Deceitful Vows (Marital Privileges #2)

67. Zoya

67

ZOYA

“ G ood morning.”

I wait for the middle-aged blonde woman to acknowledge my greeting, before tiptoeing into Zakhar’s room. He’s awake—barely. I don’t believe his exhaustion is of choice. He’s so unwell that doing something as simple as keeping his eyelids open is exhausting.

Hope that everything isn’t as bad as it seems rains down on me when Zakhar’s nanny says, “Don’t expect much of a response from him. He only responds to candy. Don’t you, Zak?” She tickles his ribs, sending his boyish laugh bouncing around the room.

When I laugh, Zakhar’s joyful eyes shift to me. He stares at me with his head tilted to the side and his lips quirked for several long seconds before he drops his focus to my pockets. “Do you have any sweets?”

“I don’t.” When he pouts, I quickly add, “I could get you some.”

His smile blurs when he nods fast.

“Let me,” offers the nanny. “I’m dying for some caffeine.” She twists to face me. “You?”

I nod as eagerly as Zakhar. “Please.”

She smiles in acknowledgement before telling Zakhar she will be back in a minute. “Take care of our guest for me, okay? Her reception was a little frosty yesterday, so you need to be extra nice to her.” She squeezes my hand on the way out, then exits, closing the door behind her.

I stop staring at the medical equipment monitoring Zakhar’s stats when he says, “I think Anoushka likes you. You must have good karma.”

“You know what karma is?”

Brown locks bounce in all directions when he bobs his chin. “Mommy says it is when someone is a good person so they’re pre…pre… predes?—”

“Predestined?”

Again, he nods. “Predestined for greatness.” A fondness twinkles in his eyes. “That’s why I was born. I was put into my mommy’s tummy because I am pre…pre?—”

“Predestined,” I fill in again.

He doesn’t bother repeating the word too large for his vocabulary. “Mommy says I was born to do great things. That I will restore the rightful order.” I sit on the edge of his bed and hold his tiny hand in mine when he murmurs, “I just have to get better first.”

Since this is the first time I’ve sat across from a child since Aleena was little, I’m stunned by the swiftness of the change in our conversation. I forgot anyone under the age of ten can go from heartbreak to euphoria in half a second.

“Once I am better, I’m going to learn to fly a helicopter like my dad. Then I won’t have to use my legs anymore. I can fly everywhere. I might even go see my mommy. Do you want to come with me?”

“Um. Sure. Do you think your mom will be okay with that?”

“I think so. She doesn’t get to do it very often, but she loves meeting new people.” I smile when he murmurs, “She looks a lot like you.” The fact Andrik picked Aleena from a selection of many pre-approved brides verifies he has a type, so I’m not surprised by Zakhar’s confession.

I can’t say the same when he continues. “Except she has lines here.” He drags his tiny finger over the corner of my eye before moving them to my forehead. “And here.” I laugh when he chokes out with a laugh, “And she has tinsel in her hair even when it’s not Christmas.” He chuckles so loud the monitors at the side of his bed sound an alarm. “She thinks they make her not pretty, but that isn’t true. She is very pretty. She is as beautiful as you.”

“Thank you, Zak,” I murmur when his cheeks inflame at the end of his underhanded compliment. “You’re very handsome as well. I bet your mommy tells you that all the time too.”

“She does,” he agrees, nodding softly. “But it doesn’t count when it comes from her. Mommies are biased.” He struggles over his last word.

“Sometimes they are,” I say, deepening the groove between his brows. “But your mom isn’t. You’re the most handsomest little boy I’ve ever seen.”

As the heat across his cheeks grows, he asks, “Does that mean you want to be my girlfriend?”

My heart thuds in my ears as I strive to think of a reply. “Ah…”

“I won’t be mad if you want to be my girlfriend, but I might have to check with Daddy first. He likes you more than he likes Anoushka.” Before I can correct him, he continues. “He’s just confused because everyone keeps saying bad things about you.” He folds his arms over his chest and sinks back. “I guess you were right. Not all mommies are biased. Yours isn’t very nice. She says bad things about you all the time, and she makes my mommy cry.”

I spread my hand over my chest. “My mom made your mom cry?”

Little tears nearly topple from his eyes when he nods. “She told her that she’s not a real mom. That she’s an incuemabator.”

I don’t need to correct him on his last word. The devastation in his eyes tells the story he’s desperate to share without the need for translation.

My first thought is to seek immediate answers to my mother’s involvement in his conception, but there’s something far more important demanding my focus right now.

“How many times has your mom told you she loves you, Zak?”

His face lights up. “At least a trillion times.”

“A trillion?” My mouth gapes and I adopt a shocked face. “I thought maybe a million, but a trillion? No way! That’s crazy.”

The pain in his eyes shifts to adoration. “That’s how much she loves me. She tells me all the time.”

“She must be the best mommy.”

“She is,” he agrees. “She is the best mommy in the entire world.”

“Because she is your mommy, Zak. That’s what makes her the best mommy.”

