Alexei isnât there when I wake up.
I know it shouldnât bother me. Thereâs nothing to worry about. Not really.
But after last night, his absence makes me feel just a little confused, and really, really nervous.
I roll over in bed. My first instinct is to text him and ask him where he is, but I pause on that.
I donât want to be a clingy, needy wife.
We havenât established communication for things like absences yet. I know that he said at some point in the last few weeks that he did most of his work in Novgorod, but surely he would have told me that he was going back there before he left.
And, itâs Christmas morning.
He wouldnât leave on Christmas morning.
Right?
Unless heâs pissed at you for last night.
I huff out a long breath.
Okay. I did cut him off on purpose last night. He was so sweet, and I know that he wanted to tell me that he loved me.
But the same reservation that I had about it popped into my mind.
Itâs too soon to love him.
I didnât want him to tell me that he loved me. Not yet.
Because if he tells me too soon, it might not be real.
However, it did kind of ruin the moment. Even after we had sex, which was great like it always is, he still seemed⦠distant.
Did he though?
I flop my arms in frustration. Alexei is a really sweet man. I honestly canât really decide if he was actually distant, or if I just made it up because I was nervous about him seeming distant.
This is why youâre never supposed to therapize yourself, Mags.
Bleh.
I lean up. I should go look for him, but I am kind of hurt.
Alexei knows how important Christmas is to me. The fact that heâs not here right now, and he didnât leave a note?
It kind of sucks.
This is why itâs too soon to say you love each other, dummy. You donât even really know him.
That thought settles like lead in my chest.
Itâs true, though. The past couple of weeks have been great, but they donât really mean anything. You donât know someone until you see them live their life, after all. And, even then, sometimes you can never really know someone.
And that makes me feel suddenly, and intensely, lonely.
I resolve to make the best of this situation. Itâs Christmas, and no matter what Alexei is doing, Iâm going to have a good day.
Elena is off today. She told me that sheâs spending the day with a niece in Moscow. The other staff are not necessarily required to attend.
So itâs just me.
Alone.
In Orlov House.
The loneliness is back, punching me down like bread dough.
I swallow back my disappointment, and instead decide to take a shower.
I do my best to keep my mind in the present and try to enjoy the hot shower spray against my skin, but I canât help it. My mind wanders a little, because every shower Iâve had for the past few weeks has either been with Alexei, or in view of him.
Or because of him, in a couple of remarkably sticky situations.
Heâs coming back. Itâs okay, you just donât know him very well. Heâs probably been called away to work or something.
It doesnât matter how often I tell myself the words, Iâm still trying to say them to cover up the anxiety thatâs coursing through me.
Breakfast is lonely. The house creaks and groans, but other than that, the silence feels deafening.
I kind of feel like Iâm hearing things. Voices. Sounds.
So when the front door opensâ a creaking, shattering soundâ for a minute Iâm not certain that itâs real.
Until I hear voices, actual human voices, as well.
I nearly stumble over my feet as I run down to the main entryway.
Breathless, I slide around the corner. âAlexei?â I pant.
There are three people in the doorway.
Alexei.
A shape that it takes a second for me to register as my father.
Andâ¦
My mother.
Iâm not sure why, but the second I see her, I burst into tears.
The propensity is clearly genetic, because she does the same. We collide, crashing into each other, and we slide to the floor, sobbing.
Behind her, I hear Alexei mutter something to my father in Russian. I really should learn the language, but I wouldnât be able to figure it out now even if I tried.
My mother is here.
In my arms. In the foyer of Orlov House.
And Iâve never been happier.
Eventually, we manage to pull ourselves together. I wipe my eyes and look at them. âWhat the heck? How are you here?â
My mother and⦠father (again, itâs kind of weird to describe him as that, but he technically did contribute the genetic material that makes him my biological father) exchange a look.
A very intimate, somewhat telling look.
âHow about you and I go talk for a second, baby?â my mom says with a smile.
I glance at Alexei, but heâs looking away from me.
My heart sinks.
âOkay, um. Thanks, mom. And uhâ¦dad,â I say.
I canât believe that I said it.
I donât think he can either. His eyes go wide, and he looks at my mom like heâs asking for permission.
Her little nod gives me a lot of questions.
âCome on, mom. Let me show you around,â I whisper.
I grab my momâs hand. We walk down the hall.
Itâs time to figure out whatâs going on.
âOkay so. Spill.â
We manage to make it to the kitchen, but beyond that, nothing yet. I hand my mom a cookie, and she bites into it.
âOh honey. These are way better than mine!â
âSo not the point, mom.â
My mom sighs. âOkay. Well. Where do you want to start?â
âWhat are you doing here?â
She waves a hand. âOh, thatâs easy. Your husband contacted your father and asked for us to come for Christmas.â
âAnd you⦠just⦠you said yes?â
âWell of course. Why wouldnât we?â
I pause.
