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“Yeah, I left some black candles and a dead chicken in one of them. I remember how we’d go back every few days to see if the stuff we left had been moved,” Artem replies, downing the last of his champagne. “Hey, I’m going to go back over here for a little while. You guys should come with!”
I glance at Saint, feeling somewhat nervous about meeting more people. I’m still so preoccupied with acting correctly that I fear I’m coming across as unnatural and maybe a bit aloof. I’d hate for Saint to feel like I’m making a bad impression for him after all he’s done to help me.
“Come on, we should go. I really want everyone to see how awesome you are,” Saint says, coaxing me up from my seat until I decide to go with him willingly. “Okay, but I might have no idea what to say to any of them. I’m more curious about what they can say aboutyou.”
He laughs as the champagne begins to go to his head.“Yeah, I bet you would. Well, why don’t we go find out?”
Seeing him this happy is such a contrast to the impatient, moody person who picked me up off the side of the road. It’s so strange how much he’s opened up to me, but I appreciate it more than anything. To know that he really likes me enough to allow himself to be vulnerable around me makes all these months of loneliness feel worth it.
He leads me over to a group of people near the middle of the room. They’re all just as drunk as he is, and they’re showing no sign of stopping. It’s kind of fun being the only sober person, getting to observe who people truly are when their inhibitions are being suffocated by alcohol.
“Alright, so Saint’s got a girlfriend? Does this mean you’re not a virgin anymore?” a man in a dark blue suit asks right before he downs two shots of vodka.
“You’re hilarious. Holly, this is Dom, my mentor and the reason I never have a chance to relax,” Saint says, glaring at Dom. “He’s been on my ass about getting a girlfriend forever.”
“Well, yeah, if you got a girlfriend maybe you’d stop being such a hardass about everything,” Dom responds, handing me a glass of champagne.
“Oh, no thank you,” I say sheepishly as I refuse the glass.
He raises an eyebrow at me but doesn’t ask any questions. I’d hate to have this conversation in front of so many people, and every time I’m offered a glass of champagne, that probability goes up.
It’s easy to see how this lifestyle has impacted all of these people, but at the same time, I can see myself loving all of them for exactly who they are. It’s made me realize that not everybody who follows this path is a bad person – sometimes there’s just nowhere left to turn. Everyone needs a family, and some people don’t have the luxury of being born into a good one.
It makes me wonder who Saint would be if he’d never found a sense of community or support in the bratva. Would he have ended up in prison for some petty crime? Would he be a drug addict wandering the streets, looking for his next hit? The more I learn about him, it becomes clearer to me that he narrowly missed a lifetime of extreme hardship. The bratva saved him, and now he commands it with his whole heart and soul.
As the party continues, I can feel my anxiety increasing as I wait for the right moment to give Saint his gift. I was thinking about waiting for the whole night to end things on a positive note, but the anticipation is absolutely killing me. I need to see his face when he opens it. I need to know that he’s as excited as I am.
“Hey, can we talk over here for a second?” I ask him as he pours yet another glass of champagne. He has to have drank at least a bottle all on his own at this point, but I’m not going to tell him how to live. He can drink for the both of us.
“Huh? Is everything okay?” he asks, his expression suddenly growing serious and grave. “Did something happen?”
I laugh nervously. “Um, no, it’s nothing like that. There’s just something I want to give to you. I wanted to wait, but I think I’d rather just give it to you now before you black out.”
He flashes a guilty smile, placing his glass down before he takes a sip of it. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go over here then.”
As he follows me off to the side of the room where our table is, the sensation of needing to puke returns again. Instead of giving in, I force myself to move on from it. I won’t let this sickness ruin this moment for us.
Before he has a chance to say anything, I pull a little blue velvet box out of my coat pocket and return to him. He glances at me questioningly, but I know that he trusts me not to embarrass him or do something inappropriate. Even still, I know he’s curious and maybe a little scared.
“Here, just open it,” I say, handing the box to him. “You need to let me know what you think.”
He opens it cautiously, and nearly drops the box as soon as he sees two positive pregnancy tests. “Is this real? Are you being serious right now?” he asks, his eyes lighting up.
My heart nearly explodes as I see how excited he is. “Yes, it is. This is the reason I’ve been so sick for the last few days, and it’s the reason I haven’t been drinking all night. So, are you ready for this?”
He puts the box down and embraces me, nearly crushing my ribs as if he’s trying to climb inside of them. “Yes, of course I am. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have a baby with. Goddamn, this is so fucking cool.”
I’m ready to cry from the weight of my joy, my eyes watering beneath my meticulously applied makeup. “Yeah, I was really hoping you’d feel that way. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have as the father of my children.”
“Okay, just wait here. I have something for you too. I just need a minute,” he replies, walking over to our table again and taking a large drink from his glass before pulling a little square box out of his pocket.
“No way,” I say under my breath. Could this really be happening? Or do I need to temper my expectations before I break my own heart?
“Don’t freak out, just open it,” he teases.
My heart skips a beat as I open the box, and there it is – the most beautiful diamond ring I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Saint, are you sure? This is... this is a lot, wow,” I say, stammering as I grasp desperately for the right words.
