Page 111 of You + Me – Against the World

Vadim sighs.

We continue to imagine our future, but end up arguing because he wants to give our children Russian names.

“Pavel or Nikita for a boy. And I really like Anastasia for a girl. Or Yana, the Slavic version of Jane, my mother’s name.”

“And do I get a say in this?”

“They can take your last name if you want. Mine doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t care whether I pass it on or not.”

“You’re being a bit selfish, Vadim Arcadi. You’re acting like a dictator.”

“And you’re being name-ist, Princess Lancaster of England.”

I pretend I’m about to storm off in a huff, and he holds me back, pinning me to the floor. He kisses me, gently bites my neck, and whispers sweet words in my ear that he can’t say out loud.

“You can name our baby whatever you want, seeing as I’ll be the happiest man in the world the day you have my child. And anyway, I don’t think I’ll be able to think straight if our little girl glares at me with the same dark look as you, just because we brought her into the world without asking for her opinion first.”

It blows me away to picture myself on that day, with him and her—the baby I already love.

“But… if it’s a boy, I wouldn’t mind Vadim Junior,” he teases me, just to keep the real emotions at bay.

I hit him on the shoulder, and at that exact moment, three discreet knocks sound at the door. Vadim tells me not to move, then goes to open it. I can’t quite hear what is being said, but the murmuring voices leave me feeling uneasy.

Quietly, I approach the entryway. She’s standing on the threshold. I look her up and down: high heels, bare legs, amber skin… and next to no nothing covering it—just some sort of camel suede trench coat hanging open to reveal her perfect body. Black lace panties, more skin, a black push-up bra, still more skin, long, black hair swept to one side, and finally, Cheyenne’s face. It’s the first time I find myself face to face with her. And the shock of it hits me like a punch to the throat. That smiling mouth, that mischievous gaze, that air of complete confidence, and that wild yet adorable expression.

It’s a horrifying sight.

38

When Cheyenne spots me in the hallway, she abruptly pulls her coat closed and takes a step back. Never once dropping her smile.

“Oh you’re not alone. I can come back later,” she says without a hit of embarrassment.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Vadim mutters, running a hand through his hair.

“Can you try to explain what she’s doing here? Dressed like that?” I say without taking my eyes off her for a second.

“I’ve no idea,” Vadim replies, not wasting a second in defending himself.

“You told me you weren’t doing anything tonight. I just wanted to give you a little surprise,” Cheyenne simpers.

“Hmm… well, I’m certainly surprised,” he responds, embarrassed. “Cheyenne, this is the Alma I’ve told you about. Alma, Cheyenne. So, now you two have officially met.”

“And now what? The three of us are going to sit down and enjoy a cozy little evening together?!” I retort, beside myself.

“Okay, I can see that I’m interrupting—”

“You’ve got that right,” I snap.

“I’ll take off, then. See you tomorrow, Vadim. Good night, Emma!”

The door closes. I don’t know whether to unleash my rage and scream at him, burst into tears, or grab my things and leave. But I choose another, different option. Because I feel like I’m going to die here and now if I don’t get an explanation right this second.

“You talked to her about me so much that she doesn’t even know my name.”

“She must have gotten it wrong.”

“Liar! She showed up at your place in her underwear like she was sure she wouldn’t find anyone here with you.”