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I have to stop thinking about it, or I’ll get upset all over again,
Regan’s body was found the day after she was pushed out of the SUV. Of course, at first, I was worried that it would somehow be traced back to us, but her affiliation with Luka came to light much faster than any speculation could fall on Akim and me.
Luka had been well-known throughout the city police force as a menace and a criminal, and anybody who died in association with him was usually written off as a troublemaker at the least and a danger to society at worst.
Even though what she did to me was horrid and unforgivable, it still hurt to see her face on the TV every day until her body was identified. The photo they used to show her face was a picture of us together on her twenty-first birthday after she’d already had four drinks and too many cigarettes.
Looking at that photo every day felt like the most volatile, angry combination of grief, betrayal, and nostalgia all at the same time. It was a feeling unique to the circumstance that I would never wish to experience ever again.
Fortunately for me, I doubt I’ll get the chance.
The other women under Luka’s rule, therealvictims, were all able to find new lives in shelters around the city, though most of them decided to stay together. It was hard for me to say goodbye to all of them, but knowing that they would never have to endure Luka or his endless evil made it easier for me to let go.
They deserve better than all this. The mafia isn’t their burden to bear.
It’s mine.
At first, it took me a while to get used to the idea of raising a baby with a high-profile gang member. As much as I wanted to just focus on how much I love Akim, I knew it was stupid of me to choose naivete and risk making the wrong choice for my child.
But as time went on, I realized that he would be both fiercely protective of our son as well as an excellent teacher. Akim is so much more kind and empathetic than he would allow anyone to believe about him, and I get the privilege of seeing it every day.
When I started to get further along in the pregnancy, I realized that Akim was so willing to take over different tasks for me, like he really wanted to take care of me. Even though I wasn’t working, he insisted that I relax and enjoy myself as much as possible because he knew that I was still processing the trauma of being locked up in the basement.
He didn’t want me to be under any stress at all, and he’d keep me from it at all costs. He even cooked dinner most nights.
The day that I gave birth was complete insanity. I had been expecting the quiet, simple birth story that I’d heard so many women tell along the journey of my pregnancy. They all agreed unanimously that movies overplayed the experience, that none of them screamed nearly that much, that there was no rush of water or fainting husband.
I mean, I knew that Akim wouldn’t faint, but I couldn’t tell anyone why.
It was the middle of the night when I realized I was having contractions. I’d been having false contractions for weeks, and I was so tired of gathering everything to bring to the hospital when I was just going to be sent home again.
This time, it was real, and I chose to be stubborn about it for just a little too long.
When Akim finally convinced me to leave for the hospital, I was leaning against the wall, trying desperately to breathe through the pain. As good as he is at being gentle with me when I need it, he insisted that we leave for the hospital, packing up everything I had been bitching about carrying the last three times we went to the hospital.
On the way there, we ran into a horrific car accident that bottlenecked traffic long after we’d had the chance to get off the highway. At first, we thought it was a simple jam that would clear out quickly, but it took us two hours to get moving at a regular pace again.
What we had planned to be a twenty-minute car ride ended up taking two and a half hours. There was a brief moment when I was certain I would be giving birth to my baby in the backseat of Akim’s Bentley, which would have been hilarious if it wasn’t also terrifying.
When we finally made it to the hospital, I felt that same relief that I felt when I stepped into Akim’s penthouse for the first time after he’d saved me.
The nurse who admitted us was slightly annoyed that we were there again, but she tried really hard not to show it, so I’ll give her credit for that.
When it became obvious that we were there for a good reason this time, she seemed to change her tone a little, and after that, I felt like I could finally just have my baby without the weird guilt for wasting the nurse’s time.
Our son Vitaly was born at seven PM on a snowy night in mid-December.
The second I saw him, I knew he was Akim’s boy inside and out. He looked identical to him.
Of course, this made me a little bit jealous as soon as I noticed the similarities, but I was so overcome by love and pure euphoria that I couldn’t worry about a single thing, no matter how scary or how trivial.
My whole world had exploded into a transformed version of the life I had known before, and there was no going back.
This was my life now, just Akim, Vitaly, and me.
And I love it.
The End.
