An Unexpected Engagement

Chapter 88

We're in the taxi driving through London's Christmas-decked streets.

A Christmas song plays on the car radio and Natasha hums while I can only stare at her profile and wonder what the hell got into my head to have married that girl.

Okay, she's pretty. Very beautiful indeed. Cheeky, if you take as an example the fact that she invaded my office with an unseemly proposal. Kiss well. I bet she does other things well, I think, unable to contain my imagination. But surely that wasn't a turning point in making me change my mind about getting married. I was quite satisfied with my life the way it was. Focused on my career. A relationship would be a distraction. So how had Natasha happened?

Suddenly she turns to me, smiling.

“Why is she looking at me like that?

“Sorry, it's just… it's still bizarre to think I'm married.

“I imagine, but you'll remember. Of course it will. “She seems to be talking to herself. “Look, we're here.

The car stops in front of a pretty garden and I recognize the house. It's actually where I woke up yesterday.

We get out of the car and I look around, lost.

"So I live here now?"

'We live here!' Me, you and... Hi Irina! — Natasha greets a woman who opens the door. She looks to be in her sixties and has a Russian accent. Or I think she is Russian.

"Madam, I'm glad you're here!" Penelope has run off to the neighbor's house again!

- Again? - Natasha sighs entering the house and advancing through the rooms.

My eyes roam around in amazement. It's a beautiful house. Cozy. There is a huge Christmas tree in the living room and even in the kitchen there are some garlands.

Natasha slips through the glass doors and out into the backyard and then I squint as I follow.

"Who is Penelope?" — I hear a dog barking. - Do we have a dog?

Natasha turns to me, horrified.

“Our daughter is not a dog.

- Daughter? - shout.

And I remember Natasha saying something about it before I passed out in my living room. But I had forgotten that detail. No... Besides being married I have a daughter?

I feel like kneeling on the floor and putting my head between my legs, but Natasha moves on and I follow her like an automaton, still dumbfounded by that revelation.

Natasha reaches a fence and peers over it.

"Penelope, come home now!" she orders a huge dog in the neighboring garden.

No, it's not for the dog.

A little girl, not even two years old, comes out from behind the dog that is bigger than her, laughing. It's the same one in the photo, I admit. The girl with the light hair. She doesn't look like Hope. She looks like me. Oh my!

— Mama, woof woof! She points to the dog that has now sensed our presence and turned around, growling.

— Get out of there, Penelope, that dog is going to eat you, forgot what I said?

Yes, the huge black dog does look like it could eat a child. Or even one of us.

- No! She petted the dog.

"Penelope, if you don't come back now, your father will come get you."

It takes a few seconds for me to understand that the father is me.