Chapter 145 145

Chapter 145 145
“An hour?”

“Uri said he didn’t want to wait another day without making me his wife.”

“Damn!” she whistles. “That’s a good line. Okay, first thing’s first: gotta get my maid of honor hat on. Do you need me to do anything? Get anything before I come to the hospital?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Hit me. Anything. Say it and it’s yours. Food, makeup, even a—”

“I need a wedding dress.”

Elle just starts cackling. “That’s a lot of pressure, babe.”

“I trust you. There’s no one better to pick out my dress. Just keep in mind that I’m seven months pregnant.”

She lets out a long, weary breath. “Okay. I’m on it. I’m freaking out and I’m definitely gonna get ulcers, for which I’ll send you the hospital bill, but I’m on it. See you soon! Love you, Lys.”

I hang up to see Uri looking at me with an amused smirk. “She sounded excited. I could hear her screeching from across the room.”

“She was. She’s bringing over a dress for me to wear. I know this is a shotgun wedding and all, but I wanna look pretty.” I glance down at my big belly. “Well, as pretty as I can look with this massive stomach, anyway.”

He growls and that heat flashes in his eyes like bombs exploding. “If I had it my way, you’d get married in nothing at all, precisely so I could see you curvy with my kids, kiska.”

I blush every bit as hot as Uri’s eyes. “Don’t talk like that in public,” I mumble. “You’re going to make me do unreasonable things.”

He chuckles and takes my hand. “What about your parents? If you want them here, I can have a car pick them up.”

I cringe. In the hoopla and excitement of the last hour, I completely forgot about my parents. “Shit. Is it terrible that I didn’t even think about them?”

“Considering they’ve checked in on you only twice in the last eight months, I’d say it’s completely justified.”

I give him a grateful smile. “They don’t even know I’m pregnant,” I whisper. “I don’t think this is the right setting to introduce them to you. I’ll just tell them about it afterwards.”

“After we’re married? Or after the babies are delivered?” I frown. “One of those two. I’ll decide later.”

He’s chuckling again when the door flies open and Polly rushes in. “Oh my God! I can’t believe you guys are actually doing it. And in a freaking hospital, no less!” I hold my arms out and she rushes into them. “We’re going to be sisters now!”

I’ll admit, I feel a little aching tug at my heartstrings when she says that. Sister. I love Polly, of course. I just wish Ziva was here for this, too.

I disentangle myself from her and hold her at arm’s length. “Polly, will you do my makeup and hair?” “Of course!” she says excitedly.

This is the first time she’s looked and sounded like herself. Like she was before the kidnapping. It warms my heart to think that, in some small way, Uri and I have contributed to making her feel safe and calm and happy again. “But first,” Polly turns to her brother with a pointed expression, “you’ve got to go.”

“Go?” he says with a frown. “Why?”

“The groom can’t see the bride before the wedding, remember? And before you start off on your usual ‘blah, blah, I make my own rules because I’m so big and tough’ nonsense, don’t even bother. It’s tradition and we’re going to honor it. Now, scram.”

Laughing, Uri drops a kiss onto my forehead and heads out the door. Polly starts plucking stuff from her duffel bag, giving me a sneaky suspicion that she’d planned on getting me ready whether I asked her to or not.

“Where’s Lev, by the way?”

“In the chapel with Nikolai and Dimiv. He’s helping them get it ready. And by ‘help,’ I mean he’s sitting in the corner playing video games on his phone.”

“Is he going to be okay? Like, during the ceremony and stuff?”

“We’re not lighting any candles and it’s going to be a small ceremony, so he should be fine. Don’t worry about any of that, okay? This is your day. Let us take care of the rest.”

50

URI

“Well, I’ll be damned!” Dimiv exclaims when he walks into the transformed church chapel.

The place has undergone one hell of a facelift. What was once a bland, featureless room is now decked out in white roses and fairy lights strung across the ceiling like stars. It smells fresh, fragrant, and the air ripples with warmth. The cake that Nikolai ordered arrived a few minutes ago and is standing proudly on a stool in the corner. Two tiny figurines, a groom in a tuxedo and a blushing bride in a white gown, decorate the top.

