Page 108 of Pregnant Virgin of the Bratva

Not a prize. Not a compromise.

Just a life. One we made ourselves—through blood and fear and choice and quiet.

I still wake sometimes in the middle of the night and find him watching us.

I’ll roll onto my side to see him propped against the headboard, one hand on Liliana’s tiny back where she’s nestled between us, his other hand brushing my hair off my face.

He doesn’t always know I’m awake when he whispers.

“I hope you know,” he murmurs, a smile in his voice, “I’d do it all again. Every terrible thing, if it meant ending up here with you.”

I settle by his side, and watch the sky shift slowly from gold to rose.

Outside, the garden drinks in the last light of the day. The shadows stretch long across the grass, and the birch trees at the edge of the property whisper as the breeze stirs through their leaves. Somewhere nearby, a bird sings one last bright note before the hush of evening settles over everything.

I stand at the kitchen sink, rinsing the last of Liliana’s snack bowls while the soft clatter of the water echoes through the otherwise quiet house. Kion took her outside after dinner, said she was restless. I hear them through the open window—her laughter tumbling upward into the sky, light and unfiltered, and his lower voice chasing after it like a tether, anchoring it in place.

“Want to watch the sunset together?” I ask, and he grins.

Liliana yawns, her little hands coming up to grab at us, and I laugh.

“I guess she wants to watch too.”

I walk outside barefoot, down the stone steps and into the cool grass. The garden glows, all soft shadows and lavender haze. Kion stands near the birch, Liliana balanced against his chest, one small arm draped over his shoulder like she owns the world.

She babbles when she sees me, lifting one hand and pointing straight at me. Her curls are slightly damp at the edges,her cheeks pink from excitement, and her shirt is dotted with something that looks suspiciously like jam. Kion has a smear on his sleeve too, but neither of them seems to care.

He shifts her carefully, cradling her against one side, and reaches for my hand with the other.

I go to him without hesitation, slipping my fingers into his.

She reaches for me next, grabbing at my thumb and pulling my hand to her face, pressing it to her cheek with a sleepy grin.

Liliana starts babbling again, a string of nonsense syllables and half-formed words, her tone serious and her hands moving as if she’s trying to explain something deeply important. Kion nods as if he understands every word, his eyes soft as he listens to her.

I rest my head lightly against his shoulder and close my eyes.

The wind shifts through the trees again. The light dips lower. The whole garden seems to exhale.

And it hits me. This is what it feels like to be safe. Really, truly safe and happy.

Kion’s thumb moves gently over the back of my hand.

I open my eyes and look up at him. His gaze is already on me. There’s no question in it. He looks at me the way no one else ever has.

I realize… this is my forever.

I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

*****

THE END