My mom stares at me for a minute longer, then understanding dawns. âOh. Thatâs what youâre worried about.â
âWhat?â
âYou like him. A lot.â
âIâ¦â
She waves a hand. âI gave birth to you, Magdalena. I know that face. You really like him. I think you probably love him. But you, for some reason, are keeping yourself from admitting it.â
âI am not.â
Laughing, she walks around the island and pulls me into a hug. âYou, my love, have the same look on your face as you did whenever you picked me up a cake from the bakery. You absolutely want to eat all of it, but you know that you shouldnât.â
I sigh. âMom. Itâs just not logical. I mean, do I feel a lot for him right now? Yes, but it canât be what I think it is becauseâ ââ
âYou love him, sweetheart. You donât have to hide it from me.â
I think I know what Iâm going to do for my masterâs thesis. Because someone needs to study the phenomenon of what happens to a person when their mom says, out loud, the thing that theyâve been trying to hide from themselves.
Bursting into tears, I bury my head in her shoulder. âI canât love him,â I say, gasping around the tears that are pouring out of me. âI havenât been around him enough to love him.â
âSweetheart. Love isnât logical. It doesnât always mean youâve been with someone for their whole life,â my mom gently pats my back. âI mean, I fell in love with your dad that night.â
âAnd he left you!â
Wow.
That brings on a whole new wave of tears.
Eventually, I calm down a little. I wipe my eyes and pull back, bringing in deep, shuddering breaths.
My momâs eyes are wet too.
âHe did leave us, baby. But he also didnât. He tried to stay, but he couldnât. They would have found us a lot earlier and tried to kill us, and I didnât have a snowballâs chance in hell of surviving them with a baby on my hip. He did what he did to keep us alive, and nowâ¦â
âYou forgive him?â I ask.
It comes out as more of an accusation than I meant, and my momâs face pales.
I sigh. âMomâ¦â
âI donât know if I fully forgive him. I think that thereâs been a lot of time, and a lot of space, that he could have probably figured out a better solution. Twenty-three years is a long time, and I wish he had stepped in sooner,â she whispers.
âAmen,â I snort.
My momâs lips curl up. âBut, the past few weeks, Iâve remembered a lot about your dad. Including the fact that I like him. A lot. And I loved him the second I laid eyes on him a little over twenty-three years ago.â
âHow?â I whisper.
She shrugs. âIâm not sure, baby. But all of that came roaring back as soon as we started talking again, and Iâm not going to deny those feelings.â
I look to the side, refusing to acknowledge her slight jab.
âAlexei is a good man. He asked me to come here for you. He wants you to be happy, baby. His reputation is practically made of platinum. I get feelings about people, you know this, and I have a good feeling about this one.â
I nibble my lip. âBut what if he has to⦠leave. Like dad?â
She shrugs. âThen youâll come live with me. But I have a feeling that your life with Alexei Orlov is going to be just a little different than your dadâs life, my love.â
âWhy?â
My mom sighs, then gestures wildly to the house. âThis is not the type of house that a man has when heâs under any kind of threat.â
âItâs been in his family for like⦠hundreds of years.â
She makes an exaggerated face. âNo. You donât say.â
I shove her lightly on the shoulder. âAlso, heâs kind of a prince.â
âYour dad told me that. I also mentioned that youâve been a princess for as long as Iâve known you, so itâs kind of fitting.â
I laugh, glad that the tears feel like theyâre behind me.
âMaggie?â
I look up, smiling at my mom.
She takes my face in her hands. I lean in, relishing the feeling of her soft palms on my cheeks. I close my eyes, just sitting and enjoying the fact that sheâs here. Sheâs safe.
And sheâs with me.
âI think itâs time that you ditch the whole princess thing.â
My eyes pop open. âWhat? Why?â
My momâs mouth curls into a smile.
âBecause I think Alexei is ready to treat you like a queen.â
Mom and I wander back to the main living room, where Alexei and my dad are softly conversing in Russian. When we walk into the room, my dadâs whole body changes. His eyes light up when he looks at my mom, and when he looks at me?
Thereâs something like hope there.
âThis house is freaking incredible,â my mom says. âDonât you want a tour, love?â
My dad looks somewhat stern, his eyes bouncing between Alexei and me. âIâ¦â
âCome with me. Now. I think I can even find our room,â my mom mutters.
Finally taking the hint, my dad allows himself to be dragged from the room.
Leaving Alexei and I, standing in front of the Christmas tree.
For some reason, this feelsâ¦
Awkward.
I glance up at Alexei, who is studying me.
Where do I start? Do I say that Iâm sorry for doubting him? Sorry for cutting him off? Do I thank him for getting my parents? Do Iâ¦
âIâm sorry I left without telling you,â he says.
I tilt my head.
