6
Mikhail
“Itold you things have changed around here,” Jonathan said, handing my keys back to me and giving me a pat on the shoulder. “Welcome to the circus. I’m out of here. See you tomorrow.”
For several long moments, I only had eyes for Sadie. She was even more beautiful than I remembered, curvy and welcoming in a way I fought to define. It was odd, but arresting. She wore her hair piled up on top of her head, longer than she used to keep it. Several curls had sprung out of place, though, and swept along her neck and forehead. I wanted to wrap them around my fingers, smooth them back into the rest of her strands, relieve her of that hair tie … and that stained and splattered uniform.
After all this time, I was still obsessed with her.
The world had stopped when I’d laid eyes on Sadie. But then it started spinning again as I noticed three young children galloping around the yard.
Actually, it was spinning a little too fast.
“Whose kids are those?” I asked.
Sadie snorted at me, crossing her arms over her chest. “Four years without a word — without answering a single one of my calls or texts — and that’s the first thing you say to me? Unbelievable.”
Two boys and a girl. They all appeared to be around the same age. I remembered suddenly when I’d gone inside to surprise Mamachka that she’d said something about “them” napping. I hadn’t bothered trying to figure out what she’d been talking about then, but now it seemed like a reasonable assumption that the kids had been slumbering inside the house.
“Are you running a daycare here?” I tried again.
“Something like that.” Sadie smirked. “Fern! Tristan! Cooper! Hug it in!”
The kids ran screaming toward her until they engulfed her legs, trying to wrap their little arms around her. Sadie’s smirk turned into a genuine smile — and then a laugh. God, I’d missed that laugh.
“Mommy!” one of the little boys chirped happily, and that’s when everything came crashing down.
“They’re your kids,” I said. “All three of them?”
“Triplets,” she confirmed. “And yep. They’re mine. Go on then, you little monsters. Go run off that energy. Can’t believe Grandma let you all fall asleep so late in the day, but here we are.”
They all dashed squealing away and I watched them go, spotting Mamachka on the porch supervising everyone.
I turned back to Sadie. “Congratulations are in order, then, I suppose.”
“I had a baby shower,” she said. “Four years ago, of course. So you’re a little late on the congratulations. A little late on everything, actually.”
“Apparently,” I said, still not quite recovered from having the rug pulled out from underneath me. Sadie was a mother. It didn’t lessen my attraction to her, but it did change things.
It changed everything.
“Who’s the lucky father?” I asked.
She gave me an odd look. “He’s out of the picture.”
White-hot jealousy rose up my throat like bile. Someone else had had her while I was gone. I hated the feeling. I’d wanted her to be mine — and mine alone. “That’s a shame. They’re good-looking kids.”
“They have a good-looking mother,” she said, lifting her chin in defiance.
“Goddamn right they do,” I said more roughly than I meant to. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Oh, now you want to talk?” Sadie threw her head back and laughed. The little girl — Fern, was it? — noticed and pulled off a maniacal imitation that was downright spooky. “What in the world could you have to say to me now?”
“You and I have unfinished business,” I said, taking a step toward her. She wavered for a moment before standing her ground. This woman was tough. Something had hardened her in the time we’d spent apart. Though I supposed having triplets would do that to a person.
“And what business would that be?” she asked, blinking at me with those hazel eyes. For all intents and purposes, she looked like the very picture of innocence.
“I asked you to wait for me,” I said.