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How did you explain to a two-year-old that her mother was dead?
You didn’t. It was distressing enough as it was that she would be permanently separated from Irina, and regardless of how many times I had been told Irina was a bad mother, I was sure Lidiya didn’t see it that way. I liked to believe Lidiya loved her mother. Children were funny that way. When they gave an emotion, they gave it all. I wanted to believe that even Irina was not immune to her daughter’s love.
Lidiya soon got sick of playing and grabbed her blankie, throwing her thumb into her mouth. She approached me like it was no big deal to come on over and curl up on my lap, her legs dangling and her head resting on my chest.
I loved these moments, where it was just me and Lidi, where she gave that love so freely, almost as if she knew I needed it. I knew she wasn’t my daughter by blood, but she was the daughter of my heart.
Ten minutes passed, and the little angel was definitely asleep with all dangly limbs. I kissed her forehead and held her tight. I didn’t need any more than this.
I whispered into her hair, “I would have given anything to have a child like you, my Lidi. I’m glad you’re home.”
From behind me, in the open doorway, came, “You want children?”
Turning my head, I saw Lev standing there, a soft expression on seeing his two favorite girls. I smiled. “I love kids.” I quickly added, “I thought you were meant to be working, mister.”
He leaned his tall body against the wall. “I find myself distracted.”
I understood. Lev’s attempt to bury himself in Bleeding Hearts’ books was not working.
“Come here,” I told him.
He didn’t hesitate. I knew what he needed.
Once he was seated next to me on the sofa, I gently passed Lidiya over to him. The chubby little girl was hefted effortlessly onto Lev’s lap. She snuffled in her sleep, but quickly got comfortable on her father. He breathed a sigh of relief and pressed soft kisses into her hair.
He loved her so damn much. I found myself getting choked up over it.
Resting his cheek on her little head, he turned to me. “I make a good kid, if you’re interested,” he finished with a smile.
I chuckled and shook my head at his terrible joke. My smile wavered, as I knew it was time to bring up something I had been dreading. I’d been holding it in for a full week. It felt cheap to bring it up after Irina had died.
“Lev, sweetie,” I started, “I need to ask you something, and I need you to not get angry with me about it, okay?”
He frowned, rocking Lidiya. “Okay.”
My mouth dry, I tried to explain the quick way. “Alessio found the Petersons for me.” From the way his body stiffened, I had my answer. But I had to ask. “I need to know if you found them first. I need to know if you lied to me.”
Disappointment flooded me when he responded quietly, “I wasn’t ready for you to see them.” He went on, “I wasn’t ready for you to leave me.”
My eyes closing, I uttered a gentle, “I love you, Lev, but this…this was not about you.” My eyes prickled behind my closed lids. “I begged you to find them. You told me you would. Knowing I could have seen them over a month ago…it hurts.”
“I’m sorry,” he said in that robotic tone of his.
My eyes snapped open. “I don’t think you are.” I shook my head. “I think you’re sorry you got caught.” I stood and spoke gently, “I’m going to see them this week, and I’m taking Alessio with me. Don’t try to stop me.” I paused a moment. “I’m pissed at you, baby.” There was no heat in my saying that, only disappointment.
He blinked up at me, almost as if my quietly spoken statement shocked him. He repeated with more feeling, “I’m sorry, Mina.”
My voice flat, I walked out of the living room, muttering, “So am I.”
He found me lying on our bed an hour later, staring up at the ceiling.
My frustration was there, evident, but I wasn’t going to make Lev drown in it. That wasn’t my style. I forced a smile. “Hey. Where’s the princess?”
His eyes didn’t meet mine. “Nas stole her away.”
I checked the time on my phone. “She’s going to be hungry soon.”
“Yeah. Nas is keeping her for dinner. Ada made spaghetti.” He sighed, stepping into the room. “I need you to understand something about me.” I waited carefully. He opened his arms wide and stated, “I’m selfish.”
My brow bunched. “No, you’re not. You’re not selfish at all.”
His jaw tight, he sat on the edge of the bed and nodded. “I am. And I’m ruthless. When I want something, I will do whatever I can to get it.”