It’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever seen.

It’s fucking perfect.

“I can’t believe it,” Dimiv muses. “My eternal bachelor of a cousin, getting married.”

I laugh, eyeing the bottle of vodka in his hand. “You were supposed to get the rings, you drunk bastard.”

He pulls out a tiny black pouch from his jacket pocket and hands it over. “I’ve always been good at multitasking. Two solid gold wedding bands and the perfect vodka to toast to.”

“I doubt we have time for a toast.”

He scoffs. “There’s always time for a toast. Especially to mark an auspicious occasion like this one. Where’s Nikolai? We can’t do this without him.”

“He’s bringing the officiant. They should be here soon.”

“Well, then fuck him,” he says with a devilish grin. “Let’s crack this baby open ourselves.”

He opens the bottle and pours out two shot glasses full of vodka. “Y’know, I always thought Nikolai would be the first to get hitched.”

“Yeah. That makes two of us.”

Dimiv lifts his glass into the air. “Well, to marriage in all its many forms. And all the twists and turns it brings. May your roller coaster be everything you want it to be.”

“What fortune cookie did you steal that from?” I taunt.

My cousin throws back his drink and immediately refills it. “Marriage made a poet of me,” he says with a wink. “Do you really think I’d have moved to goddamn Moscow for anyone else? Dagmara changed my whole world, my whole perspective on life. Our fathers liked to take the credit, but she made a man out of me.”

I roll my untouched drink between my fingers thoughtfully. “I used to think you were insane. Leaving the States, moving to Russia, all for a woman.”

Dimiv smirks. “And now?”

I pretend to consider it. “And now… I still think the exact same thing.”

He snorts with laughter. “Take it from a man who’s got nearly a decade of marriage under his belt: keep her happy. She’s always right and you’re always wrong. Happy wife; happy life. You remember that and you’ll stay married a long, long time.” It’s not bad advice per se; it’s just not for me. Fighting is the slippery slope that led me to this day, to this woman.

“Thanks, cousin. I’m glad you could be here for this.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He beams and rips back the second shot. “Now, I believe it is time for the groom to get ready.” He points toward the back pew. “Suit’s in the bag there. Private room is just a little ways down the hall. Go get pretty—but take it easy on the lipstick this time.”

Chuckling, I pat Dimiv on the shoulder, grab my suit, and duck into the private room that overlooks the hospital’s manicured gardens. I stare out the window as I get dressed, trying to wrap my head around the surrealness of this moment. I’m getting dressed for my wedding. I’m going to get married. An hour from now, I’m going to have a wife.

It’s not something I ever thought I wanted before Alyssa.

When I step back into the chapel, I see Dimiv at the pulpit chatting animatedly with the officiant who’s going to marry us. I swear my cousin could talk the ear off a statue. I leave him to the schmoozing and turn to Nikolai, who’s just appeared in the doorway of the chapel.

“Took you long enough,” I say when I walk up to him. “Where were you?”

“Just checking on the bride. She looks phenomenal.”

He’d seen her already? In her dress? That irks me. But I’m willing to be charitable today. After all, it is my wedding day.

“Is everything good to go?”

Nikolai nods. “Yeah. Got the papers right here. We’re going legal with this shit.”

I smile. “By the way—you’re my best man.”

“Yeah?”

I slap him on the arm. “Who else?”

We embrace, clapping each other on the back at the same time. Nikolai even looks a little teary-eyed as he turns towards the pulpit, that sentimental bastard. “I’ll send Polly a text, tell her that we’re—”

Before he can finish his sentence, the doors burst open and Polly appears. Problem is, she’s out of breath and wide-eyed. I’m on edge immediately.

“Pol! What’s wrong? Is it Alyssa? The babies?”

“Um, I don’t know exactly. Alyssa wants to speak to you.”