Book 2 Substitute Player 2
Dinner proved surprisingly pleasant. Franklin joined them in the dining room–his first time downstairs in days–clearly energized by Natasha’s presence. The siblings‘ easy banter lightened the atmosphere, and Emma found herself laughing more than she had in weeks.
After the meal, while Natasha regaled Franklin with stories from the emergency room, Alek pulled Emma
aside in the kitchen.
“Did you know Franklin called her?” he asked, loading plates into the dishwasher.
“No.” Emma handed him glasses to add to the rack. “But I’m glad he did. She’s wonderful.”
“She’s also nosy and opinionated,” Alek warned with brotherly fondness. “And she’ll absolutely take sides.”
“Whose side?” Emma asked, curious.
“Whoever she thinks needs the most defending.” Alek closed the dishwasher. “Usually anyone against me.”
Emma smiled. “I like her already.”
Alek paused, studying Emma’s face. “You seem… lighter tonight.”
“It’s nice having family around,” Emma admitted. “All of our family.”
A moment of understanding passed between them–their first real connection in weeks. Not solving anything,
but acknowledging that they were still bound together despite the distance.
“Will you come home tonight?” Emma asked quietly. “Stay here, I mean. There’s plenty of room.”
Alek hesitated. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” Emma reached for his hand. “I’ve missed you, even though you’ve been right there.”
Before Alek could respond, Franklin’s voice called from the dining room. “If you two are done whispering in there, Natasha is offering medical opinions on my condition, and I need reinforcements!”
The moment broken, they returned to the dining room to find Natasha methodically listing all the ways Franklin was likely ignoring doctor’s orders.
“-and the sodium in those pretzels you’re hiding in your bedside table isn’t helping your blood pressure,” she
was saying.
“How did you know about those?” Franklin demanded.
“I’m in medical school. I can spot a rule–breaker from a mile away.” Natasha turned to Emma and Alek. “Your grandfather needs a dedicated health coordinator. His current care team is too fragmented.”
“We have three specialists,” Emma protested.
“Who probably barely communicate with each other,” Natasha countered. “I’d be happy to review his records and create a comprehensive care plan while I’m here.”
“Absolutely not,” Franklin objected. “I don’t need another doctor.”
“Then consider me a consultant,” Natasha suggested smoothly. “A fresh perspective.”
As the discussion continued, Emma noticed Alek watching his sister with obvious pride. This was a side of
< Book 2 Substitute Player 2
+8 Points >
his family she’d barely glimpsed–the professional confidence, the take–charge attitude so similar to Alek’s in the boardroom.
Later that night, after Franklin had retired and Natasha had commandeered his medical files for review, Emma found herself alone with Alek in the mansion’s sitting room.
“Thank you for staying,” she said quietly.
Alek nodded, keeping a careful distance on the sofa. “Natasha would never forgive me if I left her first night
here.”
“Is that the only reason?”
His eyes met hers. “No.”
The grandfather clock ticked loudly in the corner, marking seconds of silence between them.
“We should talk,” Emma began, “about what happens next.”
“I think,” Alek said slowly, “that tonight isn’t the night for difficult conversations.”
Emma wanted to argue but recognized the wisdom in his words. Tonight had been their first peaceful evening
in weeks. Why shatter it with debates that would still be waiting tomorrow?
“Goodnight, then,” she said instead, rising from the sofa.
Alek caught her hand as she passed, his touch gentle. “I am trying, Emma. To understand your perspective. To find middle ground.”
“I know.” Emma squeezed his fingers. “So am I.”
Upstairs, Emma passed Natasha’s room to find the door ajar, light still blazing. She peered in to see Alek’s
sister surrounded by medical files, making notes with fierce concentration.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” Emma asked.
Natasha looked up, grinning. “Medical residency beats normal sleep patterns out of you. Besides, your grandfather’s case is fascinating.”
“Fascinating isn’t the word I’d use,” Emma said dryly.
“He’s a stubborn old goat who’s ignoring half his treatment plan,” Natasha observed. “Reminds me of
someone else I know.”
“Alek?”
“You, actually.” Natasha set down her pen. “My brother says you went back to work two weeks after major
surgery.”
Emma leaned against the doorframe. “Is that why you’re really here? To report on me to Alek?”
“I’m here because a wise old man called and said his granddaughter and my brother are both too stubborn to help each other through grief.” Natasha’s directness was startling. “He thought a neutral third party might help.”
“And you dropped everything to play family therapist?”
“I dropped everything because Alek is the only immediate family I have left,” Natasha corrected. “And because losing a pregnancy, even an early one, is a trauma many people dismiss too quickly.”
< Book 2 Substitute Player 2
Emma felt sudden tears prick her eyes. “You sound like you speak from experience.”
“Not personally. But I’ve worked in women’s health.” Natasha’s expression softened. “The emotional impact often lasts far longer than the physical recovery.”
For the first time since the hospital, Emma felt truly seen–not as Franklin’s granddaughter needing protection, not as Alek’s wife causing worry, but as a woman experiencing a legitimate loss.
“I don’t know how to reach him,” Emma admitted. “We’re both trying so hard not to hurt each other that we’re
barely connecting at all.”
“Then stop trying not to hurt each other,” Natasha suggested. “Start by being honest, even when it stings.”
“Is that the famous Volkov directness?”
“It’s the only way I know to love difficult people.” Natasha smiled. “And make no mistake–you and my brother are both deeply, profoundly difficult.”
Emma laughed softly, surprised by how good it felt. “I think I’m going to like having you here, Natasha.”
“Of course you will,” Natasha replied confidently. “I’m delightful.”
As Emma continued to her own room, she reflected on the unexpected shift in dynamics Natasha’s arrival had created. For weeks, she and Alek had been locked in a binary standoff–his perspective versus hers, surrogacy versus trying again, protection versus risk.
Natasha introduced a third point of view, a different angle from which to examine their frozen positions. Whether that would help bridge the gaps between them or create new complications remained to be seen. For tonight at least, Emma wasn’t alone in her concerns. For the first time since losing the baby, she felt understood rather than just sympathized with.
Perhaps Franklin’s “reinforcements” were exactly what they needed after all.