Chapter 29

Lydia

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The days leading up to our wedding are filled with memories I don’t ever, ever want to forget.

Another cake sampling Viktor made me go to just because he wanted to. A bachelorette party with Aria, Harper, Polina, and Vera. Vera’s here until her next travel date, but I get to keep her for a few more weeks.

I get to pick out stuff for our bridal shower and have a lot of fun, especially with the kitchen things.

The dress fitting with Vera and Mom. I settled on a gorgeous wrap dress made of satin and trimmed with hand-knit lace. It dips low in the front, accentuating my full breasts and flowing over my curves. I feel like I’m a Disney princess who stepped right out of a movie set in it. My eyes sparkle in the mirror, and I grin.

“I love it. Oh my God, it’s perfect.”

I make Viktor practice dancing and take an engagement photo shoot. We don’t have a lot of time, but we have literally nothing on our agenda except the next big step: tie the knot.

We have personal, quiet moments together. Walking around our property, hand in hand, talking about where we’re going to honeymoon. Roasting marshmallows by our firepit, where I run our future children’s names by him until we have a suitable list.

It’s days before our wedding when I run something by him that I’ve been thinking about for a while.

Viktor leans back in his chair, nursing a beer. I’ve got one of the craft brews next to me on a little table near the fire pit. The ashes of the memory he took down from “the shrine,” as he called it, rise with the heat of the fire.

“So, I’ve been thinking…”

“Mmm?” he says. “What’s that?”

“Well. You know I want children. I know you do, too. But I’ve been thinking about your childhood and your sister, and… this money that I’m getting, and God knows your family has more money than God.” The wedding dress, the diamond ring he gave me, and a quick glance into the accounts we now own together made that abundantly clear. “You’re so protective. So good with the kids, Viktor. And your family is amazing.”

He looks at me curiously. “And?”

I swallow. For some reason, my heart is beating really fast right now. “What if we… you know… adopt? What if we adopt some kids that are in need of a good home?”

“Lydia,” he says seriously. “We’re Bratva.”

“Viktor,” I respond. “I mean, don’t show them your weapons.”

He grins at that. I love when he grins. My heart turns in my chest.

“We’ll be good parents. Just like Mikhail and Aria are. Harper and Aleks. And Vera and Nikko will be someday.”

“We will. Because we love each other, and we know what it’s like not to have that love.” I nod. We’ll lavish love and attention on whatever children we bring into our home. “And,” I say with a serious nod. “You’ll immediately beat your brothers in that race to see who has the most kids. Like you’ll advance right to the finish line.”

He snorts into his beer bottle, upends it, and polishes it off. “Now you’re talking. Perfect. Let’s look into it, baby.”

I nestle against his arm. “I have this feeling I could tell you I wanted to run a marathon, adopt an entire litter of puppies, sell this house and move into one of those RVs, or open up a mobile food truck bakery, and you’d smile at me and say yes.”

He holds me close to him and kisses the top of my head. “Of course I would. Though I don’t know if the entire litter of puppies and a mobile home at the same time is wise.”

I laugh along with him.

“I told you, Lydia,” he says quietly, his eyes growing soft, the flicker of flames reflected in his gaze. “I’ve only ever wanted you. And now you’re mine.” I bend and brush my lips against his. My heart swells, and I think, for the first time, I actually, truly, really believe him. I lie in his arms as he assures me one more time.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted and all I ever will.”

I lie in his arms, blissfully content. I don’t feel the need to run anymore. I don’t feel like I have to constantly look over my shoulder, waiting for the next wave of doubt or uncertainty to haunt me. His words mend my years of insecurity and heartache. My past no longer holds me in its grip.

As I nestle closer, I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat along with mine. “I’ve spent so much time running,” I whisper, “but now I feel like I can finally… stop. Like I’m finally home.”

His arms tighten around me. “We all have scars, Lydia,” he says. “But they don’t define us. They remind us of what we’ve fought and how we became who we are today.”

“I love you,” I whisper.

“And I love you.” He holds me.

We lie there before the fire, our pasts behind us and untold years ahead of us. I feel like, for the first time in my life… I’m happy. For the first time in my life, I’m free.