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ARSEN:You’re drunk. We’ll have this conversation when you can write coherent sentences.
JASPER:Come part888** wit meeee
ARSEN:Sleep it off, Jasper. We’ll talk tomorrow.
I turn my phone off, ignoring the grating gnaw in the back of my head that says I should be doing more for the man who saved my life.
As my gaze turns to my daughter, though, it’s easier to ignore the gnaw. This is where I’m meant to be.
My family has to come first.
Always.
52
LAILA
“Look at the camera, Nina! Nina,” the photographer croons, waving a teddy bear over the top of the lens. “Nina, look at— You, too, Laila. The lens is over here.”
Arsen smirks, and I realize my gaze may have wandered a bit to the right. My face warms as I turn back to the camera. Arsen’s attention leaves me painfully aware of every breath, every brush of fabric against my skin.
Since the moment he told me he’d hired a photographer to take portraits of me, Nina, and my mom, my heart has been humming in my chest. He had dresses delivered for all of us, and I can’t even begin to imagine when he had the time to plan this.
The last seven weeks have been a steady hum of late nights with Nina, working on the Pobeda launch, and spending every night next to me in what has officially becomeourroom.
I quickly stop thinking about my husband before my blush becomes visible from outer space.
Mom eases into the shot, sitting down gingerly in the armchair in front of the fireplace. Arsen pulls her walker out of frame, and I keep smiling, like I don’t notice how much slower she moves lately.
There are a few shots of Mom with Nina and then a few more with the three of us.
Zak finally lowers his camera and Arsen claps him on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming on such short notice. That was a good session.”
“We aren’t done yet.”
Both men turn to me, looking confused.
“We got all the shots on my list.” Zak consults his phone to be sure.
“But Arsen wasn’t in any of them.”
Arsen slips closer, his voice low. “This wasn’t for me. I wanted you to have pictures of the three of you. Something to show Nina one day.”
There’s a softness in his voice that pokes at a tender spot I’m not ready to discuss yet. Still, I can’t stop myself from looking over at my mom—at her beaming smile and the gorgeous blue dress she’s wearing. She looks happy, but beneath the smile and the makeup, she’s losing weight and energy by the day.
“Today wasn’t about me,” he continues. “It’s a gift for you and your mother.”
“And it’s a great gift. But it wouldn’t be complete without a few pictures of you.” I take his hand. “You’re a part of the family, too.”
He looks back to Zak like he’s hoping the photographer will argue, but I grab his hand and pull him towards the fireplace.
Mom’s still in the chair with Nina, and Arsen and I squeeze in behind. He curls his arm around my waist like we do this all the time.
“Wow, that is a good-looking family,” Zak crows from behind his camera. He pokes his head over the top. “How about a smile, Arsen?”
Arsen’s brow lifts. If Zak isn’t careful, he might get thrown from the window.
I prod him in the ribs.
