The moment I say it, the strength drains out of me. My knees give way, and before I can hit the ground, Rafe is there. He catches me, one arm firm around my waist, the other guiding me back to the seat. I fold into him, shaking.
He presses his lips to my temple, murmuring something only I can hear. “You did him proud, Kas.”
At Mama and Tata’s afterward, the air feels different, tired, raw, brittle. The house smells like stew and candle wax. People talk softly, eat little, cry quietly.
Then Natalia breaks the silence with a cracked grin. “Why is it that food at funerals always tastes worse? It’s like it’smadewith sadness.”
Rafe lets out a low laugh, small, reflexive. It’s human. Dominik’s chair scrapes back hard. He’s across the room in three strides.
“You think this isfunny?” he snaps. “My brother, my best friend, his funeral, and you’relaughing,Mr. Celebrity?This is just somejoketo you, huh?”
“No,” Rafe says, steady but cautious. “No, I don’t. I—”
“What the hell are you even doing here? Haven’t you done enough?”
I step between them, heart pounding. “Dominik, stop—”
Rafe lifts a hand slightly, calm, careful. “I’m sorry for your loss. For everyone’s. I’m—”
He weaves around me, too fast. Dominik’s fist connects before the sentence finishes. The sound cracks through the room like lightning. Rafe stumbles back a step, hand flying to his face. Blood blooms under his fingers, his lip split, jaw knocked and red.
Natalia’s voice cuts through the chaos, furious. “Dominik Aleksander Nowicki! You think Piotr would approve of this?In front of the kids? Really?”
The whole room freezes. She’s standing now, hands on her hips, fire in her eyes, the spitting image of our brother when he was angry. “We’re supposed totake careof them, not scare them. Jesus Christ, Dominik. Go upstairs. Cool off! Thick skull and dumb decisions, exactly what Piotr would’ve said.”
Mama crosses herself under her breath. “Boze, zachowaj nas.(God, save us.)”
Dominik’s breathing hard, chest heaving, but he listens. He turns and storms upstairs, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the old walls.
I turn to Rafe, grab a bag of frozen peas from the freezer, and press them gently to his jaw. “You okay?”
He nods, wincing, then tries to grin. “Guess I deserved that at some point in my life.”
I shake my head. “You really didn’t. It’s probably too late to take back that check, right?” We both give a weak laugh.
Later, after checking on Rafe again, I go upstairs. Dominik’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hands over his face.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters. I sit beside him, my body feels heavy, like my bones are made of grief, fashioned from loss. Everything harder to move. We sit in silence, the sound of our breathing the only exchange. Finally, he exhales, it sounds as heavy as I feel.
“I don't know what the fuck I'm doing." I look at him, tears shining in both our eyes.
"None of us do," I say, with a shrug of defeat.
"He was bossy enough for all of us, huh? Told us what to do, so we never had to think." We both laugh, weak but honest. I nod, looking at him, my eyes searching his face, the pain so apparent there.
"What do you think he'd tell us, if he could?" I ask, partly in jest, but also partly in hope. I'd give anything to hear his advice, to feel his steady palm on my shoulder. "Other than not to punch people in front of the kids?" I tease, nudging him.
"He told meexactlywhat to do and I'm already messing it up." I raise an eyebrow. "He told meto take care of Aga, of the kids." The words struggle to form as tears demand their due. "I didn't want to listen. I tried to lift the car, like an idiot.” He shakes his head. “He grabbed my collar, made me stop. He knew he wouldn't make it. He only cared about her, that she knew he loved her and the kids. That I listened to him." He breaks down into sobs, I lean against him and let them come. When he composes himself he looks at me through red-rimmed eyes, through a pain that won't ease. "That’sthe kind of man he was.Better than me.” He stares at me, broken. I can barely take it, then he looks down again, staring at his hands. “Better than the kind that punches people at funerals.” His shoulders shake. “He deserved a long life. He should be here instead of me.”
“Don't say things like that. Helovedyou, Dominik... so do I, like family.Always.”
He looks at me, eyes shining. “Hetrustedme to take care of her, of the kids.Me, this idiot.” He waves the bruised hand he used to punch Rafe with as evidence of his stupidity. I turn to him, force him to look at me.
“That’s how much he thought of you. To look after hismost preciousgifts.” I cup his cheek, wiping his tears, smiling through the ache. “So don’t let us down, okay?No more punching, you're an example for them now.”
A small, broken laugh escapes him. He nods. “Thank you, Kasia.” He takes my hands and kisses my knuckles, holds them to his lips and breathes deep. It doesn’t feel like a rekindling, it feels like transformation. The final puzzle piece, from what we were into what we’ll always be, a form of love altered into this.
When I close the door behind me, Rafe’s waiting in the hall. No words, just open arms.
