Grass crunched beneath our feet as Kon led me further into the entangled flora.
“Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
I sighed. “I hate surprises.”
He only smiled.
Tucked away in the garden was an old greenhouse. The inside had long ago been taken over by the garden, making it impossible to open the door and enter; Danika and I had tried a few times. She had cut herself on the broken glass and we had given up.
I noticed that the greenhouse had been pruned back immediately. The door was open, the glass windows replaced.
“What is this?”
Konstantin pressed a hand to my back, pressing me forward. “Take a look.”
Sunlight shone through the panes, illuminating the rows of tables and empty pots. Watering cans and packets of soil leaned against the walls, as well as a small seating area. Plain, but not in a boring way, in a way that implied the greenhouse was waiting for someone to come along and create life within its walls.
Tears brimmed in my eyes.
“Konstantin…”
Only a single flower grew, the pot situated in the middle of the space. Purple foxglove.
“For you, my Elena,” he said from behind me. “A place for you to grow your poisonous plants–where the pets and children can’t reach them.”
I covered my mouth. The swell of emotions inside of me couldn’t be described with a single word, there was no collection of the alphabet’s 26 letters that could accurately explain the aching and happiness and love inside of me.
“Turn around,” he said softly.
I did.
His hands were cupping a small velvet box.
“My Elena.” His voice was heartbreakingly soft. “Since the moment I read your words, I have loved you. You were a mystery I couldn’t unravel, a magical creature come to trick me into the forest. You were my equal, my opponent. There has never been anyone else for me and there never will be.” He flipped open the box’s lid, revealing a beautiful ring inside. “It would me my honor to become your husband.”
I felt my lips quiver as tears began to slide down my cheeks.
I managed to whisper, “Get on one knee.”
Konstantin looked nervous but asked, “One knee?”
I nodded. “I am no conquest, Konstantin. I am no territory to be invaded. If you want me, then get on your knees and surrender yourself to me. Perhaps I will grant you entrance.”
Then the Tarkhanov King, the Pakhan of the most feared Bratva in history, got down on one knee before me. He presented the ring like a knight offering the queen a token of his affection.
“Lyubimaya, my love, my empress,” he said. “Become my advisor, Sovietnik and partner. Never let there be another day where we are separated.”
I cupped his face between my palms.
The question made everything inside of me shatter.
“Elena, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Words had failed me. Instead, I burst into tears, and fell into him. His strong arms came around me, holding me to his chest with tenderness and love.
“Is that a yes, lyubimaya?”
I nodded through the sobs. “Yes, yes, I will marry you.”
Konstantin slipped the ring onto my finger. Through the midst of tears, I could make out the beautiful piece of jewellery. A pear-shaped emerald surrounded by white stones, all resting on a golden band.
“Natasha brought it.” He kissed my fingers, one by one. “It’s a family heirloom. As soon as she knew you had returned, she hunted it down.”
We kissed softly.
“I thought you were going to say no,” he told me between kisses.
I laughed and pressed my lips to his again. “I thought you were never going to ask.”
Konstantin and I made sweet slow love on the dirt, any care for mess and stains forgotten as we cemented our feelings for each other. Afterward, he held me to his chest, and we watched the sun lighten the greenhouse, transforming it from a soft blue to golden glow.
“What’s the first plant you’re going to begin growing?” he asked. “Besides the obvious.”
I smiled. “I don’t know. It’ll be poisonous, though.”
His laughter swelled around the shed, dancing off the panes. “I expected nothing less.”
We told Nikolai first. He was still asleep when we returned, his bum in the air. I didn’t want to disturb him; he resembled a snoozing bear cub. His peacefulness didn’t last long, soon he gave a little fart, and scared himself awake.
Boys, I laughed to myself.
“Your dad and I want to share some news with you.” I crawled onto the bed and crossed my legs. Konstantin stopped putting on his shirt. “Do you want to know?”
“Know?” Niko repeated. He wiggled out of the blanket and crawled into my lap. I wrapped my arms around him and showered him with kisses. “Know what?”
“The news your dad and I have.”
Konstantin approached us. “It’s very exciting.”
“What is it?” He looked between us both expectantly.
We shared an affection look before turning our attention back to our son.
“We’re getting married.”
Niko didn’t really react. His nose scrunched up. “Time for breakfast?”
I laughed. “You’re going to be a ring-bearer, wild boy.”
He looked deep in thought for a few moments before asking, “Blueberry pancakes?”
Konstantin and I shared a look of amusement over the top of his head. Toddlers weren’t known for their ability to understand monumental events–especially when the topic of ‘what’s for breakfast?’ was much more interesting.
Roksana was the next to find out. She caught us in the hallway on the way to breakfast, bursting into tears as soon as she saw the ring.
“Oh, Elena, Kostya.” She kissed us both on the cheeks before giving Niko a cuddle. “I’m so happy for you both. This is a dream come true–I am without words.”
The rest of the house found out quickly after that. We were showered with hugs, kisses and congratulations. Dates and floral arrangements were discussed offhandedly. Everyone already knew it would be small and abrupt, like we would wake up one morning, drag everyone out to the yard and make Artyom marry us after getting ordained online.
To celebrate, Dmitri made us fruit cake from scratch. For such a cold and frightening man, he had a pure and heartfelt way of showing his love.
Joy swarmed through every hallway and doorway, filling the house to the brim. There were no thoughts of Tatiana or pain or what was to come. Instead, I sat with my family, shoulder to shoulder, with my hand in Konstantin’s and my son nestled on my lap. The ring gleamed beneath the lights.
I kept finding myself looking at it. Not in a conceited way. I had never been good at judging the price or value of metal and jewellery. Instead, I rolled the ring between my fingers with a strange feeling in my chest.
I had worn a Falcone ring for a time. I’d hated it. I used to see how often I could get away with not wearing it. I even pretended to lose it in the garden a few times.
I didn’t mind this Tarkhanov ring. In fact, sometimes when I was alone, I admired the emerald. The green matched my eyes–a fact Kon enjoyed immensely.
Like it was made for you, he told me after breakfast. It’s like my ancestors knew you were going to join our family and made a ring befitting for you.