Chapter 157 Chapter 157 Vacation
It took me a full two days to get the hang of everything. By the end of it, my hands were sore, my back ached, and I smelled permanently like hay and animals—but I could do it. I can do this. The question that lingers, the one I keep pushing to the back of my mind, is whether I can do it with a baby. That answer is still out for the jury.
I wake up before the sun rises, when the sky is still a dull shade of blue-gray and the air bites at my skin. The mornings are the hardest, but also the most peaceful. I gather eggs first, careful not to crack them, then move on to the cows, milking them slowly, getting used to the rhythm. After that, I check on the pigs, feed them, clean up after all the animals. It’s constant work—dirty, repetitive, grounding. Then Maria and I move to the garden, ripping weeds out of the soil. Every single day new ones grow, stubborn and relentless. We pick fresh fruit when it’s ready, filling baskets until our arms ache.
By the time I shower, the sun is fully up, and I feel like I’ve already lived half a day. I cook food for the rest of it—simple meals, nothing extravagant, but enough.
Maria was pleasantly surprised at how quickly I adapted. I think she expected me to give up after the first morning, to complain, to act like a spoiled city girl. Instead, we went to the market together, picking up things we couldn’t grow or raise ourselves. So far, so good. I’m settling in faster than I expected.
I will need a car eventually. The isolation is nice, but not practical long-term. Maybe I can buy one in Sofia once I decide to move here permanently.
The villa is more modern than it looks. We have indoor plumbing, electricity—small luxuries that make a huge difference. Atanas told me I can set up satellite internet if I want, but I’d need to contact the company in town before I leave. There’s no cell reception here, and honestly, the silence has been amazing. No constant buzzing, no messages, no calls. Just quiet.
Without my grandmother’s money, none of this would be possible. That truth sits heavy sometimes. So many young people leave places like this, chasing opportunities in big cities or even outside the country just to earn a decent wage. And here I am, choosing to come back, to live this life comfortably. It’s a privileged life, one I take for granted more often than I should. The freedom that comes with my father’s indifference is another kind of luxury—he doesn’t interfere, doesn’t care enough to control me.
Somehow, all of it almost makes the pain and heartbreak worth it.
Tonight, I walk through the forest, about fifteen minutes from the villa, following a path I barely remember. It leads to the hot spring pond—though calling it a pond feels wrong. It’s more like a lake. I don’t remember the property being this big, this expansive, like it stretches endlessly into the trees.
The water laps softly against the shore. Owls call from somewhere above, their sounds echoing through the darkness. The moonlight filters through the branches just right, casting silver reflections across the surface.
I strip out of my clothes slowly, leaving them in a small pile near the edge. The air is cold against my bare skin, making me shiver before I even touch the water. I step in carefully, inch by inch, until it reaches my knees, then my thighs. The contrast is immediate—the water is hot, almost too hot at first, steam rising faintly from the surface.
I push forward and swim out, about ten feet in, letting my body float. The cold mountain air kisses my exposed shoulders, raising goosebumps, while the rest of me sinks into warmth. It’s disorienting, but calming.
The silence is almost eerie.
And yet, I feel at peace.
Someone clears their throat.
I jerk slightly, instinctively sinking deeper into the water. My eyes adjust to the darkness, and I make out a figure at the shore.
Atanas.
“You are not pregnant,” he says bluntly. “Why did you lie?”
“I am not,” I reply, holding his gaze. “I’m adopting.”
“Are you really dating the Pavlov playboy?”
“It’s complicated.” That’s the only answer I have.
He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he starts undressing. His shirt comes off first, then his hands move to his jeans. The zipper slides down, loud in the quiet. He steps out of them, and I don’t look away. I should, but I don’t.
Atanas slides his boxers down slowly—too slowly. My throat tightens as I watch. What hangs between his legs is… impressive. There’s no other word for it. His body is sculpted, sharp lines and hard muscle, something almost unreal about it.
And yet, all I can think about is how much I miss Nick’s body. Softer. Warmer. Real in a way this isn’t. Comforting.
I would have brought him here.
I miss him.
“So then, you are single?” Atanas asks, stepping into the water, pulling me back to the present. He’s only a few feet away now.
“Not exactly… honestly, I don’t know,” I admit. “There’s too much drama. Too many things I need to figure out.” I pause, watching him move closer. “I’m not looking for a hookup, if that’s what you have in mind. I came here to get away from all that, not to add to my mess.”
He dips under the water, then surfaces, slicking his hair back. His eyes stay locked on mine, intense, like he’s trying to read something deeper.
He doesn’t know shit about me.
I splash water at him. He laughs.
“I was thinking I want to fucking rock your world for one night, under the moon,” he says, licking his lips slowly, deliberately. My thighs press together without thinking.
Fuck it.
I’m going to show him exactly who he thinks he’s dealing with.
“Do you speak English?” I ask.
He nods.
“I am in a throuple with Ivan and his half-brother Dimitri,” I say evenly. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He nods again, but this time there’s something darker in his expression, a sinister smile tugging at his lips.
“You think I can’t handle a girl like you?” he asks, his lips twisting into a cocky grin.
Before I can react, his hand wraps around my ankle, pulling me toward him until our bodies are flush together under the water.
Heat floods through me instantly. My body betrays me, responding before my mind can catch up. I can feel how hard he is, how big, pressing against me.
His hands slide over my skin, settling at my hips.
“I’m sure you think you can,” I say, my voice steady despite everything. “But unless you want to lose a hand, you will release me.”