âThere was some issue with customs. Anatoly texted me, and I needed to leave to solve the problem.â
âIs everything okay?â I whisper.
He nods. âYour fatherâs visa was old. However, it was nothing that I couldnât fix.â
My lips curl. âThe bigger monster.â
âIn this case, just the richer one.â
I notice that he still seemsâ¦
Distant.
Well.
Here goes.
I take a deep breath. âLook, about last night. I wanted to tell you that Iâmâ ââ
Alexei puts his finger over my lips, and I pause.
âWait. Just⦠Waitâ¦â he whispers.
Uh.
Okay?
I freeze.
Alexei runs around the Christmas tree. He pulls one of the lower branches aside and grabs a little wrapped package.
My heart starts to beat faster, and he brings me the box.
âHere,â he says.
âAlexi. I didnât get you anythingâ ââ
âPlease, milaya,â he whispers. âOpen it.â
Silently, I grab the box. My hands shake as I tug at the wrapping. He used a really beautiful red paper thatâs shot through with strands of curling silver.
âDid you wrap this yourself?â
Alexeiâs mouth tilts into a grin, and some of the playful man that Iâve come to love over the last few weeks is there again.
The sight gives me hope.
âYou definitely did a pretty good job with it,â I murmur as I continue to struggle with the wrapping. Eventually, though, I manage to get it off, and it falls onto the floor.
The box is small.
But I kind of recognize it.
I mean. Not this specific box.
But I know what boxes that look like this mean.
Hands shaking, I pull the box open.
I canât help the gasp that emerges when I finally see the contents.
My eyes snap up to Alexeiâs. âAlexeiâ¦. Iâ¦I donâtâ¦â
âDo you like them?â
That makes me squeeze out a small, nervous giggle.
Like them?
Sitting in the box are two of the most beautiful rings that Iâve ever seen in my life. One is an engagement ring thatâs literally the size of a chunk of ice. The diamond in the middle is a pale, ice-blue, and itâs surrounded by so many smaller diamonds that my eyes kind of hurt as they catch the sparkle from the Christmas tree.
The other ring is a wedding band. Itâs gorgeous. It clearly matches the ring, and itâs crusted with small diamonds, each one cut into a slightly different shape. It should look chaotic, but the overall effect as they balance against each other is one of harmony and cohesion.
Together, theyâre absolutely stunning.
âMilaya?â
I shake my head. âAlexei. These are the most beautiful rings that Iâve ever seen in my whole life. But howâ¦â
He gets down on one knee, and my heart stops.
Gently, Alexei takes the rings from the box. He takes my trembling hand and slips one, then the other, onto my finger.
âMaggie. Magdalena. My love. My heart. You did not choose me as your husband. If you could have, I have no doubt you wouldnât have chosen me. Before I met you, I was⦠a beast,â he mutters.
I give him a smile. âHardly. A monster, maybe, but youâve never been a beast.â
He chuckles, pressing a kiss on my knuckles. âI was someone, certainly. I was someone who didnât believe that he needed a wife, or love, or any of that. I required a wife in order to maintain my dominance over my family legacy, but I didnât think that I needed one. I was content to pass every day in my business. To remain in Novgorod forever, to let Orlov House remain empty.â
I feel like crying. But I refuse to.
Alexei stands, tugging me close. âYou, Maggie, reminded me that Orlov House is never meant to be empty. It is a house for a family. A house for love. A house for people to live their lives within. It isnât a mausoleum, and I cannot honor my mother without making it live again. You taught me that life is meant to be lived, not endured. I love you,â he whispers.
My breath catches in my throat.
âI love you. And I think you stopped me from saying it last night, and while I donât understand whyâ¦â
âI love you too,â I gush.
Alexei blinks like I said something much worse.
âI love you. Iâm sorry about last night. I told myself that it couldnât be real, that I couldnât love you so quickly, but screw it. I love you, Alexei Orlov,â I say through the tears that I definitely have no control over anymore.
âYou love me?â
âYes,â I breathe.
Alexei sweeps in, sealing his mouth over mine in a kiss.
Everything is in that kiss. Every moment of joy weâve experienced. Every thing weâve said.
Every truth weâve exchanged.
When he pulls back, he smiles. âYour parents are still indisposed, I assume.â
I wrinkle my nose. âI am absolutely not going to find out.â
Alexei nods. âI meant to ask you this in front of your parents, but the time seems better now. Maggie, will you choose me? Will you be my wife, for now, and for all the Christmas holidays to come?â
The smile that splits my face feels as bright as the star on the top of the tree.
âI love you, Alexei Orlov. I love you, and Iâll choose you this Christmas, and every Christmas after.â
When he pulls me into a kiss this time, weâre both crying happy tears. He sweeps me into a hug, and I laugh, shouting my joy into the walls of the house that surround us like a warm hug.
Alexei Orlov isnât a monster. Heâs a miracle.
And heâs all mine.