It’s been the same this past almost-month, moment upon moment of love cascading to form a freaking waterfall of emotion, each day brighter than the last.
I glance outside the kitchen room window and watch as Rocky carries his ball back to his self-throwing device, my smile irrepressible.
“Are you okay, Anna?” Artem asks.
“Okay?” I giggle, shooting him a look. “That’s probably the biggest understatement in the history of understatements. I’m about a million rungs above okay, Artem.”
“Then you’re hiding something,” he murmurs, a smile on his lips, smiles which have come far more freely since we’ve settled into the beauty of our everyday lives.
“Don’t pretend you can read me,” I say, pouting, knowing full well that he can read me.
He can read me like a book.
Because he’s my man and of course he can.
“Have you finished your dinner yet?” I ask.
He chuckles, glancing down at his half-eaten fish and his vegetables, a large portion of which are still remaining.
“Are we involved in some sort of race I wasn’t made aware of?”
“It’s just, I’d really like you to go to the refrigerator and get the dessert out. I mean, I know it sounds crazy, but I’d really like you to do that right now. Because thinking about it – the dessert – it’s sort of driving me insane. I think I’ll explode if you don’t do it right this second.”
He grins, reaching across the table and smoothing his thumb across my lower lip, an indulgent grin lighting up his face.
“You are up to something,” he says. “But fine, yes, I’ll play along. This better be one special dessert.”
“I hope so,” I whisper, nerves dancing, wondering if this is silly.
If this is, in fact, probably the worst possible way I could do this.
Artem stands and walks over to the refrigerator. When he opens it, the yellow light bathes him. I watch as he begins to tremble slightly, his whole body.
He reaches inside and takes out the paper towel, squeezing it and what’s on top delicately in his fist, turning and facing me with happiness trying to bloom in his intense brown eyes.
But it won’t, not yet, not until he knows if this is true.
“Is this what I think it is?” he whispers.
I stand up and walk over to him, tears pricking my eyes and sliding down my cheeks, tears making my cheeks warm, so warm I feel like there’s a sun inside of me, glowing, infusing every part of me with life-giving heat.
“Yes,” I whisper. “It’s a pregnancy test, Artem. And it’s positive. It’s positive. We’re going to have a baby.”
These past few weeks have seen a new side of Artem emerge, a more fun-loving side, an aspect of him that smiles more readily.
But when I tell him this news, his smile is almost boyish, pure joy lighting up his features as his eyes glimmer and he lets out a roar of victory, a roar of love, of pure freaking love.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he roars, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me up off my feet.
He spins me around and around.
I giggle and clasp tightly to him, knowing he won’t let me go, knowing he’ll bring me safely back down no matter how high and for how long we fly.
Always.
“I love you so much,” he says, kissing my cheek, getting closer to my lips with each contact. “And our baby, I’ll love them so much, too. I’m the happiest man alive, Anna.”
I wipe tears from my cheeks and nuzzle into him, certain I can already feel our baby shifting around inside of me, eager to come out into the world and meet us.
Extended Epilogue
One Year Later
Artem
I cradle Aurora to my chest as I walk up the wide stone path to the culinary school, the sun shining warmly today, but not too warmly that it will do Aurora any harm. In any case, I make sure to give her all the attention she deserves, my little bundle, my smiling princess with her beautiful sleeping face resting against my torso.
“How do you think Mommy’s first day went?” I ask, walking past students, not giving a damn if any of them want to look my way and judge me for being so openly emotional.
Fuck no.
Those days of trying to beat down this heat inside of me are long gone.
I walk to the fountain where Anna asked me to meet her after class and sit down on the edge, bobbing Aurora up and down softly the way she likes, the way that helps her sleep, as Rocky sits at my feet and watches the students pass with his head cocked, as if daring them to try to do any harm to his pack.
I reach down and ruffle the terrier behind the ears, smiling when his mouth opens and his tongue comes lolling out.
“How do you think she did, huh?” I ask, both my daughter and my loyal friend. “I know, I know, amazing. I knew you’d say that.”