Broken Whispers (Perfectly Imperfect #2)(35)

After she is done listing the materials, some of the parents gather to discuss the kids, but Mikhail and I stay in the back and wait until the crowd dissipates. As we approach the teacher, I let my arm fall away from Mikhail’s waist, and decide to stay a few steps back. It doesn’t feel right to butt in.

“Mr. Orlov,” the teacher says in a sugary voice. “We haven’t seen you for quite some time.”

She is pretty, in her early thirties, and based on the huge grin on her face, she really likes my husband.

“How is Lena doing? Any problems?” Mikhail asks, ignoring her comment.

“Oh, Lena is a wonderful child, so well-behaved. You are doing such a great job with her.” She bats her lashes at him like a lovesick schoolgirl, and my vision goes red. I cover the few feet that separate me from them in two seconds, wrap my hand around Mikhail’s waist again, and smile.

Mikhail’s arm comes around my back. “Miss Lewis,” he says, “This is Bianca. My wife.”

I can’t remember the last time I felt as much satisfaction as I do now, watching her eyes go as wide as saucers. That’s right, bitch. He is taken. As you should have already deduced yourself.

“If that’s all, we should go. Lena is waiting for us in the hall.” Mikhail nods toward the door.

“Yes, of course.”

As we are leaving, I throw a look over my shoulder to find the teacher watching us. Without moving my eyes from hers, I slide my hand from Mikhail’s lower back down until it lands on his rock-hard ass, and I can’t resist squeezing just a little.

When we exit into the hallway, Mikhail bends to whisper in my ear. “Did you just squeeze my ass?”

“Maybe,” I mouth and do it again.

“Daddy, Daddy!” Lena hops up from the little bench on our right and runs to jump into Mikhail’s arms. “Can we go buy my parakeet now, Daddy?

Mikhail sighs and kisses her forehead. “Yes.”

We drop by the pet store on the way home, and Lena chooses a little blue parakeet. While Mikhail asks the store attendant for the guidelines on feeding, Lena and I go to the rack on the left to pick up some bird toys. The door to the store opens and two boys Lena’s age rush inside, followed by their mother, and run toward the fish tanks displayed on the wall.

“Mommy, I want a goldfish!” one of the boys yells.

“I don’t want a goldfish. I want a black one, like Batman!” the other exclaims. “Goldfish are for girls.”

They are still fighting over the fish when we leave the store, and as we walk toward the car, I look down at Lena, who had suddenly gone unusually quiet. I expected her to be excited, but she doesn’t say a word while Mikhail places the cage with the bird in the backseat, and straps Lena into her car seat. It’s strange, she usually babbles nonstop.

When we’re all inside and Mikhail reaches to start the car, Lena finally speaks. “Daddy? Where is my mommy?”

Mikhail’s hand stills with the keys midway to the ignition. He takes a deep breath, then turns and takes her small hand in his. “Your mommy is with the angels now, zayka.”

“Why?”

“She . . . she was sick, Lenochka.”

“Like Charley’s daddy?”

“Yes, zayka. Like Charley’s daddy.”

I reach over and place my hand on Mikhail’s thigh. This is hard for him. I see it in the way he is squeezing the wheel with his other hand, his knuckles white from the strain.

Lena cocks her head to the side, looks at me for a moment, and turns to Mikhail. “Charley has a new daddy now. Is Bianca my new mommy?”

My breath catches, and at the same time, I feel Mikhail’s body going stone still under my hand. We never talked about what Lena will be calling me. I assumed it would be Bianca but haven’t counted on the fact that she is too young to understand. Based on the slightly panicked expression on Mikhail’s face, he wasn’t expecting this either. We should have, though.

“You remember when we talked about this? That Daddy and Bianca were getting married, and we would all be living together?”

“Yes, Daddy. Charley’s new daddy is also living with them.”

We should have assumed that “Daddy’s wife” might equal “Mommy” for her. I’ve always wanted children, but it seemed like something that wouldn’t come so soon. I don't think I would mind if Lena starts to call me Mom. I consider for a moment. No, I wouldn’t mind it at all. In fact, I like that idea. If Mikhail is okay with it, of course.

“Well, Lenochka, it’s . . .” Mikhail starts, but I squeeze his thigh and he turns to me.

“You can say yes. If it’s alright with you.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me. Maybe he doesn’t like the idea of Lena considering me her new mom. That realization hurts, but I make sure it doesn’t show on my face.

“You don’t have to. I just . . .” I sigh. “It’s okay. We can try explaining it to her.”

Mikhail reaches out with his hand, cups my cheek, and leans forward. “Lena never talked about her mother, and I…”—he closes his eye and curses—“I fucked up. I thought she understood. She is too young. I should have tried to explain things better. You and I should have talked first. I can’t ask this of you, Bianca.”