by Kat T. Masen
“It’s safe enough. We have no choice as the baby appears distressed. You’re in the best hands. Now, do we have the father here?”
Phoebe jumped quickly. “No, she has me. I’ll be the dad.”
The nurse said nothing, and with some additional help, she wheeled me to the door and told us only one could enter the operating room.
“I want my mama,” I cried, openly.
“I’m here, Milly, right here.”
With her hand grasping mine, I sobbed, “Mama, I’m scared.”
She hushed me, kissing my forehead. “You’re a brave girl. This baby is going to be loved so much. I promise you, you’ll change forever and feel nothing like the love for this baby.”
Nodding my head, I laid back, and stared at the ceiling while the surgeon began. The voices that surrounded me were muffled. I was too focused on this tugging of my body, and after what seemed like forever, a sound echoed loudly in the room—wails from a baby.
“Congratulations, it’s a girl!”
Everyone in the room cheered. Mama grinned so big but with clouded eyes. She began to laugh, a joyous laughter that I hadn’t heard in such a long time.
“She’s beautiful.”
The nurse, smiling wide, brought her over to me, the baby’s face making contact against my own.
She stopped crying, squinting her eyes and blinded by the light. It was all surreal, the elation in the room and the overjoyed miracle of birth. But I was exhausted, waiting for this moment of love to wash over me like everyone said it would. There was something that stirred, an unknown emotion, but all I could see was his face.
All I see is him.
“I’m so proud of you, honey. I told you, you’ll fall in love from the moment you see her.”
I smiled, forced. “You’re right, Mama, that’s exactly how I feel.”
That moment remains crystal clear. The moment that every woman dreams about, just not me. I never wanted babies. I never wanted to have a family and pass on Mama’s disease. No one, and I mean no one, understands the pain of watching their mother suffer as much as I have. Each time, each memory loss fuels my sadness and throws me deeper into depression.
And just when I began to climb out, see a small ray of light, the nightmare continues its wretched domination.
She’s lying beside me dressed in a little pink bunny outfit that Phoebe insisted she wear. Her face has changed, a chubby little girl with light eyes and wispy brown hair. Something about her face, something I couldn’t quite distinguish, reminded me of him. It was the shape of her eyes, perhaps, nothing like my almond shape. Or maybe it was her tiny hands, the shape of her nails that mirrored his.
I still thought about him.
Every day.
Every time I looked at her.
She stirred, softly, and when that stir was the beginning of a cry, I scooped her in my arms. I was tired. She didn’t take to sleeping well, and my breasts didn’t produce the milk as they should. I felt like a failure, a sign that I wasn’t cut out to be a mother. I was not sure when I last washed my hair or even shaved my legs.
It was all about her.
Just her and me.
I watched her again, and surely, she must realize I was complaining about her as a sweet smile played on her lips. My heart began to flutter, my smile in tow. I laughed, softly to myself, wishing Mama could see this.
Quickly, hoping to recap this moment, I placed her in her carrier and headed over to visit Mama. She loved seeing Katerina, and I was excited, for once, to have her in my arms.
It was a short drive over, enough to keep Katerina settled. The moment I arrived, a doctor ushered me in, asking me to take a seat.
“Miss Milenov, we wanted to speak to you in private.” He removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes. “Unfortunately, we received your mother’s results back, and they aren’t good.”
My stomach omits a sick growl, making it difficult to breathe and focus. “What’s… what’s wrong?”
“We found a tumor beside her brain. It’s cancerous and has spread. We can’t operate.”
My hands began to shake, his words absolute nonsense. “What do you mean you can’t operate?”
“It has spread, and it’s too late. I’m sorry.”
I shook uncontrollably. “How long… how long do we have?”
“It’s a difficult question. I can’t really ans—”
“Answer me!”
Katerina jolted at my scream, crying in symphony inside her carrier.
“Anywhere between weeks to months. I’m sorry.”
Her cries amplified, and with my anger gripping me, I picked her up and hushed her, rocking her back and forth with no luck. The doctor suggested that she took her off my hands, but I pulled her back, warning her not to touch my baby.
“Miss Milenov. We have counselors on site. I think it’s best you talk to them, and maybe get someone to help you with the baby. It’s going to be a difficult time.”
Staring down at her face, unaware that my tears were falling onto her blanket, my mind became increasingly clear.
If I have to choose between her and Mama, I will choose Mama in a heartbeat.
I squeeze my head between my legs, desperately trying to erase all the memories. The darkness should have cured me. Running away from everything was my only answer. I’m not meant to be a mother. I can’t even give birth like a normal mother should have nor can I even breastfeed. And that bond, the supposedly unconditional love that you feel, it’s missing.
No, I made the right decision. Flynn will help, he promised me he would. He won’t let me down. I just need to be alone and somehow I have to find a way to stop Mama from dying anytime soon.
There’s a rustling in the bush. It echoes loudly in the still of the night. Maybe my time is up, a wild animal ready to feast on me and eat up my soul.
Yeah, I should be so fucking lucky.
And then, the dead silence becomes heavy breathing. In and out. Strong, heavy, and with a familiar beat.
