What was she going to say to him?

She'd promised herself she wouldn't say anything to anyone, not until he knew. She'd been putting it off for three days now, and it wouldn't do any good to keep it from him any longer. She didn't have anything to worry about, he'd understand.

"I'm hooooome!" the front door closes. "мой дорогой, Я дома!"

He can't be here, not now. It's too early. "What time is it?"

"Four o'clock. The same time I always come home."

Well, then.

"Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine, Pavel. Just lost track of time, is all." She gives him a quick kiss. "I'm going to finish dusting the living room."

"Alright. I'll be in the kitchen. Let me know if you need help."

She nods, hearing his footsteps disappear. She flops backwards onto the couch, hands to her face.

It had been several months since she'd been married, so that isn't the problem. She love her husband; a small blush graces her cheeks just thinking about him. What really has her worried is the fact that her hands and her cane are her eyes, the fact that she can be dependent sometimes. The fact that she's not ready for -

"Something's wrong, I know it is." She feels the cushion sink beside her, and he pulls her to his chest. "What's bothering you? Пожалуйста, скажите мне."

"Pavel, I'm fine -"

"Don't lie to me." He tilts her your chin upward. "Please tell me what's wrong."

She says nothing, pursing her lips. What's the best way to tell him? "I…um…"

She knows he's watching her, and that makes her all the more nervous.

"I…I'm…"

"Are you sick?"

"No, no…I'm perfectly healthy."

"Then what…?"

"We…we've been married for a while now." She doesn't know what she's saying, but she can't stop yourself. "And it's been so wonderful, and you know I love you more than anything…"

She feels him tense beside her. "What are you getting at?"

"Pavel…" Deep breath. She can do this. "I was at the doctor's the other day, and…I'm pregnant."

He's quiet. It makes her nervous.

"Pavel, I know we never really talked about having children, and I know I won't make the best mother, I can barely make do as is as your wife, but I'm sure we can -"

His lips prevent her from saying more. Her back is against the cushions, his weight on top of her, but she can't bring herself to say much. He pulls away, and she hears that beautiful smile of his in his voice.

"This is…great. Это фантастика!" He kisses her again, pulling her closer and talking rapidly in Russian. She can't understand anything, and she finally shakes his shoulder, and he stops, giggling.

"You're not mad at me?"

"Nyet." He brushes a strand of hair from her face. "How could I ever be?"

"I'll need even more help than I already have."

"And I'll gladly give it." He kisses her forehead. "You know I will."

She smiles at his words. "Thank you." She starts to laugh. "We're…we're going to be parents, Pasha."

"I know." He holds her tightly, his laughter twining with hers. "I know!" His hand hesitantly glides over her stomach. "Наш ребенок."

"I'm about a month along. I won't be showing for a while."

"Your skin is hard."

"It'll only get harder. And rounder."

He giggles again. "You say that as if it's a bad thing."

"I don't want you seeing me so…"

"Hush." He kisses her, speaking against her lips. "You're carrying our child. And that's the most beautiful thing of all. You can never be ugly, my love. Всегда ты хороша."

She simply smiles, spending the rest of the evening in her husband's arms.