Page 40 of Hostage with Benefits'
“I keep thinking this can't be real,” he said into my hair. “That I'll wake up and you'll be gone. That none of this happened.”
“If this is a dream, we're having the same one.” I covered his hand with mine.
His hand moved in gentle circles over the small swell where our child grew. “Are you happy, Natalia? Truly?”
The question was earnest, vulnerable in a way only I got to see. I turned in his arms to face him, finding his eyes in the dim light.
“Yes,” I said simply. “Against all logic and reason, yes.”
“You know,our child is going to be spoiled rotten, yeah?” I murmured a few minutes later.
“Our child,” he repeated.
“Our son or daughter,” I murmured. “Fifty-fifty chance.”
“A daughter would be perfect. I’d be surrounded by the two most beautiful women in the world. What a blessing.”
As I drifted off, I couldn't help but reflect on the absurdity of my life's trajectory. One year ago, I'd been kidnapped from a Trader Joe's parking lot. Now I was pregnant and married to my kidnapper.
My therapist had eventually fired me as a client, claiming my “persistent romanticization of a clearly Stockholm syndrome situation” was beyond her professional capabilities. Galina cackled for five straight minutes when I told her.
But as I fell asleep in my husband's arms, pregnant with our child, I couldn't help but be grateful for how everything turned out.
the end.
But the story isn't over yet...