My mind is playing tricks on me. Hallucinating from the surge of emotions that gripped me only moments ago.
“It’s you,” the voice whispers, not to frighten me.
In a heart’s beat, my pulse races furiously. Another memory, another piece I want so desperately to forget.
He’s here.
He has found me.
I’m terrified.
I can’t look at him.
I don’t need his judgment on top of everything else.
“Will you say something, please?”
I check my shoelaces, making sure they’re tight. Like a well-tuned engine, my heart rate accelerates, sending waves to my brain that begin the adrenaline rush. Without lifting my head, I try to remember which path to take through the dense bushland. If I need to escape him, it will need to be quick.
Three. Two. One.
I run, my arms moving at rapid speed, the sticks beneath my feet breaking. He’s yelling, birds are flying from their nests in fear, but I run, I don’t need him. My life is better without him. I can do it all on my own.
My body is yanked backward, and with my breath caught into my throat, he turns me around and smacks me into his chest, suffocating me.
I can’t breathe.
I smell only him.
I feel only him.
My willpower fails me, and with a heavy scream, I sob into his chest, slamming my fists into his body like I’m beating a drum. Part of me wants to escape him, to hurt him, and to push him away out of my space, but the other part of me, in an exuberant amount of pain, remains in his arms though trying to fight how comforting he makes me feel at this moment.
“Milana, please stop. I beg you.”
I can’t. Hysterical but so hopelessly sad that he’s here. It takes me moments, my chest heaving loudly inside his embrace.
He’s trying to protect me, but he can’t stop Mama from dying, no one can.
Softly, and with a gentle touch, he lifts my face. My eyes have swelled, an
d with only the moonlight hovering over us, we both search each other until our eyes meet, and my whole world falls into his hands.
I love him.
I can’t deny that.
“Don’t run away from me, please. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
The cries that escape me are driven by fear, the hurt seeping out in every tear.
“I’m terrified. I’m terrified of loving my baby and her losing me one day, just like I’m losing Mama. I can’t live without her… I don’t want her to die!” I choke, the sobs punching through me as the raw pain begins to tear away at me again.
“You won’t lose her. You need to love her, just like your mom loves you.”
The tip of his thumb swipes beneath my eye, his expression compassionate and overcome with worry as his brows draw together. In an attempt to calm my raging emotions, I take a moment to examine him, instantly noticing his gaunt cheeks. Now I want to touch him, feel his skin beneath my fingertips for my own selfish reasons.
“Milana, I was a fucking idiot not to understand how much you love your mom and gave up everything for her. She’s special. I’ve known her for two minutes, and in my whole life, no one, aside from you, has made me feel accepted. So, I get it, I get everything you’re feeling right now. And you know what, I’m jealous. You have so many years and memories with her.” He gazes at me, longingly, yet the pain is transparent. “I should have been there for you. God, I just kept fucking up, you know. I mean, Carson… fuck! I just should have—”
“Stop.” I place my hand on his chest, my turn to ease his pain. “I shouldn’t have questioned your relationship with your mother. You have every right to be upset, angry, and everything else you feel toward Gina. I should have understood that, after all, it’s how I feel toward my dad. But the thing is, you can’t blame yourself for her actions. You didn’t choose that childhood, Wesley, but you can choose how you live your life as an adult.”
“I miss you. It fucking killed me when you left.”
I sigh. “I had to. We were toxic.”
“But now?”
My finger moves toward his face, caressing the scar on his jawline. I miss it, a flaw yet a piece of him that’s unique and only belongs to him.
Suddenly, my brain reacts, remembering his words only moments ago. “You met Mama?”
“Yes.” He smiles, wrapping his hands around the back of my neck and casually resting them there. “And I plan on spending as much time with her while I can.”
Again, this all seems rushed and farfetched. He wants to spend time with Mama after meeting her for two minutes. Does he think this is how he can woo me back? And then, the giant elephant that has been in my room, or should I say head, for the last nine months has suddenly made its way in front of both of us.
“The baby…” I mutter, trying to find a way to explain all of what happened.
“Yes.” He sighs. “You really threw a giant curveball at me. I never, in my wildest dreams, expected something like that. The last twenty-four hours have been the most intense hours of my entire life. I mean, fuck, Milana, she’s our baby. You had a baby, and she’s mine.”
“God, Wesley, I don’t even know where to begin with telling you—”
He cuts me off, placing his finger against my lips. “I want to be wherever you and Katerina are. You are my family, you’re my life. I’ve known her for one day, and I can’t imagine life without her.”
“You spent a day with her?”
“Yes.” This time, he caresses my cheek, softly, watching his hand glide against my tear-streaked patchy skin. “I’ve barely slept.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. We were just so fucked up, you know. And when we were together, it was like a high. I just forgot everything existed, and then you left, and I went back to the old me. I don’t blame you, in a way, for hiding this from me.”
Wesley pulls away, and instantly, I miss the contact. He rubs his face with his hands, perhaps the exhaustion weighs down his emotions much like me. “I’m not going to hide that, Milana, or lie to you. I wasn’t good during our time apart, and I need help. I need to find a way to deal with my demons and not keep feeding them.”
