Many little girls dream of a wedding day. You know. The whole true love, marry the man of your dreams, live happily ever after thing.
I never did. Not really. I didnât have other dreams, per say, I just didnât think about it. My mom lived her life rather happily unmarried, and I just assumed that I would do the same.
Being a therapist, or a social worker, or both, mattered to me a whole lot more.
Well. Being productive and making myself part of the world.
I mean, being in love sounded nice, but it wasnât something I dreamed of.
And I definitely did not think it would happen like this.
I thought that Russia was kind of a religious place, but the ceremony seemed pretty darn agnostic. I repeated a bunch of words, which Elena translated for me quietly and quickly behind my shoulder, and before I knew it Alexei and I were married.
Afterwards, Elena, the priest, Alexei and I were alone in the room where the ceremony had happened.
Alexei had a glass of vodka, and was doing his best to mainline it straight into his veins. Elena and the priest chatted softly in Russian, and she gently ushered him to the door.
She cast a meaningful glance at Alexei, and barked something at him, then left.
I looked away.
The roomâs silence felt deafening.
âShe told me not to move,â Alexei said softly.
I blinked, glancing over at him.
âThe priest is worried about the storm. Elena agreed that he should get moving, or heâd have to spend the rest of the day at Orlov House until the storm lifted.â
âOh,â I say softly.
Alexei pulls out his phone and looks at it, then snorts. âThe weather doesnât call for anything so dramatic. No one will be stranded anywhere.â
âWhy were they worried?â
The very corner of his lips pulls into a smile. âElena said her knees hurt, and the priest agreed that the storm was pulling on his back.â
âThat happens to my mom too,â I murmur, my lips curling slightly.
Alexei looks at me.
I look down at my hands. âWhen the weather changes, or when thereâs a big storm, she always says that her hip hurts.â
âI guess thatâs one benefit of getting older. You can predict the weather,â he says.
âYeah. Well. I guess weâll find out.â
I meant it in the sense that weâd just said vows. Granted, they were in Russian, but they canât be all that different than when theyâre said in English. For better or for worse, as long as we both shall live, is kind of part of the whole thing.
Alexei, however, seems to interpret my attempt at a joke very poorly. He makes a snarly noise in his voice and downs the rest of the vodka in one gulp.
Great.
Iâm married to a man I donât know anything about, and I have pissed him off.
Again.
I tuck myself close, my hands wrapping around my elbows.
The silence is thick again.
âYour mother. Is she⦠she should be here,â Alexei says.
My head snaps up, and I stare.
Heâs looking at me, his eyes studying me. Heâs intense. I realize that Iâve been spending so much time not looking at Alexei, that I donât actually know what my new husband looks like.
So I take the opportunity to look.
Heâs beautiful. He really is. Sapphire-blue eyes in a face thatâs sculpted from marble. Dark blonde hair that contains glimmers of lightness, which catch the faint glimmers of muted snowy light from the windows.
Heâs tall. His shoulders are wide, and underneath his dress shirt, I can see the flex of his chest and shoulder muscles.
If I had to conjure myself a husband, Iâd be happy with how this one looks, for sure.
One of his eyebrows twitches. âOr, are you happy to not have her here?â
âNo. I mean. Iâm not sure,â I say.
Alexei tilts his head again.
âI love my mom. Sheâs all I have in the world. Sheâs the reason Iâm here,â I huff.
âShe is?â
I narrow my eyes and look at him. âWhy do you think I agreed to this?â
âI have no idea, Magdalena.â
The sound of my full name makes me sit up straight. âItâs Maggie.â
âI bet you let those familiar with you call you Maggie.â
âI do.â
âThen it seems appropriate for me to use Magdalena.â
âWow. So this is it? Strangers, even though we just got married?â
He tilts his head. âYou were telling me why you agreed to this.â
My heart breaks a little at the fact that he doesnât insist that we arenât strangers.
But I continue.
âThe⦠mob. The ones who arenât you. They came for us, six months ago after they found out that my⦠biological dad apparently did really care about us. Burned our house down. My mom, she almost died,â I whisper.
Alexei doesnât move.
âMy parents werenât together. I was the product of a one-night stand. But evidently my bio dad, he was⦠helping. He sent us money. He helped get me into school. He cared about us enough that we could be used against him.â
âAnd so when he offered to marry you offâ¦â
I shrug. âI agreed. Because youâre the bigger monster. Right?â I raise my eyebrow.
Alexeiâs face darkens. âI am.â
âWell. I figured I could face a big monster if it meant my mom could be safe.â
âAre you safe?â
I look at him.
âI heard you speak of your mother. Your father. Your desire to make sure that she is safe. But what about you? Did you not think yourself safe?â
âWell, I kind of figured the man who spent my whole life watching over my mom and me from afar wouldnât completely screw me over.â
âYou trusted a man you barely knew?â
Well, I guess when he says it like that⦠âYeah. I guess I did.â
âMagdalena.â
I look up.
Alexei moves. Iâm sitting on an overly stiff couch, and before I realize it,heâs within about six inches of me. I lean back, keeping my eyes trained on his, as he looms over me.
âI am the bigger monster. Your father did not lead you astray.â
âOkay,â I whisper.
Something seems to flit across his face. He steps back, looking out the window to the snow falling outside.
âYou are my wife now. You will live in Orlov House. If youâd like⦠we can send for your mother.â
I blink.
âI am a monster. You must remember this.â
âAlexeiâ¦â
He flinches.
