Ivana follows her with her eyes as she sits beside me, blinking hard and dabbing her lips with the back of her hand.
“Are you sick?”
I should be devoting my attention to the woman in the bed, but I remember now that Cartier was sick before this happened. Before her uncle broke into my family’s home and tried to kill us all.
“Did they check you over when you arrived at the hospital?”
Cartier shakes her head, smiling. “I don’t need a doctor, Andrej. Look at me. I’m fine.”
She isn’t fine, but I’m not going to argue with her. Not here. I’ll wait till I get back to my room and speak to the nurse in private.
The sound of Ivana’s hoarse whisper makes us both turn back to the bed. Her lips are trying to form the words, but no sound is coming out.
“Don’t worry about us, Ivana.” I’m firm. “You just need to rest and recuperate. What would we do without you?”
But she isn’t giving up. Her lips bump together around a word that still doesn’t quite materialize.
“Tamara?” I fill the void with what I think she’s trying to say. “Your sister is on her way, Ivana. Cartier called her when?—”
But her eyes flash a warning at me: that isn’t what she’s trying to say.
“Bay… bee…” Her voice is barely there, but Ivana’s determination hasn’t taken a backseat to her life-threatening injuries.
“Baby?” I feel my brows knitting together. “Is that what you said,baby?”
Ivana’s eyes close, and I wonder if she has drifted back into unconsciousness so that her body can heal naturally.
Moments pass by, and neither of us speaks.
Then, she opens her eyes and murmurs again, louder: “Ba-by.”
“What baby, Ivana?” I’m confused.
I glance at Cartier, who refuses to make eye contact, then back at Ivana, realization blossoming slowly as her lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile, and she allows herself to fall asleep.
Cartier slides onto my lap and wraps her arms around my neck.
I place a hand over her abdomen and kiss her lips. “Are you…?”
I never imagined myself with a family of my own. I don’t know the first thing about being a father, and when I saw Leonid with his baby girls, it filled me with trepidation. If I was in his shoes, how would I know what to do? How does anyone keep another human being alive when they’re dependent on you for everything? How does a Bratva Pakhan switch from being the boss to being Daddy?
But now, sitting here in a hospital room with the woman I love, I can’t think of anything I want more.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Cartier scrunches her eyes and inhales deeply. “How would you feel?—”
“Shh.” I place a finger on her lips. “You already know how I feel about you, don’t you?”
She nods.
“So, I think you already know how I would feel about you having our baby.”
Her face glows with happiness, and the tiredness seems to magically vanish from the dark circles under her eyes.
“Can I speak now?” she murmurs against my finger, and I smile. “I love you, Andrej Ivanov.”
EPILOGUE
CARTIER