“I should have helped you.”
“Don’t you hear what I’m saying?” His tone turns into frustration. “We’re both hurting for different reasons, and we both need help. If we’re going to be together, we both need to work on ways to move forward.”
Instinctively, my hand reaches out to him, grazing his arm with the palm of my hand.
“Play the game, by the rules, and everyone’s a winner.”
“Yeah, but you gotta be honest. Tell me what you want. You.” He points to my heart, forcing me to look deep within myself and ask the question that I have so easily buried beneath all the pain.
“I want to learn to bond with our daughter, but I also want to give Mama her dying wishes,” I croak, bowing my head down. “I just can’t be everything to everyone.”
“You know what?” He lifts my chin, knowingly capturing me with his luring stare. “Knowing Katya, and I think I can say I do, you’ve granted her wish. She just wants to see you love and love her granddaughter just like she loves you. Anything else is a bonus.”
The corner of my lip curves upward, a smile in tow as the tears slowly dissolve. “Like visiting the Colosseum and kissing an Italian man?”
“Yes.” He grins, eyes beautifully lighting up with joy. “I’m sure we can make that happen.”
“Or cuddling a koala in Australia?”
“Yes, although I heard they are fierce and can claw your eyes out, but sure, we can.”
I take a step back, analyzing his body mannerisms to see if this is all a scam to get me back into his life. In the short time we have spent together, I never expected this to happen. Fall in love with a man so wrong for me, and me so wrong for him, then create this family.
“You would do that? Give up everything to spend these next few months with my mama… Flynn included?”
Extending his hand, he reaches for my shirt and pulls me into his body. As soon as it touches his, that jolt, the sensation that happens every time his body touches mine, kick-starts my heart and makes my stomach flutter all in that one moment. With a soft, tender scrape of his thumb against my bottom lip, he moves in closer and grazes his lips against mine, kissing me deeply as the whimpers of anticipation become trapped in our kiss.
My hands move toward the back of his head, clutching his hair as I did so many times before but this time, I allow myself to succumb to the moment, missing him terribly and questioning my need to escape him when it becomes so painfully obvious that he’s the only man I’ve ever loved.
His lips are warm, and each time we pull apart, our breathing is shaky and shallow.
We both need each other like the air we breathe. Without it, we have no chance of survival.
In the cool of the night, nestled between the tall, dark trees and surrounded by no one besides each other, we kiss as if our lives depend on it. Both of us so desperate to regain the last nine months we have lost.
Wesley moans into my mouth, placing his hand on my shoulder then sliding it up and settling on my neck. Pulling away, slowly, he rests his forehead against mine, catching his breath.
“For once, I can say money does buy happiness. I will spend every cent I own to give your mom the final moments she deserves. As for Flynn, he’s like the brother I never had.”
Resisting the urge to kiss him and control my ravenous breathing, which becomes more difficult as each moment passes, I manage to whisper, wanting reassurance, “You would do that?”
“I want it all. You, family, happiness, your mom with us… hell, I’ll buy a house next door to Phoebe’s.”
My laughter escapes. How does this man evoke so many emotions from me that no one else can ever do? He’s crazy. Plain and simple.
“Wow, you must really love me if you’re willing to move next door to Phoebe.”
And
just like that, his expression relaxes, and the beautiful man that I have unraveled beneath all the masks is standing before me and offering me a life that I have never imagined.
I don’t care what people think about Wesley, or us, for that matter. All that matters is what we think. I love him, every inch of his screwed-up soul. And just maybe, he has finally met his match.
I’m every bit as screwed up as he is.
And that, oddly, makes me content.
“Seeing you happy makes me happy. Jesus, Milana. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you. I knew it, that day in the café. Something about you, I just couldn’t forget. And yes, the twisted piece in that puzzle is that you were Em’s assistant, and I wanted revenge. But everything I do from this moment will ride on one important thing, one important condition.”
Taking a step back, my breathing becomes rapid and shallow. My pulse is pounding in my temples. I have no idea what condition he will demand, or if I’m even willing to sacrifice whatever it is to make him happy. I gaze into his eyes, willingly drawing myself in and experiencing the magic which arises every time he looks back at me this way—mischievous with a deadly grin—a man with an ulterior motive. In ways, this look—so deep and transcending—scares and excites me at the same time.
It’s Wesley Rich.
Mr. Bad Boy.
What could he possibly want from me that I haven’t already given him?
And then, in the middle of these rusty woods, Wesley Rich gets down on one knee.
“Marry me.”
Epilogue
Wesley
There’s a hum of excitement in the room, nerves amplified as the anticipation builds, and the long-awaited video is playing in the background.
My hand is drenched in sweat, gripping Milana’s while tapping against my knee beneath the table. The collar on my shirt is irritating me. I haven’t worn a tuxedo in quite some time and only just realized how restricted this ridiculous get-up makes me feel.
God, I even had to shave my beard to look semi-human.
But it isn’t just this moment, it’s everything around me.