"I love you Klas"

Part 30

Mickey's pov:

I woke up early in the morning with a headache, groaning as I sat up and headed to the bathroom. The door opened, and there was Klas, staring at me with his arms crossed. "Are you okay now?" he asked sternly. I frowned, confused about why he was upset early in the morning when I had just woken up and done nothing wrong. "Yeah?" I said, raising my brows.

"You don't remember, Mickey?" he asked, and I shook my head. "Yesterday, you got into a fight with the neighbor, and you passed out," he explained. I frowned, not upset about the fight but disappointed because I lost. "I lost?" I asked, and Klas groaned. "No, you won. You broke his arm, but then you fell down the stairs and tripped on Willow's toys, passing out," he clarified. I felt relieved, realizing I had indeed won.

"Mickey, please change for once," he said, leaving, and I laughed, knowing well enough that change wasn't in my nature.

I descended the stairs to discover Willow and Klas engaged in breakfast. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," I teased, eliciting a glance from Klas. "Sorry, not sorry," I added with a smirk, taking a seat to join them.

"How's your breakfast, Willy?" Klas inquired, prompting Willow to respond with a delighted thumbs up. "So delicious, dada," she giggled, earning a warm smile from Klas. Curious, I asked, "What's for dessert?" Klas handed me a plate adorned with tomato slices, leaving me momentarily stunned. "No way, you're joking, right?" I questioned, met with a shake of his head and a giggle.

Despite my groan, I accepted a slice, playfully tossing it to Willow, who erupted in laughter. "Mickey!" Klas interjected, bringing our antics to a halt. "Oh, no..." Klas sighed, casting a disapproving look my way as Pavel's cries echoed from his room. "That's your fault, Mickey," he remarked. Obliged, I rose from my seat, making my way to Pavel's room.

Pavel Roman Ruslanovich, our second child born through surrogacy, emitted cries that stirred a sense of responsibility within me. Gently cradling him in my arms, I carried Pavel back to the kitchen, hoping to restore tranquility to our morning tableau.

As Pavel continued crying, I tried to soothe him while Klas and Willow exchanged amused glances. "You're quite the troublemaker, aren't you, little buddy?" I cooed at Pavel, earning a small smile from him. Klas handed me a bottle, and I started feeding Pavel, hoping to bring peace back to our breakfast scene.

Following breakfast, Klas tended to Pavel while Willow immersed herself in play. I stepped outside for a brief respite, withdrawing a cigarette from its pack and igniting it, inhaling the tendrils of the familiar vice. "Morning, Mr. Ruslanov," greeted a passing neighbor, to which I offered a nod in acknowledgment.

Surveying the neighborhood, I realized this would be the backdrop for my children's upbringing, unless we chose to relocate. Over the past two years, much had transpired, and I found solace in the fact that it had culminated in the addition of another child to our family, maintaining our unity.

Today marked seven years since my fortuitous meeting with Klas and six years of marriage. Gratitude overwhelmed me as I reflected on everything he had done, and I never once regretted being true to myself in this relationship. Acknowledging my tumultuous past, where I resorted to theft for a living, I recognized the importance of sharing these truths with my children, allowing them to understand the transformative beauty of change.

One day, I vowed to recount every detail of my journey to them. Max, having reconciled with his ex, was planning to marry, a development that brought genuine happiness, considering the challenges we had weathered together. Millie and Natalie were expecting a baby girl, adding to the unexpected joys life had bestowed upon us.

I couldn't help but marvel at the life I now led-a life I hadn't expected but desperately needed-grateful for the enduring presence of Klas.

I flicked the cigarette away and reentered the house, where Willow eagerly ran up to me. Scooping her into my arms, I carried her to Pavel's room, finding Klas tenderly cuddling our youngest. "Dada," Willow whispered, and Klas beamed upon seeing us. Approaching, he kissed Willow's head, eliciting giggles from her as she observed her little brother.

I joined them, kissing Klas's head deeply as he engaged in whispered conversations with Willow about Pavel. Witnessing my family enveloped in affection, I reveled in the love permeating the room. Klas, holding our son and conversing with our daughter, embodied a scene of pure warmth that filled my heart with joy.

In that moment, I acknowledged the profound love I felt for the man who was not just my husband but also my best friend, my staunch supporter, and the essence of my life. Reflecting on our connection, I realized there was nothing in this world I would trade for Klas. "Hey, honey," I spoke, and he looked up at me. "I love you," I declared, prompting a smile from him as he reciprocated, "I love you, Mick."

I, Mickailo Ruslanov, find myself blissfully entwined in marriage with the love of my life. Across worlds, alternate realities, and parallel universes, this immutable connection remains unaltered. In the profound simplicity of these words, I express a sentiment that transcends dimensions: 'I love you, Klas.'

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