“I brought a book,” Nikolai said. “If you want to read to me, like you did with the journal.”
He nodded toward a little basket he’d stowed beneath the bench. Nadia opened it up, finding a copy ofAnna Kareninasitting on top of a folded blanket.
“I figured you’re right,” Nikolai said. “I don’t have to be a fraud if I don’t want to be.”
“I can’t read very fast yet,” Nadia warned him, opening up to the first page and seeing it was in Cyrillic.
“It’s alright,” he said. “I just want to hear your voice.”
Nadia was relieved to find that all her translation had paid off: she could read smoothly enough, if not very quickly.
“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way...”
She read to Nikolai for over an hour as he rowed all around the large pond. He took them to the far end of the water, under the overhanging boughs of a stand of willow trees, then along the arc of the farthest edge, and back to the middle once more. The late afternoon sunshine was warm, and his white t-shirt was soon transparent with sweat. She could see the vast slabs of muscle flexing and straining on his chest and shoulders with each pull of the oars, and she could even see the outline of the snarling wolf through his shirt.
The sun was sinking so low that it was getting harder to read the fine print on the page. She put the book aside and saw that the sky had become streaked with layers of orange and purple.
“Look at that!” she said. “The sunset never looks that brilliant in the city.”
Nikolai set the oars into their locks. The boat drifted in the middle of the pond. He brought the basket out from under the seat and opened up two bottles of Russian beer, fizzy and mild.
“Cheers,” he said.
They clinked the bottles and sipped their drinks as the last of the sunlight faded. Little lights began to blink into existence over the water, floating upward as the sky grew ever darker.
“Are those...fireflies?” Nadia asked.
She’d never seen them in real life before.
It was enchanting, the way they floated and bobbed above their own twin reflected light on the surface of the water. It made it seem as if the water was transparent, and the boat floated on a sea of light above and below.
Nadia was so distracted by this otherworldly sight that she hadn’t noticed Nikolai moving off his bench, closer to her. When she turned toward him to exclaim over the beauty of the fireflies, she saw him kneeling in front of her, taking her hand into his.
“Nadia,” he said. “These past few weeks with you have been a dream. And I never want to wake up. From the moment I saw you, I was completely, irrevocably in love with you. I know it’s insane. I know I should wait to tell you this. But I can’t. I can’t pretend a moment longer. I want you for my wife.”
He took out a little box and opened it up. Inside she saw a slim gold band, beautifully worked in delicate filigree. Its open-work gold put her in mind of vines and leaves, and the setting enclosed a single oval-shaped, deep red stone, the color of rich, dark pomegranate.
She had never seen anything quite like it. The stone seemed to throb with color and intensity. By comparison, a simple diamond would have seemed pale and bleached. The ruby was a live thing. Red like passion. Red like blood. Red like a beating heart.
Before she could say anything at all, Nikolai took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. It fit perfectly, as light and delicate as if it had been made for her.
“Will you marry me?” Nikolai asked.
His face had never looked more handsome than in that moment—his dark blue eyes looking up at her, his expression a mix of nervousness and hope.
He was right—it was insane. And rushed. And beyond reason.
But it was also what she wanted more than anything.
“Yes,” Nadia said. “Yes!”
Nikolai looked phenomenally happy. He swept her up in his arms so hard that he almost overturned the boat. He crushed her against him, kissing her again and again.
* * *
26
Nadia
