"I see the way he watches you when you're not looking. Like you're this rare, beautiful thing he can't quite believe is real. And I see the way you soften around him. How your walls come down brick by brick." She squeezes my arm. "That's not about being a perfect Bratva wife or fitting some mold. That's about two people choosing each other despite everything."
I place my hand over my belly. The baby is still a bit too young to kick, but I talk myself sometimes into believing he or she is already moving, breathing, thriving, loving. It's enough to remind me I'm never truly alone anymore.
There's a part of me that desperately wants to believe in Hope's version of love conquering all. The part that melts when Samuil wraps his arms around me at night. The part that thrills at how his presenc