His smile makes my heart feel whole for the first time in years, and it will free me to exit his room minus the guilt that saw me entering it. I just need a little more time to relish his gooey goodness before instigating a battle hotter than hell.

“He is the sweetest.”

Anoushka smiles fondly at Zakhar while tracing my steps to the door. I was only meant to visit for thirty minutes. I spent the entire day with him. “He is. And he has certainly taken an instant liking to you. You have a fan for life.”

My chest sinks. “I doubt he’ll feel the same when he learns how badly I stuffed things up for him yesterday.”

Anoushka hands Zak’s care over to a pediatrician before guiding me into the hallway. “There is still time to fix that, Zoya.”

“How?” I ask, lost. “I married a man I’m meant to hate but don’t because I thought it was the right thing to do. It caused more issues.” I breathe out slowly. When it does little to weaken my confusion, I offload it onto Anoushka. “I’m sailing blind. I need help. Help Andrik doesn’t seem willing to give. Look at how he avoided Zak’s room today. He hates me so much he doesn’t even want to share the same air as me.”

“That’s not true. He’s just confused.” Her eyes flick up to a camera dangling above us before she moves our conversation down the hallway. “If you want to help him, you need to appease the people controlling both his emotions and actions.”

I fan my arms out. Did she miss the part when I said I married a man I’m meant to hate? “I’ve done everything I can. I have no other way to assuage them.”

I balk, startled when she whispers, “You could get pregnant for real.”

“Whatever do you mean? I am pregnant.” And suddenly the worst liar in the world.

Anoushka rolls her eyes, lowering the age bracket I placed her in from sixties to fifties. “Mr. Dokovic is a shrewd, ruthless man, but he is old school. He would have completely skipped over your friend’s confession that she gave you fertility treatment. The federation is far more observant. They would have canceled Zakhar’s operation purely on speculation that you lied. If you prove to them that you meant no malice with an actual pregnancy, they will reschedule his transplant.”

Hope dissipates before I can latch on to it. “I wish I could do that, but I can’t. For one, Andrik looks at me as if I am mud under his boot.” When she attempts to interrupt me, I talk faster, too hurt to remain quiet. “And two, I can’t physically get pregnant. I’m… I’m infertile.”

She looks genuinely devastated for me, though it only halts her campaign for half a second. “There are ways you can still get pregnant. Mikhail’s mother did IVF many years ago. With modern advancements, I’m sure you have options.”

“I do, but they take time. That isn’t in our favor. Even now, IVF can stretch from two to twelve weeks. You have consultation appointments, the commencement of treatment, ovulation stimulation, trigger injections, and then the egg retrieval. It isn’t as easy as it sounds.”

My senses smack back into me ten seconds too late.

I blubber when I’m snowed under, and that was a doozy.

Hating Anoushka’s shocked expression, I attempt to smooth it over. “I was extremely hungry, young, and desperate.” Nothing but shame resonates in my tone. “I also figured if I had no use for my eggs, why not give them to someone who needed them?” My exhale ruffles Anoushka’s hair. “I never saw them as my children. I just saw them as my failures.”

Anoushka gathers my hand in hers and squeezes it. “Was the option of egg retrieval never given to you when you were diagnosed as infertile?”

My headshake is weak. I don’t want more stupid tears to fall. “No. It was never discussed because I never gave any indication to Dr. Hemway that I was interested in having children.”

“That didn’t change as you got older?”

“It did, but…” Over constantly taking the easy way out, I murmur, “But I would have had to show up to appointments for him to know that.” I stray my eyes to Zakhar’s bedroom door. “I also never really thought about it until now. An hour with Zakhar has me craving things I’ve never wanted.”

As did every minute I spent with Andrik , though I keep that snippet of information to myself.

I often dreamed over the past several months how different our relationship could have been if he hadn’t learned I was infertile. Would he have picked me? Would he have asked for my help to get the answers he was seeking? I want to say nothing would have changed, but my ego won’t allow me.

We had a connection ferocious enough to scald anyone within a five-mile radius of it.

It just burned out far sooner than I had predicted.

“I think I might go lie down. I’m feeling a little woozy. I didn’t sleep much last night. With the wedding, and then the…” I hook my thumb to Zak’s door. “I’m exhausted.” It is more an emotional exhaustion than physical, but once again, that can remain between us.

Anoushka smiles gently, soundlessly announcing she is aware of the cause of my tiredness. “Do you want me to wake you for dinner?”

“No, that’s fine. I’m not hungry.” I walk partway down the hall so she won’t see my cowardly face when I say, “If you see Andrik before me, can you tell him my mother knows Zakhar’s mother? They’ve met previously. Perhaps more than once.”

Anoushka’s shocked huff rustles in my ears before she murmurs, “I think he’d rather hear it from you.”

This kills me to say, but it is honest. “He will believe it more if it comes from you. I’m not exactly deserving of his faith right now.”

“And you think he is worthy of yours?” She waits for me to face her before saying, “He’s lied too, but that doesn’t mean either of you are unworthy of forgiveness.” Her eyes glisten. “You just need to forgive yourselves first because that guilt is the only thing holding you both back right now.”