Page 102 of Cruel Juliet

He smirks. “And deal with Kira again full-time? You sure that’s good for my health?”

“She loves you, you idiot.”

“I know.” He chuckles weakly. “I just like giving her a reason to yell.”

For a moment, I see my brother again. Whole, steady, sharp. The man he used to be.

It’s more than I expected. It’s Dimitri, my brother, alive.

It’shope.

40

SIMA

Days and weeks melt into each other. Feeding, rocking, changing. Petyr and I spend nearly all of it together, orbiting around Lilia like she’s the sun that keeps us alive.

It’s quiet. Peaceful.

Too peaceful.

I’ve never been this happy. Which is exactly why I don’t trust it.

Petyr takes the mornings with her. He brings her downstairs in his arms, hair still damp from the shower, and walks slow laps around the kitchen while Anya fusses over breakfast.

He talks to her in Russian, low and serious, like she’s one of his men getting a mission briefing. It’s hilarious to watch.

But then Lilia stares at him like he’s the only person in the world, and all the humor fades into something much warmer.

Watching them together does something strange to me. It’s a softness I never thought I’d see from him. Fromus.

At night, he stays beside me while I feed her. Sometimes, he falls asleep in the chair, still wearing his shirt from the day, one hand draped over the armrest. Like he’s standing guard, even in his dreams.

I tease him about it, but deep down, it makes me feel safe.

It’s everything I thought I’d never have. All I ever dreamed of having, really, wrapped up in the wonderful bundle in my arms.

That makes it impossible to relax.

I’m sure my therapist would have plenty to say about that. Self-fulfilling prophecy, rumination, what have you.

But joke’s on her, because I don’t have a therapist. And an imaginary therapist can’t stare at me judgmentally from across the room or tell me off for my superstitious behaviors.

Take that, Dr. Whatsherface.

Except that it’s not really a victory. Because this attitude of mine? It’s souring everything around me.

Every time I laugh, I wait for something to ruin it. Every time Petyr cracks one of his rare smiles, I brace for the moment it fades. It’s like I’ve been conditioned to expect the world to take things from me the second I start to love them.

I tell myself to stop thinking like that. To just live in the moment. But the unease is always there, a quiet hum under the happiness.

Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night and check the nursery just to make sure Lilia is still breathing. Other times, I catch myself staring at Petyr across the breakfast table, wondering if this peace is real or if we’re just pretending.

Almost two months pass like that.

The only break from the routine is my weekly check-up. Luka drives me, which is a welcome respite from the stuffiness of the mansion. Ever since we patched things up, he’s become indispensable to my continued mental health. The golden retriever bodyguard to my black cat mommy doom.

I hadn’t realized how badly I missed having a friend around.