42

“What do you mean, we will live here?” I blink at the Yartsevs. “I have my own home, a job, duties, responsibilities. I can’t just drop everything to suddenly be your guest.”

“Oh, Vicky,” Nazar cuts in cheerfully, as if amused by the situation. “You don’t have anything anymore. You’re not going to be guests here. You and the kids will stay here with my father and brother, forever.”

“Shut up!” Kirill barks, shooting an angry glare at his twin.

“What do you mean, forever?” I look at Yartsev Sr. in horror, and my heart drops somewhere into my stomach.

“Just that. My grandchildren will not grow up somewhere on the side and in secret from everyone,” Mr. Yartsev states strictly. “You and Kirill will create a full family, a unit of society, get married, and live together.”

To say I was shocked by these words is to say nothing! My head simply couldn’t contain everything that was happening.

“What wedding, for hell’s sake?!” I snap, and Nazar chuckles merrily, watching the unfolding show. “To raise children together, parents don’t have to live together! We can’t even stand each other! We literally don’t even know each other!”

“Well, then you’ll get to know each other! You two should have thought about that earlier! Now it is what it is!” the grandfather of my children insists, and I realize how difficult and stubborn a person he is. “And the rest will come — you’ll get used to each other, you’ll grow to love each other, but already in an official marriage.”

“This is absurd,” I stare at the men in disbelief. “How can you build a family without warm feelings in it? Children aren’t glue for a marriage! Kirill,” I turn my gaze to the man with a hint of hope, “why do you need this? Say something! This is utter nonsense!”

“This is the right thing to do,” he cuts off angrily, but I can see that he himself is not thrilled about the situation. This marriage is the last thing he needs… and so are we together.

“No. I don’t agree to this,” I say firmly, shaking my head. “Nothing will come of it. It even sounds ridiculous.”

“If I were you, I’d think it over carefully,” Oleg says in a steel tone, and unpleasant chills run down my back. “If you don’t want it the easy way, I can force you. If you want to be near the children, there will be a marriage. If not, then my lawyers will easily take the children from you and even put a restraining order on you.”

"What?..." I ask, gasping for breath, though I heard everything perfectly well. At those words, all the blood drained from my face and my heart. I suddenly had catastrophically little air and it became hard to breathe. My children are the most precious thing in my life and if they are torn away from me, I will simply lose my mind!

I try to gulp air with my mouth, but it doesn’t work. The inhale feels as if it gets stuck somewhere in my trachea and the oxygen doesn’t reach my lungs. I feel like I’m drowning and can’t surface. Desperately, I try to cope with the panic and despair, but it doesn’t work.

I hear voices, without making them out, as if through some layer of sound insulation. And the last thing I remember before the engulfing darkness is the crying of my boys and Valentina’s worried face.