I take a deep breath. âI know why I agreed to this. But why did you?â
He turns.
âIf youâre the one people are afraid of, then why did you agree to marry me? What do you get out of it?â
Iâm genuinely curious. Heâs so hellbent on being seen as someone harsh, and cruel, but Iâve seen the way Elena frets over him.
Iâve seen how much she cares.
Elena is a nice person, and she wouldnât invest so much into a man who was truly a monster.
Alexei looks at me.
âThereâs no point in lying. I was honest with you. Might as well be honest with me too,â I point out.
Alexeiâs perfect lips twitch again. âFair point.â
He shifts, so that heâs sitting next to me. The couch is stiff as a board, and it doesnât give at all as Alexei sinks into it.
âMy family is old,â he begins.
I raise an eyebrow. âElena called you a prince.â
He nods. âIn the oldest sense. The land, this house, they have been part of it for generations. I cannot inherit the house without a family. Without a wife,â he says meaningfully.
Ah. âThatâs old school.â
His lips tip again. âOld school,â he murmurs, like heâs never heard the phrase before. âYes. Well. That is the case. I needed a wife, and I do not⦠this was a very easy way to get one.â
âDonât date much?â
Alexei shakes his head. âNo.â
Well. Thatâs interesting, at least.
Still, I had hoped that he was⦠I donât know. Interested in me, somehow.
That it wasnât quite as sanitized as it seems.
âI wonât hurt you, Magdalena. I will protect you. I will protect your mother. I will keep you safe. Orlov House, the land, the staff⦠they are yours. We can keep your mother here. Any⦠I can give you money, and clothes, and anything you want, it will be yours.â
âAnd if what I wanted was a loving family? A happy husband?â
Alexei looks away.
âGot it,â I murmur.
âI will not promise something I cannot give,â he says softly.
Well. At least heâs being honest.
I stand.
âWhere are you going?â Alexei asks.
Turning, I look back at him.
âDoes it matter?â
âElena will return. She wished to bring us cake.â
That earns a little smile from me. âAnd you donât want to disappoint Elena, do you?â
Alexei nods. âShe is⦠hopeful.â
âFor what?â
âThat I am not the monster that I am.â
Interesting. âAnd you want to give her hope, but not me?â
Alexei frowns.
I sigh, and settle back onto the couch.
Alexei looks at me. âWhat are you doing?â
âI like Elena. I appreciate your honesty. So Iâll happily eat cake with her and pretend. What about you?â
Alexei takes a deep breath. I can smell his cologne, spicy and vaguely citrus against my senses.
âFor Elena, we can pretend.â
The next morning, Alexei is gone.
I pretend it doesnât bother me. Elena lets me know that heâs gone back to Novgorod for business.
He left me a black credit card, which I know from my general understanding of the world is the type without a limit.
Well, at least he wasnât kidding about the money stuff.
I spend the morning making the best of my unlimited money. Elena gives me the shipping address for the house, and I type it in so many times, itâs basically memorized by the time Iâm ready to talk to my mom.
When her face pops up on my screen, I do my best to smile.
However, she is still my mom, and the second she sees me her eyebrows pinch with worry.
âOh, baby. Whatâs wrong?â
Tears pinch the corners of my eyes.
I could tell her. I could explain everything, and let her know that Iâm sad and lonely and nothing really seems right.
Butâ¦
I donât want her to worry.
âOh, nothing. Just dusty in here and Iâve been sneezing a lot.â
âYou sure?â
I nod.
âOk. Well, tell me everything.â
I break a smile.
And then I lie through my teeth.
I tell my mom that weâre planning a wedding later, and that she can come. I say that Alexei is kind, and thoughtful, and that he took me shopping. I tell her about Elena (which is true) and that the house is fantastic (also true). By the end of my story, Iâm out of breath and half in love with the life that Iâve been describing to her.
It sounds lovely.
âOh sweetheart. That sounds amazing. I canât wait to meet him!â
âI canât wait either,â I say, my jaw clicking around the lie.
âSo, what are you two doing for Christmas?â
I squeeze my eyes shut. âOh, you know. Decorating soon, but since itâs the first holiday Iâm in the house and in Russia, I want to do like⦠Russian things.â
âWell that sounds fun, sweetheart. I canât wait to see what you come up with.â
âHowâs⦠um⦠dad?â I stumble. It feels weird to call him that but⦠technically he is my dad.
A blush creeps across my momâs cheeks. âWell, it turns out that I remembered your father to be a very nice man and⦠heâs still a very nice man.â
âMom!â I say, genuinely smiling.
âItâs been nice to reconnect, thatâs all.â
Gross. âI donât know what you mean by that, and I donât want to.â
My mom laughs. âIâm so happy youâre doing well, sweetie. You know, maybe thereâs a silver lining to all this.â
âLike what?â
She smiles. âLike, maybe we were meant to find these very nice men.â
Oh god.
My heart crumples. âHey mom, I gotta go.â
âOkay. Love you, sweetie. Send me pictures of your decorating.â
âI will.â
I hang up the call, then stand up. I trot down from my room, making the long trek to the kitchen.
Elena is humming to herself, and I knock softly.
âYes?â
âAre there any Christmas decorations in this house?â I ask.
Elenaâs eyes glint with something thatâs a little mischievous. âWhy do you ask?â
Resolve grips me. âIâm the lady of the house now, right?â
âYes you are, dochka.â
I give her a nod. âThen Iâd say, itâs time to get this house Christmas-ready.â