I come back and lie down in bed, holding my beloved. I look at the horizon — dawn is breaking, the first soft rays piercing through the mist and painting the sky in gentle shades of pink and blue, as if nature itself is creating a living picture of hope and new beginnings for us. But Katrin sleeps so peacefully beside me that I don't want to wake her — I want to preserve this image forever, like a frame from the most touching and warm fairy tale, where time seems to freeze in anticipation of happiness. Covering us with a large blanket, I follow her into dreams, feeling her warmth and calm, as if absorbing every bit of comfort and tenderness she brings into my life.
Katrin wakes me, unable to settle, turning in our bed as if searching for the right position to finally relax. I'm already tired of it, and without opening my eyes, I hold her, pressing her back to my chest — such a simple gesture, speaking more than words ever could, filled with care and quiet love. At this moment, I feel our bond strengthening, despite the minor discomforts of the morning.
"Rebel Girl, you're keeping me from sleeping," I whisper to her, my voice barely audible, as if afraid to break this quiet morning magic, saying the words somewhere near her neck, feeling her warmth on my face. My words carry tenderness and a light joke, hiding deep attachment.
"We slept through the sunrise," she says to me, upset, her voice a little guilty, as if the lost moment is something important and she regrets missing it. Her tone shows vulnerability and the desire to be together in every moment.
"I didn't miss anything," I reply with a slight smile, confident and calm, trying to lift her mood and show that for me, it's not just the sunrise that matters, but every moment with her.
"Then why didn't you wake me?" There's a slight hurt in her voice, but also hope, as if she expects me to understand without words and take care of both of us.
I start kissing her neck, stroking her stomach — ignoring her question, enjoying the touches and the silence between us. These caresses speak of love without words, of wanting to be close despite all questions and doubts.
"Maxim, answer me," she insists, slightly lifting her head to catch my gaze, a spark of impatience and tenderness playing in her eyes at the same time.
"I don't see a problem with that. I'm sure we'll have many more dates here, so we'll have time to enjoy both sunsets and sunrises together," I explain, feeling warmth spread in my heart from the realization that a whole life full of moments awaits us, moments we will live together, slowly and lovingly. This promise sounds like quiet certainty and hope, giving us both a sense of safety and joy for the future.
"I don't think so. We're lucky the building owner didn't call the authorities for our little adventure," she says with a hint of displeasure and slight irritation, as if recalling how it could have ended very differently.
Her voice carries a mix of surprise and mild fear, as if in this moment she feels the weight of possible consequences and understands how thin the line is between mischief and real trouble. Her gaze tightens slightly, as if an inner voice reminds her that things could have gone off the rails.
"Am I an idiot — calling the patrol on myself?" I laugh, feeling how laughter releases tension, filling our conversation with lightness and playfulness.
This is my way of joking, shaking off the weight of responsibility from my shoulders and showing that I control the situation, no matter what. Deep down, I know I'm taking a risk, but I want her not to worry. The laughter carries sincerity and hope that we will face any difficulties together.
"You bought this building?" Rebel Girl looks at me, shocked, her eyes widening in surprise, as if trying to grasp the scale of the act. In her eyes, there is not just surprise, but a mix of disbelief and admiration — as if she's trying to understand how serious and decisive I have become in taking such a step.
"I'm not that rich yet, my love. But I found enough money for the roof," I declare proudly, feeling a spark of satisfaction and mild pride inside. I want to show her that I am capable of a lot for us, that our dreams and plans are not empty words, but real actions. My words carry confidence, even if this is just the first step.
"But why? You could have rented it," Katrin doesn't understand, her voice full of doubt and genuine surprise, as if she's trying to grasp the reason behind such a move. In her tone, there is concern for our future and slight fear of rash decisions.
"That could have been an option. But that bastard refused me. So I made him a different offer, and this time he didn't refuse," I explain the situation, slightly irritated but pleased that I achieved my goal. My words carry firmness and determination, as if I want to show her that I can fight and achieve my goals no matter what.
"But now we can have dates here whenever we want, my love," I add, smiling, filling my words with warmth and a promise of freedom for our meetings. In this promise is all my tenderness and devotion, a desire to make our life brighter and happier.
"Yes," she agrees hesitantly, as if not yet used to the new reality, her voice carrying a trace of doubt and slight anxiety, but in her eyes, hope already flickers.
