The Unexpected

Chapter 18

November 1st, 2025- Two Weeks Later- 9 Months-

Yuri's POV

"I'm not going!" 

"You have to go!"

"Yuri, no!"

"It's the Grand Prix Final!"

"It's the ninth month!" He fires back at me, gesturing toward where I stand, a hand on my stomach. It's come to be my automatic pose and right now it's not helping matters.

"It'll be fine," I remove the hand quickly, trying to strengthen my argument, "We have three weeks,"

"What if it's early?" My husband asks me, "What if something happens and I'm halfway across the globe!"

"It won't!" I groan, and my hand returns to my stomach without my knowledge,

"What about that?" Otabek raises an eyebrow, "You know it's worse when I'm not here, the Cup of China proved that,"

"How would you know?" I snap and find myself incredibly annoyed, "Just go Beka!"

"I am not leaving you here for some silly competition!"

"Silly competition!" I shout back at him, "This is all you've worked for! The culmination of your career! You can win this year, I know you can, don't throw it all away for nothing!"

"This isn't nothing!" He seems hurt, "This is my husband and my child, the Grand Prix is nothing!"

"It isn't nothing, it's everything!" I scream back at him and gasp in spite of myself; she doesn't like it when we argue.

"Yuri," I sink down onto the couch and my husband's beside me in a second, knowing that I'm in pain. He puts a hand on my stomach and she calms down a bit, knowing that we're not fighting anymore. "This is why I don't want to leave you," He says gently, imploring me to see things from his point of view. "I could never forgive myself if something happens and I can't be here,"

"I know that," I say softly, "But I need you to trust me- it won't happen, I can feel it." He looks away from me, breaking our gaze.

"Please don't make me do this," He says quietly, "Please don't make me fight you, I hate it when we argue and especially now-" His eyes stray again to my bump, larger now than I ever thought possible. 

"I love you," I move forward slightly to kiss him but he beats me to it, joining me on the couch and caressing my cheek. "You're right, this isn't fair. I know that. It's just-" I pause again and try to stop this from sounding too pathetic. "I miss it," I say quietly, and hate myself for the tears that spring to my eyes.

"I know," He says and gives me a hug, stroking my hair gently. "You'll get back to it, I promise," I nod and run a hand over my face before taking his,

"Please, will you win this?" I look at him once more, beseechingly, "For me?" He bites his lip, looking as if he would like more than anything else to give me what I want but can't do so.

"Promise?" He asks me, looking pained, "Do you promise I won't miss it?" I nod and he sighs, "Okay."

***

"He's going to underrotate it- yup. Ouch, that has to hurt," I wince sympathetically for the man on the screen, he is not doing well. He gets to his feet quickly and continues with his routine, but he can't hide the grimace of pain on his face as he winds up for the next move. He finishes his Free Skate with 289.32 as a total score, not great but he screwed up his technical elements so badly I'm surprised it's not lower.

"Did you see that?" My husband's voice comes through the phone, "Was he seriously trying for a quad Axel? That's insane, no wonder he fell." 

"Yeah, he barely got a triple in, what was he thinking?" I agree as the competitor's scores fade away and he leaves the kiss and cry, seemingly being told off by his coach. As the next skater mounts the ice, I gasp,

"What!?" Otabek asks me quickly, sounding scared, "Did something happen?!" 

"No, I'm fine," I say, and I am. "You're up next!" 

"I know that," He replies and seems totally unperturbed by it, "Are you sure you're okay? I can probably get a flight back or-"

"Beka, I promise you, nothing is wrong," I say, cutting him off. "But you, on the other hand, have to go,"

"I have a few minutes," He says vaguely, stalling.

"No, now." I return firmly, "You have to be entirely warmed up, and you can't stretch while you're on the phone with me,"

"But-"

"Go," I say laughing, "You're going to be amazing!"

"I love you," He says and I can hear his smile through the phone.

"I love you too," I reply with a matching one and hang up, knowing he won't. He's been afraid to end calls since he left, worried that if he does he'll miss something and I won't be able to notify him. I can't blame him though, I forced him to do this, and I feel really guilty about it. He's only this overprotective because he loves me, I can't exactly fault him for that. Although, how someone as wonderful as him can love me, the stubborn arrogant asshole that I am, I'll never know.

I return my eyes to the screen in front of me and feel my heart speed up as my husband steps onto the ice, greeting the crowd in the customary fashion, although shooting the cameras a genuine smile I know is meant for me. I smile back and watch, transfixed, as he begins his program. He looks so beautiful moving to the music, his body perfectly attuned to the tempo and flowing seamlessly along through the routine. I gasp as he launches himself into the air, and release the breath as he lands safely, relieved even though I knew he would. By the time he strikes his final pose I'm close to tears, annoyed at myself for being so overdramatic, but knowing it was justified as his program was truly perfect. And, as I knew he would, he wins the gold.