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I wait outside the bathroom for Isabella, keeping a vigilant eye on our surroundings. Ottawa is a reasonably sized airport, and the trip from the train station to the bus station to retrieve the new go bag went smoothly.
We stopped for breakfast at a lovely cafe and acted like a regular couple while each keeping a vigilant watch on our surroundings. I scan the departure monitors and notice that our flight is flashing for us to go to the gate.
Should I go into the bathroom and see if Isabella is alright? She’s been in there for quite a while now. A flight attendant walks past, rolling her bag.
“Excuse me,” I stop her. “I’m sorry to trouble you. My wife went into the bathroom a while ago. She’s got bad morning sickness. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind checking on her for me.”
“Oh!” The woman looks at me and smiles. “Sure. What’s her name.”
“Is… Sam,” I correct myself, remembering our new names. Fuck this is getting confusing.
She nods and disappears inside the bathroom. A few minutes later, she emerges with Isabella. “Here she is, handsome.” The woman gives me a flirty smile before turning to Isabella. “Are you sure you’re okay, hon?”
“Thank you,” Isabella gives the woman a weak smile. “I’ll go to that kiosk you recommended to get that tea.”
“Trust me, you’ll be glad you did,” the woman tells Isabella. “It saved my life and a few flights through all four of my pregnancies.” She gives us a small wave. “Take care.”
“Thank you,” I call after her, and she turns to give me another big smile before disappearing into the crowd.
“Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” Isabella snaps. Her face is pale, and her eyes a little glassy. “I’ve just hurled my guts out, choked on some toothpaste, and have a God-awful headache, and I’m dying for a cup of coffee.”
“You can’t have coffee.” I remind her.
“Fuck! I DIDN’T know that!” She hisses, spins on her heel, and marches off in the opposite direction to our gate.
I stand staring after her for a few minutes, calming my rising anger at being snapped at like that by her and reminding myself Isabella is raging on hormones right now.
Taking a deep breath, I stride after her. “Hold up there.” I grab her arm. “I know you’re not feeling good. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bite my head off like that. Especially in public.”
“Oh dear, is your big bad Bratva ego having a bad time coping with it?” she sneers, her eyes flashing, and I frown.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“You!” Isabella pokes me with her index finger. “You’re what’s wrong with me.” Her eyes are blazing. “Before I met you, I had plans. After I met you, my life turned into a ball of shit!” Her eyes bore into mine. “You talk about giving me space, but you can’t even let me vomit in peace without sending some gorgeous woman in to come get me.” Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “What was that? Your way of reminding me how easily you can get a beautiful woman to do your bidding,” she snarls. “Or your way of making me feel fucking shit about myself because I’m popping out of my clothes and smell of vomit all the time?”
Isabella turns and stomps off into the kiosk. My jaw has dropped slightly staring after, and it hits me.
“She’s fucking jealous of a random woman I spoke to!” I seethe through gritted teeth.
Jesus Christ! Anger burns inside me. I will not tolerate that kind of behavior. I can talk to who the fuck I want, and I will not have my wife turn into a shrew just because I speak to a pretty woman.
I’m just about to march after her when my jacket pocket buzzes. Shit! I nearly forgot to turn my phone off after checking for messages from my mother. I pull it out and see an SOS message from my mother. My heart feels like it’s stopped for a few minutes, and I immediately think it’s about my father. Looking up to check where Isabella is, I see her speaking to the woman in the shop. I dial it, and after a few rings, a voice that’s haunted me for the past year answers.
“Andrey?” Lev’s voice is hushed. “Is that you, brother?”
“Lev?” I breathe. “Fuck, is that really you?” My heart starts to thump in my chest.
“Yeah. It’s me.” Lev answers. “It’s good to hear your voice again. I was hoping our reunion would be under better circumstances, but I didn’t realize what a shit show I was walking into.”
“Yes, this was not the time to come back from the dead.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t contact any of you,” Lev says. “I didn’t know who was trying to kill me. I still don’t. I thought it was Dad and his bestie, Marco, but now I’m not so certain.” His voice lowers even more. “I believe you and Isabella are married now and have twins on the way?”
“Yeah!” I nod, and my eyes narrow. “How do you know that?”
“Marco told me,” Lev answers. “Turns out Marco and Dad had us taken from Konstantin as he and his fucked up Uncle are trying to take over our organization.” His words send alarm bells ringing through me.
