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“Freya, you....” The remaining part of the sentence got lost in a thick string of Russian.
His warm breath fanned my lips, stirring flurries in my chest and forcing my eyes to flicker to his lips.
“Eyes up here, wife.”
My cheeks warmed, and my heart raced when the smallest smile appeared on his lips, smoothening the deep creases on his forehead, making him appear less like the monster I’d pegged him to be.
Slowly, his thumb ran ghostly against my cheeks, and for a lingering moment, something alien surfaced in his eyes. Something resembling care.
In a blink, it was gone, and he took a step back, letting his hands fall back to his sides.
“You have a choice,” was all he said, and the weight of his words sank in, his silence saying more than we both knew he ever would.
Egor Yezhov was saying I could trade the baby’s life for mine.Hewas giving me the power to make the decision. I didn’t have to keep the pregnancy because…because my life hadvalue.More valueto him.
Something delicate, like a crystal vase teetering on the edge of a shelf, struck my heart—a pang of uncertainty. My breath caught in my throat, and my thoughts began to swirl into a mad tornado. The words echoed through my mind:Does he care about me?
A flutter of anxiety stirred in my chest, like a bird beating its wings against the confines of its cage, and my mind raced.
Surely, I was mistaken becausethatwas most certainly not possible. A man like him did not have the capacity to care about anyone other than himself.
Shaking my head, I buried the absurd thoughts as quickly as they had surfaced and stared at him with a bravery that faltered.
“Thank you for giving me the choice, but no. I’m content knowing I have a shot at this, seeing my baby, even if it’s for only a second.”
“Ourbaby,” he corrected sternly. “My blood and yours flow through its veins.” And while he was speaking, from his pocket, he produced….
No, it couldn’t be.
“A phone?”
The sleek black edges glinted under the streetlights as he handed it to me. With a skeptical glare, I took it, inspecting the sides because they looked oddly familiar.
My eyes snapped back to meet his, studying me curiously. I raised the device in the air like something sacred that wasn’t meant to be touched.
“This is mine.” I looked at it and back at him, still disbelieving that I had it with me. “This is my phone.”
His eyes held no emotion when he said, “Yes, it's yours. And it’s monitored. You can call your mom, sister, and friend, too, whenever you want. If you try to make contact with anyone other than those three people on the list, I won’t hesitate to take it back from you. Understood?”
I didn’t need him to explain that he was referring to John as “anyone other.” But the burning tears I’d tried so hard to keep buried rushed out in a messy torrent.
It started with a sniffle. And then more sniffles. Right before I broke like a dam, with a slumped shoulder trembling as I finally cried myself a river, I clutched the phone close to my chest, feeling the weight of my loneliness crash down on me.
Egor’s footsteps echoed through the silence, clicking on the pavement as he walked closer. His presence wrapped me in comforting warmth, worsening the sobs. They grew louder and more ragged, accompanied by hiccups and bubble snots from my nostrils, as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a gentle hug.
I stiffened, and then relaxed. It felt good.So, so good.I could get lost in it for a long time.
For the first time, I felt his touch not just as a physical sensation but as a sense of safety, of being enveloped in a warmth that seeped deep into my bones. It was hard but encouraging—detached but just what I needed to let my guard down and justbe.
We could both tell that this was hard for him, foreign territory, with the way his hands made staccato pats on my backin a soothing rhythm, his silence speaking louder than his words ever could.
He was trying, in his own way, to comfort me—to be there for me. And in that moment, it was enough.
At first, in that hospital room, shrouded with the possibility that either me or my—our—baby could die, I hadn’t believed a word he’d uttered about being there for us. But now, sealed in this time capsule where the stone and steel Egor Yezhov himself reassured me with a hug, I felt it…that tiny ray of hope, shining forth in the midst of darkness.
Chapter 25 – Egor
Two Weeks Later
