Page 98 of Scarlet Chains
“You’re sure?” I know it’s not like her but I can’t help wondering if this is some sort of prank.
She laughs, bright and delighted and touched with wonder that comes from miracles made manifest. “I have ultrasound pictures in my purse. Very early, but definitely there. Due sometime in early spring.”
Spring.
New life emerging from winter’s end, hope taking root in soil that seemed permanently barren. The poetry of it makes my chest tighten with emotion too large for words.
“Nash rebenok,” I whisper.Our baby.I can’t believe I’m saying it again.
“Nash rebenok,” she confirms, and the way she says it— with such complete certainty and joy— makes something I thought was permanently broken heal with miraculous speed.
“But wait,” I say, as something occurs to me. “Yesterday. The wedding. You were drinking champagne.”
She shakes her head, grinning. “Sparkling water. You really should pay more attention to these things, husband.”
My lips twitch in response, “I have a sneaky wife. I’d better keep a closer eye on her.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she murmurs, and I know we’re not talking about champagne anymore.
Bozhe moy.
How does this get any better?
I pull her closer, burying my face in her hair and breathing in the reality of what she’s telling me. Slava and Eszter, the children we saved and who saved us in return. And now this— this child born from the ashes of everything we’ve survived, proof that some stories do get the endings they deserve.
“Are you happy?” she asks, though she must feel the answer in how my arms tighten around her, in the slight tremor running through my entire frame.
“Da,” I hear myself choking out the word. “More than happy,milaya.” I pull back far enough to see her face, to memorize this moment when our family became complete in ways I’d never dared imagine. “Terrified, overwhelmed, grateful beyond words— but happy doesn’t even scratch the surface.”
She kisses me then, soft and sweet and tasting like promises kept and futures worth fighting for. Around us, The Scarlet Fox Budapest holds our shared secrets like sacred trust, this space where past and present aligned to create something beautiful and lasting and entirely ours.
“Good,” she whispers. “Because I’m happy too.”
When we finally emerge from our private sanctuary, the late afternoon sun is beginning to set. The city spreads below us like a kingdom we’ve claimed through love and determination and the kind of stubborn hope that refuses to accept defeat.
“So,” Ilona says as we walk hand in hand toward the car, her other hand unconsciously cradling her stomach where our future is taking root, “when do I start work at my new restaurant?”
The question makes me laugh, bright and startled and touched with the kind of joy that feels too large for any one person to contain. “Whenever you want,moya zhena. We have all the time in the world to figure out the details.”
All the time in the world.
The phrase echoes in my mind as we drive home through streets that feel transformed by possibility. To build our family business, raise our children, and write the kind of love story thatproves sometimes the most broken people can create the most beautiful things.
At home, we’re greeted by the mild madness that’s become our new normal. Slava runs toward us on toddler legs that carry more enthusiasm than coordination, babbling about dinosaur pancakes and songs Grandma Judit taught him while we were gone.
Eszter sleeps peacefully in her carrier, blissfully unaware that her family just grew by one more, that the future holds siblings and laughter and the kind of stability that comes from being loved without condition.
Judit sits in the garden where we were married just yesterday, her face bright with health that comes from successful treatment and the kind of happiness that radiates from watching your daughter find the life she deserves.
“How was your surprise?” she asks when we join her on the terrace, though something in her expression suggests she already knows the answer.
“Perfect,” Ilona says, settling beside her with Slava immediately climbing into her lap like a cat seeking warmth. “Absolutely perfect.”
I take Eszter from her carrier, marveling at how her tiny fingers immediately curl around mine with strength that speaks to her determination to hold onto everything good in her small world. Soon, she’ll have a sibling to teach and protect, another member of this unlikely family we’ve built from rescue and choice and love.
The future stretches ahead of us, bright with possibility and grounded in the kind of certainty that comes from surviving the worst and choosing to build something beautiful from the wreckage. The Scarlet Fox Budapest will flourish under Ilona’s care, becoming a place where other people’s stories begin and unfold. Our children will grow up surrounded by love andprotection and knowledge that some fairy tales do come true, even for people who started in the darkest places.
And somewhere in the distance, I can almost hear whispered approval of those we’ve lost— Igor, despite everything that stood between us; Galina, who would have wanted me to find this kind of happiness; even my parents, who dreamed of grandchildren they’d never meet but whose love echoes in every choice I make to protect what matters most.
The sun sets over Budapest like a blessing. Tomorrow will bring new challenges, new joys, new moments to add to the collection of memories we’re building together.
But tonight, we’re complete. The family that chose each other, the love that conquered impossible odds, the future that stretches ahead like an open road leading toward every good thing we’ve ever dared to dream.
Segodnya my doma.
Tonight, we’re home.
THE END