Nikolai Callahan, my husband. I’ll never get tired of thinking that.
He skates over, pulling off his helmet with a grin. His hair flops over his forehead, eyes dancing with warmth.
I practically swoon. Six years together, going on seven, and he still gives me butterflies. If there wasn’t glass separating us, I’d have jumped into his arms the moment he got close enough. He looked great in teal, but dark blue isn’t half bad, either.
“Hey,” I say, pressing as close as I can, anyway. “You ready?”
“I’m always ready. Everything good in the box?”
“Yeah. Luke wanted to see his dad.”
We look over. Cooper’s in the middle of playing peekaboo with Lukas, who giggles wildly, trying to grab him through the glass.
“Is Daddy marching into battle?” Penny says, bouncing him on her hip. “Is he going to defeat the evil Bruins?”
“I’m looking forward to that,” Nik says.
“Oh,” I say softly. I nearly press a hand to my stomach, but manage to contain myself. I shouldn’t tell him here. He’ll be distracted for the game, and that’s the last thing he needs on opening night.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he adds, his smile taking on a teasing edge.
I hesitate, twisting my wedding ring around my finger.
“Everything okay?”
“It’s just—I guess we need to be ready,” I say in Russian. I’m not fully fluent, but I’ve worked at it long and hard enough that we can hold whole conversations in the language.
I’m sure he’ll want to teach our child how to speak it, too. The thought of that fills me with joy. We haven’t been to Russia yet, but maybe one day. There’s always hope for a more peaceful future.
It takes a split second for it to sink in. “You’re serious?”
“I took five different tests to make sure.”
“You’re pregnant.” His voice drops, taking on a rough edge. He clears his throat. “Isabelle, you’re really pregnant?”
At my nod, he smiles, so widely it takes my breath away.
“Yes,” I whisper, crowding even closer. I press my palm to the glass, and he does the same with his gloved hand.
“Are you okay? Do you feel good?”
I nod tearfully. I knew he’d be happy; we’ve spoken enough about it that we’re certain it’s something we both want, but all the same, this is unexpected. “Do you feel good?”
“I’m scared,” he admits. “Scared, but excited.”
“You’re going to be a wonderful father.” My heart soars at the truth in those words. If there’s anything I’m certain about, it’s that. He has spent so much time working on himself, for us, and hasn’t wavered from my side since that morning at James and Bex’s wedding. “You deserve this, Kolya.”
“You’re the only one I’d ever want to do it with,” he murmurs. “I can’t wait.”
“I love you,” I whisper back. “Ya lyublyu tebya.”
That phrase he taught me so long ago, back when we were just starting to imagine our shared future.
Even though the game is starting soon, he leaves the ice, wrapping me in his embrace. Gently. Carefully. His kiss lingers; his hand cradles my belly. When we finally break it off, tears glint in his calm, reassuring eyes.
There’s so much love and joy in his expression, it shines through like gold. I blink away my own tears as my vision blurs.
After all, I don’t want to miss a single moment of our forever.
