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ONE YEAR LATER
I’m sitting on Maksim’s bench in the gardens, watching as the twins crawl around the grass. Ava is already pulling herself up, trying to walk. Anton is content to crawl around. Sometimes, he does away with crawling altogether and rolls like a pillbug.
They couldn’t be more different. I love that about them. It still amazes me how anyone could look at a child and see raw clay to be shaped and molded by the adults around them.
I look at my boy and my girl and I see flowers waiting to bloom.
I hear shuffling footsteps from the path and turn to see Ilya. It’s still a shock to see how much he has grown in the last year. The boy is at my shoulder now and he’s only eleven. He’s going to be taller than Maksim was. Hell, he might be taller than me, too.
He jumps onto the grass. “Aunt Paige is looking for you. She says everything is ready.”
“Aunt Paige can wait for a second.” I pat the empty seat next to me. “Sit down.” He sits, and I drape my arm over the back of the bench. “Thanks for helping out today.”
“It’s cool. I like hanging out with the family.”
“So do I.”
Not so long ago, I couldn’t stand being around my family. I loved them all so much, but it hurt. I sure as hell didn’t come hang out in this corner of the garden. Everything about them just made me think of Maksim.
Now, that isn’t a bad thing.
“Your father loved this part of the garden,” I tell Ilya. “He liked to meditate here.”
“Papa meditated?”
“He took it up after meeting your mother. He was all fire, all the time. She made him calm down.”
Ilya grins. “Mama says the same thing about you and Aunt Paige.”
“I can’t exactly argue with that.” I pat his back. “How are things? Is school okay?”
“Yeah, school is fine. Boring, but fine.”
“I heard you met Dima.”
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I did. He’s fine, too.”
I lean in, voice low. “You know your mother will always love your dad, right? That’s not going to change just because she met someone new.”
Ilya gives me a reluctant nod. I can tell by the angle of his jaw that he’s trying not to cry. “I know. I just… I still miss him. A lot.”
My heart aches. I want nothing more than to take that pain away from Ilya. Ava must feel it, too, because she totters over and pats Ilya on the leg, her chubby fist pulling at his pants.
I take her by the waist and lift her onto my lap. “I miss him, too. Every single day.”
“Sometimes, it feels like everyone has forgotten him,” Ilya admits.
“None of us have forgotten your father. He’s a part of every aspect of our lives. And the best thing we can do to remember him is to live well. Do you think your father would want you to be sad all the time?”
“Probably not.”
“Exactly. He’d want you to live. He’d want you to remember him, but he wouldn’t want you to fall apart with grief. We have to live the way he did—boldly and without regret.”
Ilya considers that for a moment. Then his gaze slips to Anton, who’s decided it’s a good idea to rip out handfuls of grass and stick it in his mouth.
Laughing, Ilya walks over and dusts the grass out of his hand. “I wish he could have seen them. He’d like these little gremlins.”
“So do I, Ilya. So do I.” I swipe at my misty eyes and get to my feet, hoisting Ava on my hip. “Let’s go. Everyone will be waiting.”
