"Lyah," I say softly, my voice catching in my throat.
She turns, her eyes meeting mine, clear and unworried, like she’s not about to run out on me.
"Nikolai," she replies, her tone completely neutral. "I didn't expect you home so early."
Did she plan to sneak out while I was gone?
I take a step closer, my eyes scanning her from head to toe. “Dr. Zelensky called…”
"Ah," she interrupts, turning back to her clothes. “You needn’t have interrupted your plans. Everything is fine.”
“What are you doing, Emylyah?” I ask instead of responding. She shrugs carelessly. “I’m just having a clear out. With the pregnancy, then baby days followed by running after a toddler, I need a more practical wardrobe.”
So she’s not leaving me then? Everything inside me relaxes, but only for a moment. The relief is quickly replaced by a new tension as she continues.
“And while I’m thinking of the future, we need to talk,” she tells me in no uncertain terms.
For no good reason, my heart starts to pound. "Talk about what?" I manage to ask, keeping my voice as steady as possible.
Lyah turns to face me fully, her eyes meeting mine with a determination I've rarely seen. "About us. About the life we're currently living. And about the kind of future I want for our child."
I notice she says I instead of we, and alarm bells go off in my brain.
The tension in the room thickens, and I feel my defenses rising. "What about our life?" I ask, my tone sharper than intended.
Lyah takes a deep breath, her hands resting protectively over her belly. "I can't do this anymore, Niko. This cold, detached existence. The emotional insecurity. I won't bring our child into a home devoid of love and warmth. It’s a matter of weeks since you told me you didn’t even want this baby, and while you might have changed your mind, I haven’t seen much evidence that you really feel that way.”
Her words hit me like a physical blow, and I struggle to keep my composure, my fists clenching at my sides. I want to argue, to tell her she's wrong, but the truth of it stings.
"What are you saying?" I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
Lyah's eyes soften slightly, but her resolve remains firm. "I'm saying you have a choice to make, Nikolai. If you can't be the husband and father we need - truly present, truly caring, truly faithful - then let us go. I'll raise this child on my own, away from all of this." She gestures around the opulent room. "I won't ask anything of you. We'll disappear, start fresh somewhere, and you can take another wife, maybe someone like Catriona Smith. You'll never have to worry about us again."
Her words send ice through my veins. The thought of Lyah and our child vanishing from my life is unbearable. A life without them feels hollow, meaningless. The walls I've attempted to rebuild around my emotions begin to crumble again.
"No," I choke out, my voice raw with emotion I can no longer suppress. "I don't want you to go. I don’t want anyone else."
Lyah's eyes widen in surprise, and I take a step closer, fighting the urge to pull her into my arms.
“Then answer me one question, and be truthful about it,” she says, leaning back to look me in the eye. I know she’s about to judge my honesty and my response might be what seals our fate. “Are you now, or have you ever slept with Catriona… or anyone else for that matter?”
My eyes widen in shock. This is not what I was expecting. “Lyah, I have never been unfaithful to you. Regardless of my behavior, I take our vows seriously, and I always will. Please believe me.” Now it’s her turn to look surprised, but I can see the cynicism in her eyes, too, so I do the only thing I think will convince her. Dropping to my knees, I cup her growing belly and drop a kiss where my son is nestled in her womb, before looking up at her. “I swear, on our baby’s life, Lyah, that’s the god’s honest truth.”
Tears glaze her eyes, and she sucks in a breath as I climb to my feet, but I know I owe her more.
"I know I've been distant, cold even," I admit, the words tumbling out. "But it's not because I don't care. If anything, I care too much. Caring makes a man vulnerable in this world, and I’ve done my damndest to make certain that can’t happen to me again.”
Ghostly images of Agnieszka float in front of my eyes. How full of life she was and the dreadful things that were done to her before what could only have been a merciful death. A refuge from the abuse and torture she suffered.
“I had a sister…” I begin, not even knowing I was planning to tell the story I’ve done my best to bury over the years until the words are out of my mouth.
Lyah looks distraught. “I… I didn’t know,” she murmurs, looking truly devastated. “There’s no sign…”
“Technically, she was my half-sister,” I admit, not that I ever thought of her that way. She may have been my father’s indiscretion, but to both Darian and I she was family. “My father had an affair with her mother. It was mostly kept quiet, but when Darian and I found out, we wanted to know her.”
The familiar guilt washes over me, deep and piercing. Our father’s distance had kept Agnieszka safe, but our involvement with our sister let the cat out of the bag, and we were too young and stupid to understand the consequences.
No, that’s not strictly true. We truly thought Agnieszka was protected…
