Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
I only hum, not wanting to hint that I’m carrying her first grandchild. That would be one hell of an awkward conversation.
Another time, she asked me, “Are all men this age as dense as my boys? Or am I just cursed?”
“Trust me, it’s all men,” I say, laughing.
“Is that why someone as pretty as you is still single?” she asked out of nowhere. “In my day, a girl as stunning and accomplished as you would be snatched up.”
“And I’d probably never have to work a day in my life.” I sighed wistfully. “But then I wouldn’t get to take care of you.”
“That’s true,” she conceded. “Your singleness is very much to my advantage.”
Liliya and I get along well, and that’s made the job all the better. I go make sure she’s comfortable and has her tea. She’s tired today, and tells me she just wants to rest this morning.
“That’s fine, Liliya,” I tell her. “But that means we’re really going to have to whip you into shape in this afternoon’s physical therapy session.”
“My darling, no one has whipped me in a very long time,” she teases, sending me into a fit of giggles.
With her sons out of earshot, she can get a little raunchy.
I leave her to rest and wander toward the sitting room near the back of the house that overlooks the garden. A tray of fresh fruit and delicate pastries waits on the table, courtesy of the chef. I snag a handful of berries, slide the glass door open, and step outside.
The dew clings to the petals like diamonds, and the air is crisp, cool, and alive with birdsong. Since my first day, I’ve made it a habit to walk the garden every morning and every night. I pull my cardigan tighter around me as I head down one of the winding paths, gravel crunching beneath my flats.
I fish out my phone and hit dial.
Mia answers on the second ring, her voice still thick with sleep. “Nic?”
“Hey, sorry,” I quickly apologize as I hear her tired voice. “Did I wake you?”
There’s a rustle on the other end.
“Nah, I was already up. Kind of. What’s going on?”
“Just checking in,” I say, smiling softly. “I know you’ll send in a SEAL team if I don’t check in once a day.”
“Damn right,” she responds. “Have you gotten sick of your fairytale life yet?”
“Not quite yet,” I say, though I can’t imagine ever getting tired of this. “Although today there was only a tray of pastries, not a full spread. I’m really suffering here.”
“Hardy har har,” she mocks. “You’ve become quite the princess.”
“I’m only half joking when I say I might never return to real life.”
She hums. “And how’s the baby-daddy situation?”
I pause, glancing toward the hedges in the distance. “Complicated.”
“That sounds like code for hot and heavy sexual tension.”
I snort. “It’s not that. But, truthfully, it would be nice if I could see him for more than five minutes.”
“What’s meant to be will be,” she says wisely. “At least that’s what the wrapper on this piece of chocolate just told me.”
I laugh and we fall into an easy conversation for a while before she tells me she needs to get up and get ready for her shift. We say our goodbyes, and I tuck the phone back into my pocket, resuming my slow stroll.
After my walk, I check on Liliya again. She’s snoozing softly but seems a bit uncomfortable, so I fluff the pillows behind her head, adjusting them gently until she sighs in relief and rests more comfortably.
I notice her hands are dry, so I massage rosewater lotion into her skin until it’s silky again. She stirs and opens her eyes, smiling when she sees me standing over her.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, perching on the edge of the chair beside her bed. I’ve already checked her vitals and updated her chart, but I like to hear it in her own words.
She lifts one shoulder in a slow shrug. “Still tired,” she admits, her Russian accent soft and lyrical. “But less dizzy. My fingers are not shaking as much this morning.”
“That’s great.” I smile, genuinely relieved. “That means the meds are doing their job, and your body is adjusting. We’re on the right track.”
Liliya nods, her eyes scanning my face.
“And you, darling? Are you adjusting, too?”
I let out a breathless laugh and lean back in the chair. “It’s a big change, but I’ve settled in. I’m still getting used to the size of the house, though.”
She chuckles, a low sound that still carries some rasp from her stroke. “Even after all these years, sometimes I forget how many rooms we have until I get lost in a hallway.”
I grin. “I believe it. I still feel like I need a map every time I try to find the kitchen.”
She hums again, studying me carefully, and there’s something knowing in her expression that makes me shift a little in my seat. Her mind is sharp, perceptive in a way that misses nothing. From her stories, I know she was watching her boys like a hawk for most of their lives, and that instinct hasn’t faded.