"Was it expensive?" It seems she worries more about the price than the purchase itself. Her voice carries care and curiosity, as if trying to understand how far I'm willing to go for our family.
"Several months' earnings from my club as an owner. Nothing — I have profits from several other places, so it won't affect us much," I reply calmly, trying to reassure her and instill confidence. She is silent, clearly thinking about something, her gaze thoughtful, almost dreamy, as if imagining how our new life will look.
"By the way, about the club. I'm going there later today for some business," I begin, anticipating sharing part of my life with her.
"Fine. Bring Mary home, then you can go," my beloved replies indifferently, as if my business doesn't interest her, which doesn't sit well with me.
"I actually want you to come with me," I say, surprising her, feeling a desire to share with her not just moments of joy, but all aspects of my life. I want her to be with me, everywhere — at work, in happiness, in difficulties.
"Why me? You're the owner, and I'm nobody there," Rebel Girl asks with slight distrust, not believing that she really has a place there. Her doubts are genuine — she fears becoming superfluous or out of place.
"Who says you're nobody? Consider yourself an owner too. I've already said I'm ready to give you everything I have," I try to make her understand, awakening in her a sense of importance and belonging. My words carry the deepest love and sincerity, a desire to be with her as equals.
"I don't see it that way. But still, why am I there?" she repeats, not stopping her doubts, her voice slightly trembling, showing inner struggle.
"Just come with me, please. I want to be with you always, even for these couple of hours," I plead, my voice full of sincerity and tenderness. In my gaze — a warm plea; in my touch on her hand — a slight tremor of anticipation. I speak softly, but each word carries more than a request — almost a quiet confession, a call for her to share another piece of life with me.
The truth is, I want her to get used to the idea that besides our daughter, friends, and apartment, we have a shared club — a place where we can truly be together as a couple, a place we loved in the past that brought us closer. I want her to feel at ease next to me in these new spaces, as naturally as in our cozy kitchen or on our favorite sofa. I want the habit of being together to grow into a soft, warm need, like morning breath in the same bed.
Later, I also want to show her the company, but that's for another time. In those offices, during business talks, I dream of seeing her look — attentive, interested, proud of me. I want Katrin to know: I am not just a man beside her; I am with her and for her, in every day, in every project, in everything I live.
In every word I speak, there is a plea for closeness and support. Not formal, not ordinary — but the kind that makes a person yours. It's as if I'm pulling the threads of my soul toward her, asking not just to go, but to stay close, to become a part, to share. Not for the sake of business, not for a goal — but for us.
"If you insist, fine. Though I really don't want to leave Mary with Elena Dmitrievna again. I trust her with our daughter, but taking care of her three days in a row is already too much on our part," Rebel Girl protests, expressing both concern for our daughter and a hint of irritation.
"She hasn't been with her for almost three years, even less than your grandmother. It's okay, let them spend time together. Besides, Vi is still visiting my mom and will happily help," I reassure my beloved, trying to ease her worry and show that everything is under control.
"Okay. When are we going to the club?" Katrin asks, as if trying to find something for herself in this plan, perhaps even anticipating it with slight excitement.
"When you want. There's no exact time, so as soon as we get dressed, we go," I reply, feeling the joy of our simple agreement and the anticipation of new experiences hidden in it.
"Then I'll go put on a dress," she says, getting out of bed with determination and a slight sparkle in her eyes. Her movements carry confidence and a desire to look beautiful, not just for others, but for me.
"I thought you'd change into something more comfortable," I say, not wanting everyone at the club to stare at her, from the guards to the visitors. My words carry care and a slight desire to protect her from unwanted attention, or more precisely, I want to be the only one seeing her so beautiful in a slightly daring outfit.
"But that nasty Alice will be there. I want to look perfect. And this dress will bring her to her knees before me better than any weapon," she says, her eyes sparkling, describing her devious plan to defeat her opponent. Her voice is full of determination and cunning. In it is her challenge, her strength and confidence — the qualities I love so much.
Hearing this, I start laughing with her, but she leaves silently, saying nothing. Yes, for this, I have no objection to her going dressed like that. Deep inside, her confidence warms me — it's like a promise that we will always fight and win together, supporting each other in everything. This feeling of unity and strength fills me with warmth and calm, making me believe in the best.