That was way more complicated.
Over five years ago, he’d been committed to following through with the marriage contract, but breaking up with Emma had been much harder than he’d expected. He’d needed time to grieve the loss of their relationship, even though he hadn’t acknowledged that was what he was doing.
He’d dreamed about her nightly and then less frequently as time went on, but the dreams never stopped completely. He’d never stopped seeing Emma in other women only to realize it wasn’t her.
She had haunted him.
And so Konstantin had put off marrying a woman he’d been pretty sure had a thing for his brother. As much as he’d wanted to please his father, he’d been unable to take those final steps to court Nataliya and announce a formal engagement.
Then Tiana had died, and the family had gone into formal mourning. The question of Konstantin getting married anytime soon became a moot point, not to be raised by anyone, but certainly not him, for another five years.
It shouldn’t have surprised him, considering the role she’d played in him putting off his marriage to Nataliya to begin with, that once his commitment to Nataliya was out of the way, Konstantin hadn’t been able to stop wondering about Emma.
What was she doing? Was she still single?
“You say Mirrus isn’t backward, but seriously?” Emma was asking now. “Your brother has to make his wife queen, or he can keep her as a princess for their whole marriage? Talk about being under the thumb of the patriarchy.”
“It’s a political role, not just a title. You cannot blame my brother for being cautious.” Why were they talking about Nikolai and Nataliya?
That’s your fault, genius, his inner voice reminded him.
“The fact the law is written the way it is feeds the power of patriarchy.”
“You’ve become very political.”
“You think having an opinion about equal rights and opportunities for women makes me political?” she asked.
Put that way? Maybe not. “But the issues are politicized.”
“Issues become politicized when you have one group trying to suppress another. That doesn’t inherently make the issues themselves political.”
“That’s an interesting take.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Dad, you’re still here!”
Konstantin spun around at the sound of his son’s voice. Mikhail was still rubbing sleep from his eyes, his little-boy features so familiar it stalled Konstantin’s breath for a second. He managed a nod.
Mikhail looked at his mother. “He’s still here, Mom.”
“Yes, he is, Mickey.”
“When is he going away again?” Mickey asked.
Before she could answer, Konstantin found his voice. “I am not going away. Now that I have found you and your mom, I will never lose you again.”
“You lost us?”
Konstantin looked to Emma. He didn’t want to contradict anything she had told their son.
Emma’s eyes glistened, but her features showed that newfound serenity she’d managed to achieve since coming in here. “He did.”
“You didn’t know he was looking for us?” Mikhail asked his mother.
She shook her head. “No. I thought he did not have a place in his life for us.”
“Oh. But he does?”