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The only thing that truly seems to take his mind off everything is sex. We’re tumbling around in the sheets daily, sometimes multiple times, and I’ve never been so sure that I’m going to get pregnant as I am now.
But I’m nervous too, because I don’t feel pregnant. I haven’t had any of the symptoms, and I’m scared to take a test and realize all of this hasn’t resulted in a baby. It feels impossible for that to be the case unless I’m infertile.
Fuck, I don’t even want to think about it. I can’t imagine being chosen by Pasha to be the mother of his child, the perfect DNA match for his Bratva, and I’m unable to bear children for him.
I would be humiliated. I’ve heard about this happening, and I don’t understand how some women can be so strong and accept a life without children. I doubt I would be able to face that kind of reality, especially knowing that Pashaneedsthis from me.
And I want it. I never even thought about having kids before I met him, but I realize it’s what I was meant to do. When you meet the right man, you just know you have to have his children. It feels so right, so natural.
And I get that not everyone wants kids, but the urge to ditch the condom and feel your man cum inside you is instinctual. The results might not be for everyone, but… I’m not even getting the results. I’m just fucking for the sake of fucking, and I haven’t gotten pregnant.
I want to pull my hair out. The solution can’t just be having more sex. I probably need to see a doctor or something, but I could just be overthinking it. What if I already am pregnant?
That would be easy to prove if I wasn’t such a wimp.
I’m mulling over the idea of asking Pasha to go to the store with me to find some pregnancy tests when he enters the kitchen. His eyes are bright and he’s panting like he’s out of breath, but he’s been inside all day.
“Found another tree to chop down?” I joke as I test the rise of a particularly stubborn lump of dough. I poke my finger into it, but it doesn’t spring back the way I like. Have I been adding too little yeast? Maybe not enough gluten…
“Your necklace,” he says, grinning wildly. “It’s been found.”
I reach up to my neck like it’s going to magically appear there. “What? Are you sure?”
He nods. “Emerald pendant. Gold chain.”
“There’s more to it than that, but I want to see it.”
“Someone from the diving team is bringing it to the house as we speak. They should be here in just a moment.”
There’s a knock on the door following Pasha’s words, and he runs over to it, flinging it open. I lean back, dusting my hands on my apron as he welcomes a man in a diving suit stripped down to his waist. It looks like he just climbed out of the water and ran here.
“Here it is, sir,” the man says, dropping something into Pasha’s cupped hands.
I catch a hint of green, and my heart leaps into my throat. Not only does this mean that Pasha has succeeded in righting his wrongs and finding Julia’s necklace, but it also means we’re going back to the United States.
I love Italy but I’m really starting to miss home.
Pasha thanks the man, turning to me and carrying the necklace in his cupped hands like it’s a frog that might jump out if he opens them. He holds it right under my nose before the big reveal, opening his hands slowly and watching my face with an adorable level of eager anticipation.
It’s an exact match for the necklace he threw into the ocean, but I have to be sure. There’s one critical way to find out, and it’s hidden on the back of the clasp.
The gold is slightly tarnished by the saltwater, but as I flip it over and examine the chain, I spot the detail that makes the difference between a priceless possession and a generic piece of jewelry.
On the clasp, there’s a little symbol engraved in the metal. Julia and I are both Geminis. Our middle names, Castor and Pollux, are inspired by the sons of Zeus and Jupiter, so the Gemini symbol is very special to us.
It’s engraved on the back of this necklace, making it the real deal.
I put it around my neck, my fingers trembling as I struggle to close the clasp.
“Let me help you,” Pasha says softly, taking the necklace and closing it with ease.
“Thank you,” I say, my eyes watering as I feel the familiar weight on my chest again. It’s like Julia is back with me again, and I feel complete.
“I’m sorry I ever lost it,” Pasha replies.
I put my hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eyes. “No, Pasha, don’t be sorry. You didn’t know, and you went through hell to get it back for me.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
