Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Maksim

Istand in the doorway, watching Abby and the nannies fuss over our four beautiful babies. My heart swells with a love I never knew existed. How did I get so lucky? Four perfect little versions of us, all bundled up in soft blankets. Two boys and two girls—Alexander and Owen, and Sofia and Olga.

I’d asked Abby about their names—Owen was clearly named after her brother, but his siblings have names that could be Russian. She told me that she wanted them to have some link to my heritage. When we first met I used the name Alec. I could never use my real name, and doing charitable work under my childhood friend Sasha’s name seems an appropriate way to keep him alive. It warms my heart that his memory will live on through my son Alexander, my own little Sasha.

“Careful with Sofia’s head,” I remind one of the nannies gently, my voice barely above a whisper. They’re fragile, these tiny beings, and I can’t help but worry for their safety.

“Of course, Mr. Maks,” she replies, adjusting her hold on the baby.

I nod, satisfied.

Maggie and the nannies will be gone soon, and then it’ll be up to Abby, me, and my housekeeper to look after the four perfect little bundles. “Need a hand?” I ask Abby as she struggles to swaddle little Owen.

“Please,” she says with a tired smile. I carefully take him from her as she wraps the blanket around him. “Thanks. I should be a pro by now, but it’s easier with an extra set of hands.”

“No problem. I guess I’d better start learning how to do some of this stuff, too,” I say, placing a gentle kiss on Owen’s forehead before handing him back to her.

Abby smiles up at me, cradling Owen against her chest. She moves on to tending to the other babies while I watch quietly. Our children are the perfect mix of her and me—they have her beautiful blue eyes, but there’s no denying the resemblance to me and my family.

“Hey, Maks?” Abby’s voice is soft, almost hesitant.

“Yeah?” I turn to face her, trying to read the emotions behind her words.

“Could you grab that stuffed bear Maggie brought over? Olga wants it.”

Her request seems simple, but as I reach for the bear, a rush of nostalgia washes over me. The fluffy toy feels familiar in my hands, and suddenly, I’m transported back in time, to a dusty carnival where a younger version of myself won a similar stuffed bear for my little sister. The memories flood in, and for a moment, I’m back there, reliving that cherished moment.

“Sure thing,” I manage to reply, trying to hide the wave of emotions that threatens to overwhelm me. I pass the bear to her, trying to focus on the present moment, but the past clings to me like a shadow.

As Abby takes the bear and gives it to Olga, who clutches it tightly in her tiny hands, I watch them and hold back a wistful sigh for days that are long gone. Days that won’t be coming back. The sight tugs at my heartstrings, reminding me of a time when family and love meant everything. Abby seems oblivious to the sudden shift in my demeanor, and I force a smile, not wanting to dampen the joyous atmosphere.

It’s funny how a simple stuffed bear can evoke such strong feelings, making me realize just how much I cherish these moments with my newfound family. The years have passed, and I’ve come a long way since that teenage boy at the carnival, but the joy on my sister’s face when I gifted her that bear remains etched in my memory.

As I watch our little family, a mix of emotions swirl within me. Gratitude for having found them, protectiveness over Abby and the babies, and a tinge of sadness for the time I’ve already missed.