57. April

57

APRIL

By the time we get to the hospital, I've already run through every possible worst case scenario in my head. And I mean every scenario.

What if I stressed the baby out too much? What if this is the fetal distress Dr. Allan's been talking about? Worse, what if she was right ?

What was I thinking, keeping my baby inside me for so long?

The only thing keeping me from a full-blown panic attack is Matvey, his grip tight on my hand the whole way.

When the doctors finally whisk me away for tests, I feel Matvey's hand give mine one last squeeze, as if reluctant to let go. "I'll be right here."

Boyfriend. That's what the on-site medic called him earlier. My boyfriend.

And Matvey didn't say no.

I tell myself it was just a matter of convenience. As the doctors poke and prod at me, I repeat it in my head like a mantra: Matvey didn't mean it.

But then why did he call me "family," too?

There's a lot of things I could picture Matvey bending the truth about: his business, our relationship or the feelings he pretends he doesn't have.

But family's sacred to him. He'd never lie about that.

So does that mean…?

I distract myself with those thoughts for as long as I can. But when the pain in my abdomen finally subsides, my fears roar back to life, amplified tenfold.

When I find Matvey again in the waiting room, I can't hold it back anymore: I bury my face in his chest and break down.

"What if it's too late?" I sob, fat tears rolling down my cheeks. "What if it's all my fault?"

"It's not," Matvey rasps into my ear. "It'll never be your fault, April."

The way he says it, it's almost like he's claiming that responsibility for himself.

But I don't want that. If this is where it ends for the three of us, I don't want Matvey to carry that guilt. I don't want him to do it alone.

"Why did you call off the wedding…?" I mumble out, unable to keep it in any longer. "Why didn't you marry Petra?"

Matvey's breath halts. His chest stills under my cheek. In response, my heart starts hammering, as if beating for the both of us.

And then, just as Matvey's lips are parting around an answer, Dr. Allan walks in.

"Good news," she says briskly. "Your baby's perfectly healthy. What you just experienced was Braxton-Hicks. It's a common false alarm."

It's like the weight of the world has fallen off my shoulders. Dr. Allan is still talking, but my head's ringing, a single sentence playing in a loop:

My baby's okay. My baby's okay. My baby's okay.

I don't realize I'm falling until Matvey catches me. "Are you alright, April?"

"Sorry," I breathe. His hands are strong around me, warm and firm. Safe. "I just… got dizzy for a second there."

Matvey nods. "Dr. Allan, please continue."

Dr. Allan taps her clipboard with her pen. "As I was saying, the pregnancy has gone on beyond what it's considered safe. I try to respect the mother's wishes as much as possible, but in this case, I'm afraid that's no longer advisable."

I swallow. "So you're saying…?"

"We have to induce," Dr. Allan cuts short. "By the end of the week."

I let that word sink in. Induce. It's enough to make a chill go through me.

Images crowd my head: my mother, lying in a pool of blood. Charlie, his newborn skin nearly purple as he was dragged into the world with barely a breath left in him. Me, small and powerless and alone.

But it's different now. I'm not that terrified kid anymore. I'm not powerless.

And I'm not alone anymore, either.

"April was very clear, Doctor," I hear Matvey argue on my behalf. "Inducing is out of the question. If there really is nothing wrong with the baby?—"

"It's okay."

Matvey turns to me. "You don't have to go along with this."

"I do," I reply. "Dr. Allan's right. It's time."

Then I give Matvey's hand a reassuring squeeze. "It'll be fine," I tell him, or maybe I'm talking to myself. Maybe, all along, it wasn't Nugget who wasn't ready. It was me . "By the end of the week, we'll get to meet our baby. Isn't that amazing?"

Matvey's expression softens. "Then we have a lot to prepare."

"I'll call to set the date." Dr. Allan smiles. "For now, go home and rest, April. No more unnecessary efforts."

"No more," I promise.

In the parking lot, we find Grisha waiting for us. "Ms. Flowers," he greets.

Then I realize he isn't alone.

"April!"

June comes hurtling out of the car like a bullet. She crashes into me, but gently, without once touching my belly. "Jesus Christ, Apes, you almost killed me with worry!"

"Sorry," I mumble. "If it helps, you didn't miss much. This year's pieces were very boring."

"Missed your Ocean's 8 moment, by the sound of it," June sniffles in my hair.

I can't believe it. I just finished crying. And yet, with June here in my arms, trembling with fear at the thought of something happening to me and Nugget…

It's useless. The floodgates burst open again, and I can't do a thing to stop them. "I'm sorry," I mumble again, holding my best friend tight.

"I bet you are. Don't ever scare me like that again. I mean it." Then she turns to Matvey. "You kept your promise, Baby Daddy."

Matvey clears his throat, somewhat uncomfortable. "I always keep my promises."

Something warm spreads into my chest then. Because I realize, with sudden clarity, the one thing that truly matters:

This time, Matvey came for me.

We drop June off at the Brooklyn apartment and head back to the penthouse. All the way there, Matvey treats me as if I'm made of glass. It's… new. Endearing, in a way.

But when he goes so far as to try to help me out of my shoes, I shake my head and laugh. "It's okay, Matvey. I can do that."

Matvey levels me with a look. "You heard Dr. Allan. No unnecessary efforts."

Then he slips off my kitten heels.

His movements are careful. Gentle. Once again, I'm stunned at the sight of this man—this powerful man with thousands of men and billions of dollars at his command—treating me like I'm something precious. Something that shouldn't be so far as nicked, let alone broken.

It's the first time anyone's treated me like that.

A yawn escapes me. After this hellish day, my exhaustion is finally catching up.

"Lie down," Matvey barks. From his mouth, everything sounds like an order. "I'll get you some water."

"No," I whine, catching the edge of his sleeve. "Stay."

Suddenly, I remember what happened the last time I did this. How quickly Matvey left the room the second that word slipped out of my mouth.

"Sorry," I hurry to say. "I?—"

"Alright."

Without another word, Matvey lies down next to me.

For a long time, we just lie there, facing each other. Me, Matvey, and our baby in between. Matvey's fingers come up to my hair, stroking in slow drags. Before long, my eyelids grow heavy again.

As I drift off to sleep, I wonder to myself where this Matvey has been all this time.

And I think, heartbeat slowing to a crawl, that I wouldn't mind if he really did stay.

Forever.