EPILOGUE: In Which She Extends an Olive Tree (1/2)
EPILOGUE: In Which She Extends an Olive Tree
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I was wet. Absolutely. Soaking. Wet.
It wasn’t the kind of wetness that was brought on by a freak rainstorm, or from getting caught out on the lawn when the sprinkler went off – or even from my husband whispering the dirtiest, lewdest things in my ear out in public (something he enjoyed doing to watch me squirm in discomfort).
A few more minutes, I thought to myself, shifting in the sopping wet seat.
I had been doing an awesome job of ignoring the waves of pain that rolled and retreated every few minutes – every nine minutes – but I made myself focus on the tall, dark-haired man in a charcoal-black suit standing at the podium in front of me, his deep voice carrying across the packed conference room.
“And finally, the Alvonich family has undertaken the responsibility of ensuring that the female literacy rate in Ruslavia increases,” Nikolai was saying, eyes sweeping the room before resting solely on me. “Every child deserves an education, regardless of gender.”
My back chose that exact moment to act up and I could no longer pretend that I wasn’t going into labour. The contractions had started a few weeks ago and were more or less bearable, although I had to keep reassuring Nikolai that I was okay.
But now there was no grinning and bearing it. Not when my water had broken about one minute ago.
“Holy fucking shit!” I screamed, flailing for the nearest person beside me – Rory – and digging my fingernails into her forearm.
The room went quiet when Nikolai halted mid-sentence, his face visibly paling in understanding.
“Oh, God, Fee! Your water broke!” Rory screeched like a banshee, jumping to her feet and staring in shock at the liquid dripping onto the floor before jumping into action.
The pain was now harder to ignore, even as I told myself that I wasn’t the first woman on God’s green earth to experience it. In fact, I was probably one of the lucky ones who could calmly sit through my water breaking and irritating contractions…
That built up to fucking knives stabbing me everywhere!
“Why in blooming hell were you just sitting there, sweetheart?” Rory was asking incredulously, but it felt like her voice was miles away. “Keep breathing. Nikolai, she’s having the baby! Have you turned into a statue?”
“I’m…fucking…breathing!” I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut as another contraction slammed into me, this time with the force of a goddamn freight train.
It took three minutes for Lev and Rory to get me out of the conference room and into the car.
“Where’s my husband?” I hissed at Rory between gasps for air, leaning back in my seat and trying desperately to concentrate on my breathing. I closed my eyes again, reaching for anything to tear my nails through.
“Right here, kitten.” Nikolai’s gentle voice came from my other side. The scent of his cologne wafted into my nostrils and I instantly felt like puking my spleen out. Or my baby. Preferably my baby.
My nails found purchase in Nikolai’s forearm, the skin exposed because he’d rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Eyes flying open, I bit out a high-pitched, “This is all your fucking fault!”
The one time I forgot to take my pill and he seduced the shit out of me. So here we were, eight-plus months later, reaping the end result. Not that I had anything to complain about. Two years of marriage and I was still amazed that he – a guy who continued to worship the ground I walked on even when I was repulsive and difficult – was all mine.
“Deep breaths, angel,” Rory was murmuring over the sound of the car engine, gently dragging loose tendrils of my hair out of my face.
“Breathe, baby,” Nikolai chimed in, placing a soft kiss on my damp brow. “I’m right here. You're doing great.”
“Can’t keep your dick in your pants,” I wailed, “so now I –” A contraction blindsided me, more intense than any of the previous ones and I fervently began to wish for death.
Thank you so much, Eve, for eating that fruit. Thank you for leaving womankind with the legacy of labour pains.
“Fuck,” I heard Nikolai curse loudly. I had no idea if it was from my startled cry of pain, or from the sting of my nails finally drawing blood from his arm. “Put your fucking foot on the pedal, Lev!”
“Calm down,” Rory chided, rubbing my back in small circles, “and breathe. Everyone’s meeting us at the hospital. You just need to breathe.”
Breathe? Was that alleviating the pain in any way? No. Not one bit.
Nothing I had ever experienced in all my twenty-seven years could have prepared me for this immense feeling of being battered inside-out. The pain was almost unbearable and, despite how irrational it was, I was mentally cursing Nikolai’s zealous libido. As if I hadn’t been as hungry for him as he was for me. As if I wasn’t excited to be having his baby; to be having our baby.
“Oh, God,” I sobbed, tasting salt in my mouth. “I want to…push! Need to!”
“We’re almost there, baby,” Nikolai said softly, sounding pained. “Why didn’t you say anything during my speech? You should have –”
“We were fine,” I breathed, referring to me and the baby. “You were…great up there.” I sucked in air. “If I wasn’t already having your baby, I would’ve…wantedto have your babies.”
He laughed weakly, and then suddenly there was nothing to laugh about because yet another powerful contraction stole my breath and my French tips were intent on piercing a vein in his arm.
***
Sonya Aurora Alvonich took her own sweet time to enter the world and when she finally did – hours and hours after her father’s press conference – no one was happier to see her than me, the woman who’d refused an epidural.
There were no words to describe the swirl of emotion I felt after the slime was wiped away from my baby girl and I finally, finally got to hold her – after her father had hogged her, of course. Nikolai was enchanted by Sonya, the tiny, beautiful creature we had made together. She had a full head of dark, silky curls and, when they eventually opened, the biggest cornflower blue eyes I had ever seen. With a Cupid’s bow mouth and apple cheeks, the wrinkles in her red face were quickly overlooked.
I was in love.
Nikolai manoeuvred his big body onto the hospital bed and got behind me, bracketing my body with his long legs. Exhausted, I leaned back into his powerful frame, cradling the tiny creature that was swathed in a blanket in my arms in a way that we could both gawk at her like the love-struck pair we were.
“Thank you, kitten,” Nikolai said softly, his breath tickling the shell of my ear. He kissed it.
I knew what he meant and it brought tears to my eyes. He had thanked me every single day of my pregnancy – and every single night, when I had felt as huge as the White House, he showed me how grateful he was.
“I love you, Kolya,” I whispered, eyes trained on our now-sleeping baby. After bawling her eyes out for what felt like hours, she was now comatose. Of course, after I had nursed her for the first time, with the help of a nurse and under the hungry scrutiny of my husband…
“I love you more. Always.” He nuzzled his nose into my tangled hair. “I love her, too. My docha,” he said on an exhale, stroking Sonya’s cheek with one fingertip. “How fucking blessed am I?”
And on that note, the royal physician allowed “everyone” to stream into the room.
Rory instantly cooed over her first grandchild and Devin, who probably wanted to believe that this was a virgin birth, surprised me by tearing up. And that made me tear up. Again.
“Oh, Dad,” I whispered, handing Sonya to him.
His hair was greyer now but he certainly didn’t look old enough to be a grandfather. “She’s gorgeous,” he sighed, relinquishing her to Rory.
“I finished writing Princess Sonya yesterday, by the way,” Rory mentioned, brushing her fingertips against Sonya’s cheeks. “Calvin did the illustrations. I’m only going to print one edition for her. She’s absolutely beautiful and… Bloody hell, I’m about to cry.”
Nikolai hugged me close, pressing his mouth against the side of my throat. I shivered. As disgusting and shattered as I felt, I couldn’t stop the prickle of awareness spiking down my spine.