”
Astrid leads Nikolai to her favorite sofa that faces the garden, then goes to the cupboard to fetch all the albums she treats like treasures.
Bran falls back so that he’s standing with me, a safe distance away from them.
We watch as his mother sits beside Nikolai and begins with pictures from the day she found out she was pregnant with the twins. We didn’t know they were twins at that time.
I remember that day so well. The joy that washed over us at the thought of having our own family was so palpable, I can still taste it on my tongue. It feels like yesterday, but it isn’t, because one of my first babies has his own life now and probably won’t call or text me when he needs a pick-me-up.
As Astrid tells Nikolai the story behind every picture, he listens carefully while looking at the album on his lap with keen interest.
Fucking creep.
Bran steps closer to me, his expression sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck and then speaks low so that I’m the only one who hears him. “Do you hate him that much, Dad?”
“Oh my, what gave you that impression?”
