105. Ivanov House

105. Ivanov House
I headed to the kitchen and poured myself a cold glass of wine.

I turned around when I heard her heels; in those days, I had come to love that sound echoing through the house.

"Oh my."

I was breathless when I saw her. Was this normal? It should be forbidden to be so beautiful.

She wore a gorgeous black dress with a pleated skirt. The cuffs and lapel of the white shirt were lace. The skirt danced with the sway of her hips, and I got lost in those endlessly long legs clad in black stockings, ending in simple black Louis Vuitton heels.

I had loved that dress since we first saw it; it was definitely my favorite. She looked stunning, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, exposing her delicate and elegant neck.

Once again, she didn't overdo the makeup.

"Babe, you look stunning," I took her hand and spun her around, admiring the flow of her skirt and catching a glimpse of the lace on her stockings.

She smiled.

"We have to go," I left the glass in the kitchen and put on my blazer.

I noticed Margaret giving me a quick once-over. Her dumbfounded expression made me feel enormous; I was glad she liked it.

I wore my most flattering pants, a fitted white shirt, and a navy blue blazer.

I took her hand and gently pulled her close, wrapping my arm around her waist and neck, tilting her slightly to give her a movie-worthy kiss. Thankfully, I could still do it, despite her huge belly.

I looked at her captivated and completely in love.

We arrived at my parents' house, a beautiful mansion in BellVille. The ocean views were spectacular; I would love to have a house around here.

Where would Margaret like to live?

She gracefully got out of the car. She really had a lot of class, and Victoria greeted us at the door with a big smile.

"So glad you're here already," my mother said, looking at Margaret fondly. "Hello, Margaret."

She enveloped her and merged with my girl in a hug, giving her a tender kiss on the cheek.

It was a very maternal scene, especially because she walked in, and it took me a while to calm her down because she was crying and yelling at me for not telling her about my wife's disappearance.

"I didn't think you would want to know," I was completely honest, and she looked hurt.

"I'm really making an effort," she said with a strained voice. "Anyway, Margaret is part of the family.”

I smiled and hugged her, and she returned the embrace.

"I'm so glad you came," my mother said, approaching her and placing her hand on her waist. I couldn't have been more pleased.

"I am too, Victoria. Thank you for inviting me. You have a beautiful home," my mother looked at her gratefully.

"It's your home too, dear. You're more than welcome whenever you want to come," she smiled.

My mother was charming when she wanted to be.

I knew Margaret had lost her mother many years ago, and she might find in Victoria that maternal affection. I cleared my throat a bit, and they looked at each other with smiles.

"Hi, Mom, I'm glad to see you too, you know?" I dramatically placed my hand over my heart and pretended to be offended.

They laughed.

Victoria approached me, smiling, and unexpectedly hugged me, kissing my head. If it weren't for her, we wouldn't be here. I will never forget the day I was at her house, and she was sweet and kind to me, supporting me like she had never done before.

She even apologized for blaming me for Kira's death.

She squeezed my arm, and a feeling of warmth washed over me. She was my mother, and I loved her.

I felt her emotional; she had longed for a long time to hug me, but I wasn't ready. I just wanted everyone to stay away from me, but now it was different. From now on, I would let her do it whenever she wanted.

"I... I'm really glad to see you, Margaret," my father said, with a half-smile on his face.

He extended his hand, but Margaret approached and engulfed him in a tight hug.

"I'm glad to see you too, Mr. Ivanov," she said shyly but smiling.

"No need for mister, I'm Alexey, Margaret."

"Come in, we're just missing Yarik and his friend," they looked in our direction. "Hi, son," my father shook my hand and patted my back.

"Your wife is truly beautiful, congratulations," my father smiled, looking in the direction where Mom and Margaret went.

"Thank you, Dad. I've been very lucky," I said, thinking about how fantastic she is.

We entered the living room, where a few family friends were chatting animatedly. The whirlwind called Katia Ivanov went in search of Margaret.

"Hi, nice to see you again," she hugged her, "you look truly beautiful, sister-in-law. Now I understand why my brother proudly introduced you formally, you're the first girl he's brought home."

Why the hell did she say that?

"Katia, please," I rubbed my temples, "damn it."

"Pleased to see you again," Margaret said with a sweet smile.

"Come, would you like a martini? I made them," I sensed that I would see little of Margaret tonight.

"Um, no, thank you," she murmured timidly, "I prefer something non-alcoholic."

"Alright, I'll fix something," my sister said, pulling her arm.

"Sure, thank you," she could use some distraction, and who better than cheerful Katia.

Then she turned back, as if suddenly remembering I exist.

"Hi, little brother," she kissed my cheek. I was glad to see her; I had missed her.

She skipped over to Margaret, chatting cheerfully with her, and both laughing, probably at some joke they had made.

"We are delighted with her," my mother commented, looking proud.

I loved that my family took to Margaret so well. It warmed my heart to be able to bring her some joy and to make them proud of me, as I hadn't exactly been a model son.

I reached out my hand to my girl, who quickly came to my side. I hugged her and kissed her hair.

"You're a box of surprises, babe," she hugged me back. "You've managed to make my family love you.”