"Val, can you hand me the decorations?" Candace, my wife, is leaning over the Christmas tree, hooking a glass ornament onto an evergreen branch.

I pick up the box and bring it to her. "Which ones do you want?" I ask.

"I think the elves will be fine," she says, mistletoe hanging from her mouth.

"Would you like a kiss?" I ask her, putting an arm around her waist as she leans on me for support. "Maybe I should be doing the decorating." I look at her rounded belly, and rub my palm over it.

She smiles, batting me on the arm. "I might be pregnant, but I'm not an invalid. I can decorate the tree."

"I don't like you standing on that stool... What if you slipped?" I ask, worriedly. "You'd better let me do it."

She sighs, relenting and handing me the box of ornaments. "I'm going to make the kids some lunch, okay? Pavel should be here in a bit."

I almost stumble and fall off of the stool. "What, Pavel? He's coming here?"

Candace eyes me, curiously. "Val, he's your brother. He comes every year on your guys' only day off," she scolds.

"Oh, uh..." I pause, a loss for words. "Okay... Sorry, I was a little surprised... I, uh, thought he was going to spend Christmas with his new girlfriend..."

"Rebecca, the model from Tampa?" she asks.

I nod.

"He dumped her last week. You guys must not have been speaking for a while if you don't even know who he's seeing," she teases, shaking her head and heading for the kitchen with the children in her arms.

I sigh, and gather my wits about me. I can't react like that when Pavel and his guest come into my home. I've got to keep a hold on my emotions and not slaughter him over dinner.

As I complete the task of putting up Candace's decorations, someone covers my eyes with the palms of their hands.

"Guess who," the voice whispers in my ear.

I jab my elbow into my brother's side and climb down off of the stool. "Not here," I scold him, glaring at him, stonily. "Not around Candy, okay? And where's your lady friend?"

"Rebecca? I dumped her last week," he replies, flippantly.

Pavel is wearing a black wool pea coat and his dark, wavy hair hangs in front of his eyes, like fringe, hiding them from view. He licks his lips, and brushes his hair out of his face.

"Oh. I'm sorry." I turn to put the empty cardboard box aside, when he steps forward, grinning at me. This can't be a good sign.

"Aren't you going to kiss me hello?" he asks, mischievously, winking. He holds out his hands to me, opening his arms. "Give your brother a kiss."

For a second, I want to laugh. "Pavel, I'm not kissing you."

"Aw, you kiss me all the time," he states, louder this time. "Why should tonight be any different?"

"Shut UP," I insist, through clenched teeth. "I won't have you ruin tonight! Candace has been working for weeks to make tonight's dinner perfect, and if you fuck it up, I'll kill you."

"Fuck it up? How," he asks, running his thumb down the side of my cheek.

I stand still, like I've been paralyzed. I do that whenever he puts his hands on me. "YOU know how, Pavel."

"I think I like it better when you call me Pasha. It's much more romantic, don't you think?" He asks.

He's really asking for it right now. I ball my hand into a fist, preparing to hit him.

"Not now," I stress, clenching my fist so tightly, my knuckles ache.

Pavel grins at me and removes his jacket. "Hang up my jacket, Val."

I accept it, glaring at him. I do whatever he says. I'm a pushover. I don't deserve anything more than Pavel.

---

After I hang up his jacket, Candace, Pavel and I sit in the living room, waiting for the rest of the guests to arrive. Pavel fawns over our baby-to-be, rubbing her belly, and for a split second, I feel a flash of insane jealousy, before I remind myself that I'd rather have Pavel touch my wife than me.

"If it is a boy, what will you name it," he asks, touching her stomach and laughing, as if he has not a care in the world.

My wife giggles. "That tickles, Pasha," she scolds. "As for baby names... We were thinking maybe Sergei, or Ilya."

"And for a girl," he asks.

"Mila, we both liked Mila, and Maria. Right Val?" she asks, looking over Pavel's bowed head, trying to draw me into the conversation.

"Why so sullen, baby brother," he asks, mockingly.

I glare at him. "Nothing that concerns you, PASHA," I snap, spitting out the hated nickname like a bad taste.

"If I had a daughter, I'd probably name her Maria. That is a good name," he announces.

"When I want your input, I'll ask for it," I snap at him, moving away from him on the couch. "Candy, I'm going to look in on the kids, okay?" I jump up and run up the stairs to the nursery.

---

"Zdrastvuite, Maxim." I lean over the railing of the white wooden crib and tickle baby Max on the sole of his feet. "Daddy's here."

He gazes up at me, eyes swelled with love, and I forget about Pavel. I have all I need here in my children.

He closes a small, chubby hand around my index finger and pulls it into his mouth.

"Your children are adorable."

"Go away, Pasha," I sigh, picking the baby up into my arms.

He brushes his hand over Max's hair. "He's a handsome boy, you know. Looks just like his dad."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," I state, numbly, holding the baby against my chest, as if I were using him as a shield against Pavel's advances.

"I know." He smiles, as he looks down on Max. "One day, I'll have children of my own. I only hope my family's as wonderful as yours."

"You and a woman procreating?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. 'When's the last time we've even had a normal conversation not laced with sexual innuendo? THAT feels more natural than this...'

Pavel moves his hand away from Max's hair. "Do you hate me?" he asks, out of the blue.

"What kind of question is that?" I ask, caught off guard.

"Do you hate me for doing this to you?" he asks, softly.

"I don't hate you. I hate US," I shrug, setting Max in his crib and making sure the baby monitor is working to its full capacity.

Pavel wraps his arms around my waist and rests his forehead on the back of my neck. "I'm sorry Val. I wish I could change what we did," he sighs, heavily. "I wish I could change what I am."

I shrug him off, and turn to face him. "You need to grow up. This isn't fun and games."

"I know... But..." He pauses, sucking on his bottom lip. He grabs my hands in his and takes a deep breath. "I like what we have, Val. That's the sick part."

I pull away from him. "Maybe you should go back to therapy then. Check into hypnosis, perhaps," I reply, harshly.

His expression appears wounded. "If I lost you, I'd kill myself, Val."

"You're being melodramatic."

"I know, but I love you," he says, desparately.

"Just drop it, Pasha, okay? Don't ruin my Christmas." I step away from him, nearing the nursery door.

"You know its true," he says.

"What?"

"That we belong together."

I look at the floor, pretending I didn't hear that. "Come on, the guests are probably wondering where the host and his brother are."

He follows me out of the childrens' room and I shut the door behind us.

Part 2 | Part 4