Contract Marriage: Married to My Ex-Husband's Alpha Stepfather [BL] Chapter 95: Holding Me Closer ’Til Our Eyes Meet

[FROLO]

[Still Flashback, Decades Ago]

"One-year bootcamp. My son has always loved those. Don’t let him know what caused my Vitya pain. I will bear the burden of whatever happens here henceforth. My son must grow up happy, Anya," Sergei had said, and Anya stared at him sadly.

She knew what this looked like.

She had served this man his entire life, and she knew him more than anyone would ever know him.

Maybe that was the cost of this all, even as she tried to think of sothing better, sothing that could make her believe that it wasn’t what she was thinking. But even she knew.

Perhaps denial was all they had left, no?

"You talk like you’re going to die, Sergei," Anya asked, as if she didn’t already see the defeat in his eyes, as if the pain was not the only thing she had been trying to comfort him of in the past few months.

"I can’t live in a world that doesn’t have my Vitya, Anya. I wouldn’t survive it. The doctors keep saying the sa thing. The pregnancy, it’s killing him. Last week, they said it wasn’t just the pregnancy anymore," Sergei began in defeat.

He knew he sounded weak, sounded like he was giving up. But what else was he supposed to do in a world that didn’t have the man he loved the most?

Anya stared at him, listening like she always did.

This wasn’t easy for Sergei.

It wouldn’t be, for the longest ti.

She could already see it.

"They said... They said he is too weak to even survive alone. He can’t make it. He won’t. That’s what they told . I begged them for better answers, but they all said the sa thing. Told to cherish the little ti I have left with him.

"But how can I live in a world that doesn’t have Vitya, Anya? He is my lifeline. And if he leaves, I’ll leave with him. Take care of Yaro. My son must not lack anything. I’m not strong enough, but he is.

"Give him whatever he wants," Sergei had said, and Anya just hugged him, knowing that he had made up his mind.

She wanted to tell him to live for Yaroslav, but for Sergei, Vitya had been everything.

Without Vitya, there was no telling what his life would be.

Without Vitya, Sergei’s life would be empty, and to force him into what he didn’t want was the reason most people ended up dying around him.

She wasn’t scared of him, but she was scared of his rage and the effect it always had on people.

"I will, young master. If this is the last ti we see each other, then allow to tell you that it was my pleasure being at your service. May your next life be kinder to you," Anya said, before she bowed one last ti and went to where young Yaroslav was.

The boy had already bid his fathers goodbye and was excited for the business school bootcamp. After all, his fathers always told him there was an empire waiting for him, if he did his best.

"Lyubimy," Vitya had called out, three days later.

Sergei had not left his side. Even when the oga was weak and fading.

The bleeding never stopped.

What had once been their bedroom was not a hospice room with caregivers in there every ten feet.

"Moya dusha," Sergei breathed, holding his oga’s hand desperately, begging anyone out there to save him. To not let his Vitya leave.

"I know what you’re thinking," Vitya had said, his voice hoarse, his body so weak.

"I love you. Even now, you look so beautiful, moya dusha, the prettiest oga. I’m thinking of building a beautiful shrivel for you, my love," Sergei breathed quietly, and Vitya let out a defeated laugh amid coughs.

"You’ve always been a terrible liar," the oga wheezed.

"Nurse!" Sergei called, but Vitya raised his hand weakly, shaking his head.

"You have to let go, moy lyubimy," Vitya breathed shakily.

"Go where, dusha? You’re my husband, I’m not leaving," Sergei insisted.

"Promise , you won’t follow ..."

"No... I... you can’t ask that, no."

"Don’t process the marriage papers, lyubim."

"I’m your husband. Papers or not. I will process them. You can’t deny that."

"I’m dying, Sergei..."

"Always and forever... Till forever pulls us apart. That’s what we swore to one another. You can’t just deny that," Sergei pleaded.

"You have to marry soone in the future. You have to. You can’t cling to ... And you can’t follow ," Vitya said, and Sergei felt his heart aching again.

But it never stopped.

Not since the diagnosis, anyway.

"I love you," Sergei said, fiercely wiping away his tears.

"Then live for ..."

"Moya dusha..."

"Besides... if you follow , you won’t get to change your na to Moskowsky," Vitya reasoned, like that was supposed to make it all better.

Vitya’s last na before he married Yaroslav’s father was Moskowsky.

And Sergei had always told him that he would change his last na to Moskowsky when they got married, so that way, Vitya’s na would be known to the world.

It was sothing that Vitya had thought was a joke, until Sergei started greeting people as Mr. Moskowsky instead of his last na.

And through the years of their courtship, Sergei had never taken back his last na.

He only ever called himself Vitya’s beloved, or Mr. Moskowsky.

And now, Vitya was using that against him in the cruelest of ways.

Sergei held on, desperate to make things better even when he knew there was nothing better this ti.

"You can’t just ask that... What am I supposed to do without you? What am I supposed to live like without you? What do I live for, Dusha? I can’t live in a world that doesn’t have you.

"I can be your Moskowsky in the afterlife. The company... The lapses are already processed. Anya will make it public. It’ll be renad Moskowsky Holdings. It’ll be Moskowsky.

"I don’t want to live without you. I can’t, dusha. I can’t," Sergei begged, pleaded, cried his eyes out, but Vitya, he just smiled, lifting his weak hands to wipe away Sergei’s tears.

"I want you to live for . Be my Moskowsky, lyubim. And you can only be my Moskowsky if you live. Not if you follow to the afterlife," Vitya said weakly.

His breaths had slowed, and his words were a re whisper, that if Sergei was not an alpha with heightened abilities, he would have missed it all.

"Dusha..."

"You promised to give anything I wanted, rember?"

"This is... I can’t... I don’t know how to," Sergei cried.

"You’ll have Yaro. Our son will need you. If we both leave, he’ll be alone, and... And I’ll be sad," Vitya pouted as he tried to reason with Sergei.

The monitors were beeping a little too loudly for Sergei’s liking this ti.

"I love you..."

"Then I ask you to love enough to live for ," Vitya whispered.

"Dusha..."

"Don’t mourn for long..."

"No... You can’t... You can’t leave , dusha."

"Your tears are too precious, my precious husband. And in the future, marry again. Find soone you love and marry them. Be happy. Promise , lyubimy," Vitya said weakly, his breath slowing.

"I can’t..."

"Live for ... Be my Sergei Moskowsky..."

"I can’t..."

"I love you so much, my Sergei Vladimirovich Moskowsky," Vitya breathed.

Then...

The monitors flatlined.

And Sergei was never the sa after that.