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The end of her self-enforced independence.
The end of pretending that we are anything other than destined.
Yuliana takes a few stuttered steps that turn into a skip and then a full-on sprint for the tallest slide. How long did it take for her to gain this kind of confidence? How many times did Rayne have to hold Yuliana in her lap and slide down the slide with her before she felt comfortable doing it herself?
How much have I missed?
“I missed her first steps,” I whisper. “Crawling, her first words, her first foods. All of it.”
Rayne stiffens next to me. “I’ve already apologized.”
“You know as well as I do that apologies don’t bring back what is lost.”
Ilya sits between us like a ghost, a presence so palpable I’d swear I could reach out and touch him. Fuck, how I wish I could.
“If it makes you feel any better, you didn’t miss her first words by that much.”
“She’s almost five, isn’t she?”
Rayne nods. “She had to get into speech therapy before she started talking.”
Again, I see Ilya. I think of the years immediately after his brain injury where I had to coax the tiniest syllables out of him. Talking was always difficult, even before our father smashed his head into the tile. He was never especially outspoken. Not like me.
“She’s doing fine now,” Rayne adds in a rush. “She’s good. Great.”
“I’ll go talk to her and find out for myself.” I take a step towards the playground, but then Rayne reaches for my hand.
The second her fingers touch mine, she jerks back like I’m on fire. Her hand flexes at her side. She felt the same electric jolt I did.
“Yuli is shy. New people make her nervous.”
“So you’re saying it would be a bad idea to tell her I’m her long last dad come to take her home with me?”
Rayne’s mouth falls slack. “You can’t—She isn’t ready for—Don’t tell her who you are!”
“Shockingly enough, I’d figured out that was a bad idea on my own.”
She blows out a relieved breath. “That’s not funny. You almost gave me a heart attack.”
Chuckling, I step onto the playground, just as Yuliana shoots out of the bottom of the tube slide and plants her light-up shoes on the green turf. She’s grinning, her hair already sticking to her forehead with sweat. Then she looks up at me and her smile falls away.
My chest squirms.
“You stuck the landing. Ten out of ten from the Russian judge.” I hold up ten fingers, even though I’m fairly sure she doesn’t get the reference. “Do you like slides?”
She looks over my shoulder for Rayne, her green eyes sending silent SOS messages out to her mom.
“Your mom said I could come talk to you. Is that okay?”
“You left.”
Suddenly, Yuliana is staring straight into my soul. For a second, I think she’s talking about five years ago when I left town and, unknowingly, a pregnant Rayne. Then I remember—
“The other day after I dropped you off? Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I had an emergency.”
She looks me over from head to toe, her gaze shrewd. “Do you have a pendix?”
“A what?”
