Six months later …
“Lyubov moya…” I moaned as Luka moved within me. I raked at his strong back, my head tilted as he kissed and nipped at my throat.
“Solnyshko,” Luka groaned, his hips picking up speed, his cock like steel, swelling within me the closer we came to release.
Our breathing came quick, and my hands moved to fist his hair. Luka stretched out his arms and gripped the iron of the headboard, thrusting powerfully inside me, making me lose control.
“Baby!” I cried, feeling my orgasm approach, clenching my legs around his waist. Luka’s head lifted to press his mouth to mine. Our tongues instantly clashed, wild and erratic.
“Kisa … Kisa…” Luka roared, breaking from my lips as his neck tensed, his muscles cording as he came, taking me over the edge with him.
Luka jerked inside me, then collapsed on my chest, his skin damp from hours and hours of lovemaking.
Yesterday we got married.
Finally. In our childhood church, by Father Kruschev.
I was officially Luka’s wife, and there was no one happier on Earth than I was right now, right at this second.
I ran my hand through Luka’s blond messy hair as he caught his breath. Lifting his head, Luka pressed a long, lazy kiss to my lips and said, “I love you, solnyshko.”
Running my finger down his cheek, I replied, “I love you too.”
Smiling shyly, Luka, after six months of never spending a day apart, still found his freedom impossible to get used to and he felt undeserving of my unconditional love for him.
Memories of his past in the Gulag gave him nightmares and he would wake up in cold sweats, the faces of the hundreds of men and boys he was forced to kill haunting his sleep. The nightmares got so bad, Luka refused to sleep those first nights. I couldn’t stand seeing it, so I defied my papa and ignored orthodox tradition. The very next night I slept next to Luka in his childhood bed, and he never woke up once.
He needed me to sleep.
I kept his nightmares away.
We’d never spent a day apart since.
Moving his face to mine again, I ensured our eyes met and said, “I have always and will always love you, all my life.”
Luka awarded me with a blinding smile and kissed down my neck, down my chest, and down to my belly, where he peppered me with kisses.
Glancing up at me with hope in his eyes, he asked, “You think you’re pregnant yet?”
Laughing, I held on to his arms and pulled him back up over me. “We got married yesterday, Luka.”
His face fell into a serious expression. “I want a child with you.”
“I know you do, lyubov moya. And it’ll happen. Nothing will take me away from you again.” I ran my finger over his wedding ring. “We’re married now. Together forever, remember?”
He exhaled through his nose and nodded, slumping beside me, and laid his head over my naked chest. He nuzzled his head into my breast, and I smiled, knowing what that small action meant.
I began running my fingers through Luka’s messy sandy hair, loving the feel of his arms tightening around mine. He loved me stroking at his hair. Said it made him feel like the last twelve years had never happened.
It broke my heart because he wasn’t the Luka from our childhood.
He was damaged.
Jaded.
Tormented by his past.
Permanently changed … but he was the man I loved now, the man who was always my protector. Now he was even more so. And although life was hard for him now, with me, he was at peace.
We were each other’s peace.
“Read to me,” Luka murmured, completely relaxed in my arms. Smiling, I reached out for our favorite old book that was worn and aged through years of overuse. I had never thrown it away.
Maybe I always knew I would need it again someday.
“You ready, lyubov moya?” I asked.
“Mmm…” he murmured in reply. “Read to me.” He reached up and held my free hand in his.
I smiled.
I was so unbelievably happy as we laid here in our new bed in our new home, our new brownstone, three doors down from his parents’ home.
“They were always meant to be together, one boy and one girl, two hearts split into two, sent to far-off lands on their own. For God wanted to see if true love could be tested. He wanted to see if two halves of one soul could find each other again, even against the odds. Years would pass. They would both be hurt. They would both be sad, but one day, when they least expected it, they would stumble into each other’s paths. The question is: would they recognize each other’s soul? And would they find their way back to love…?”
Looking down at Luka, his eyes closing as he traced his finger over my belly, a small contented smile on his lips, I knew he was praying I was pregnant.
I was too.
“You recognized mine,” he murmured sleepily, slowly opening his eyes. I stopped reading and lowered the book. “You recognized my soul when I was lost.”
Tears building, I replied, “I did, baby.”
“And you brought me back to you,” he finished and pressed a kiss to my stomach.
I shook my head. “Now that’s where you’re wrong.”
Luka raised his head, tilted it to the side, and pursed his lips in confusion. My heart flipped at the action, and, releasing his hand, I stroked my thumb along his stubbled cheeks. Taking his hand again, I pressed it against my heart.
“I couldn’t bring you back because you never ever left. Not in here.” I patted my chest where my heart was.
Luka smiled and laid his head back down. Closing his eyes, he picked up my hand and placed it back in his hair, nudging me to stroke him again.
My heart melted as my fingers began to move back and forth through the silky blond strands. I picked up the book and started where I left off …
“Their love story began on the day she was born…”