Chapter 15 - The Kiss She Chose
Elara eventually learned that first kisses were not supposed to solve anything.
Hers didn’t.
She still became nervous sometimes.
Vadim still worked too much.
She still woke from dreams in which Taras entered the smallest bedroom and informed her that some new decision had already been made.
Healing, Elara discovered, was irritatingly repetitive.
You learned the same lesson many times until your body finally believed what your mind already knew.
One morning she woke beside Vadim for the first time.
Nothing dramatic had happened.
They had talked until nearly three.
Elara had fallen asleep.
Vadim had stayed.
Sunlight entered through the curtains.
She opened her eyes and found him already awake.
“You’re staring.”
“Yes.”
“Creepy.”
“I’m your husband.”
“Still creepy.”
His arm rested beside her, not around her.
Even asleep, apparently, the man respected borders.
Elara moved closer voluntarily.
She placed his arm around her waist.
Vadim’s eyes softened.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.”
She closed her eyes again.
“Is this strange for you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“Because I don’t want to be the only one improvising.”
He kissed her forehead.
“Elara.”
“Yes?”
“I was thinking.”
“That rarely ends well.”
“We should have another wedding.”
Her eyes opened.
“What?”
“A real one.”
“We already had one.”
“We had a contract ceremony.”
“That was legally real.”
“You know what I mean.”
Elara sat up.
“You want to marry me again?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vadim frowned.
“Because I love you.”
She stared.
“Was that sufficiently romantic?”
“Suspiciously.”
“I prepared.”
She laughed.
The idea remained in her mind all day.
Their first wedding had belonged to everyone except them.
Taras’s debt.
Vadim’s business.
Family expectation.
A priest.
Guests.
Obligation.
What would a second wedding look like if Elara chose everything?
She discovered the answer slowly.
Small.
Summer.
Outdoors.
No business guests.
No press.
No seating chart designed around power.
Natalia and Celine beside her.
Svetlana arguing with florists.
Mikhail pretending not to care while secretly controlling half the logistics.
And Vadim waiting at the end of a garden path.
Before planning began, however, Elara had one thing left to do.
She returned to Chicago alone.
Vadim did not like it.
But he accepted it.
Taras was permitted supervised family visits.
Elara sat across from him in a plain room.
He looked older than his years.
For several seconds neither spoke.
“You look well,” he said.
“I am.”
“Sokolov treating you properly?”
“Yes.”
Taras looked down.
“I suppose that surprises me.”
“It surprises me that you care.”
He winced.
Fair.
Elara placed a folder on the table.
“What is that?”
“Documents transferring my voting shares in Fagan Logistics into an independent employee trust.”
Taras looked stunned.
“You’re giving them away?”
“Not all. Enough that no single person can control the company the way you did.”
“Elara, those shares are worth—”
“I know.”
“You could build a fortune.”
“I already have more money than I need.”
Taras stared at her.
“Your mother would approve.”
Elara’s eyes sharpened.
“Don’t use her to validate me.”
He lowered his gaze.
“You’re right.”
The words were unfamiliar in his mouth.
Elara studied him.
“I’m getting married again.”
Taras looked up.
“To Sokolov?”
“No, Dad. I found another Russian crime king in the supermarket.”
A shocked laugh escaped him.
Elara froze.
She couldn’t remember the last time they had laughed together.
Perhaps they never had.
Taras sobered.
“Will I be invited?”
There it was.
The question.
Elara had imagined it.
Her answer had changed a dozen times.
Finally she said, “No.”
Pain crossed his face.
She continued before guilt could silence her.
“I’m not doing it to punish you.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t want to spend that day wondering whether you approve of my dress, my body, the food, the guests, my choices.”
Taras nodded slowly.
“I understand.”
“I hope you do.”
“Elara.”
“Yes?”
“I am sorry.”
She looked at him.
“I know.”
It was not forgiveness.
But it was recognition.
For now, enough.
When she returned to Moscow, Vadim met her at the airport.
The same terminal where they had first met.
He held the same dark scarf.
Elara laughed.
“You planned that.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Occasionally.”
He wrapped the scarf around her.
She took his face in both hands and kissed him.
Vadim raised an eyebrow afterward.
“Airport displays of affection?”
“I’m becoming reckless.”
They walked outside together.
This time Elara carried no fear about what waited at the end of the drive.
The house was no longer a foreign estate belonging to a stranger.
It had become a place where her books appeared on tables.
Where her sisters had rooms.
Where Svetlana left furious notes about Vadim’s coffee consumption.
Where Elara’s laughter no longer sounded out of place.
And soon, she would marry Vadim again.
Not because she had been offered.
Not because he had paid.
May you like
Because for the first time in her life, choosing someone did not require losing herself.
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