I shut the door and lean against it, exhaling.
I turn around to find Alexei moving toward me, backing me up against the door with his hand planted beside my head and the other slipping under my robe to grab my hip.
“That,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing my ear, “is the third time this week.”
“He’s three. He doesn’t understand—”
“He understands that every time he interrupts, I don’t get to finish.” His grip tightens. “You owe me, solnyshko.”
“After my exam,” I whisper. “I promise.”
He bites down on my neck, just hard enough to make me gasp. “You better keep that promise.”
“I will.”
“Good.” He steps back, eyes black with need. “Because when that exam is over, I’m locking you in a room with me and not letting you out until I’ve fucked every coherent thought out of your head.”
Heat pools low in my belly. “Alexei—”
“Go get ready.” He steps back, adjusting himself with a wince. “Before I change my mind and lock the door.”
The park is busier than I expected.
Families spread across the grass. Kids run toward the playground. A few joggers pass by on the path. Anya and I sit on a bench near the swings, watching Yuri and Misha chase each other around the slide.
I spot Taras standing near the trees with Alexei. Both of them have their phones out, deep in conversation. Whatever they’re discussing looks serious. Taras gestures with one hand while Alexei’s posture remains tense.
“How’s the panic level?” Anya asks with a knowing smile.
“Through the roof,” I admit, “but I’m so close to being done I can taste it.”
She laughs. “I still can’t believe you did all this with Yuri running around, that’s insane.”
“Tell me about it.”
Yuri makes it to the top of the slide and starts waving at me with both hands, so I wave back with a smile.
“He’s gotten so big,” Anya says. “I remember when you first brought him here. He could barely walk.”
“I know.” My chest tightens. “Sometimes I look at him and I can’t believe he’s mine.”
“You’re a good mom, Zoya.”
“I’m trying.”
She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You’re doing more than trying. You’re amazing. And I’m so sorry I missed his birth. I wanted to be there for you.”
“Anya, you don’t have to keep apologizing—”
“I do, though.” Her expression softens. “You were pregnant and dealing with everything alone and I just disappeared. My mom died and I had to go back to Germany and everything fell apart. I stopped answering your calls. I stopped texting. I just couldn’t handle talking to anyone.”
“I know,” I say gently. “Taras told Alexei what happened. That’s the only way I knew you were okay. I wanted to reach out but Alexei said Taras thought you needed space.”
“I did need space,” she admits. “But I still feel terrible that I wasn’t there when you had Yuri. You needed me and I was in Germany dealing with my mom’s funeral and I just… I couldn’t be there.”
“Hey.” I squeeze her hand back. “You were grieving. You don’t have to apologize for that. What matters is that you’re here now.”
She smiles, her eyes a little wet. “Thank you.”