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A moment of levity in an otherwise heavy day. It’s a glimpse of the boy he once was, hiding behind the hardened man he has become.
“I remember when I was Yulia’s age,” he starts, his voice tinted with nostalgia. “Papa had just bought this land. The whole hill, the lake, everything you see.”
I blink in astonishment.
The entire hill? The lake?
I couldn’t even begin to comprehend that level of wealth and power.
“When he brought me here for the first time,” he continues, lost in the memory. “I thought it was the most amazing place on earth.”
“And your mother?” I ask, curious about this tender piece of his past.
“My Mama…she loved it here,” he admits. I sense an undercurrent of raw pain in his voice. “She’d spend hours by the lake. It was her refuge.”
His stories open a window to a past I’ve never imagined. It makes me look at him differently. It makes me understand him better.
Which is…a fuckup.
It’s becoming increasingly difficult to remember why I’m here. My task seems to grow heavier with each shared laugh, each shared moment.
I’m a spy, not a nanny, not a…whatever this is. But God, it’s getting so fucking hard to remember that.
Chapter 42
Luka
I WATCH as Sophia trots away with Yulia, my sister urgently whispering something about needing to pee. It leaves me alone with Ekaterina. There’s a pause as we watch them disappear into the house.
“You do good with Yulia,” Ekaterina finally breaks the silence, and I’m sure I hear pride in the words.
Switching to our native Russian, I confess to Ekaterina, “Yulia’s an easy kid. She’s really warmed up to Sophia, too. She thinks…well, she thinks Sophia is like Belle from Beauty and the Beast.” I shrug. What do I know about kids’ fairy tales?
Ekaterina chuckles at that, a sound that takes me back to simpler times. Then she looks at me warmly. “You seem happy, Luka,” she remarks. “Truly happy. It’s good to see you like this.”
I can feel the truth of her words, the lightness in my heart, the calmness that wasn’t there before. She’s right. I am happy.
Her gaze moves to where Sophia has just disappeared with my sister. “I like that one. Keep her. She might be young,” she begins, “but there’s a depth in her eyes. A maturity. She’ll be good for you, Luka. Good for Yulia as well.” The silence that follows is pregnant with unspoken words. Then she murmurs, “I missed seeing you like this, carefree and happy.”
Her words strike a chord, and for a brief moment, I mull over them. It’s as if she voiced the feelings I’ve been pushing away. It feels strange, yet comforting.
Tears start to form in Ekaterina’s eyes, a mirror of her emotions. “I missed this, Luka,” she admits, her voice thick with emotion. “I missed this part of you.”
I shake my head, the corners of my mouth pulling into a bitter smile. “This part of me, Ekaterina,” I say, “this part is weakness.”
Walking into Yulia’s room, the sight that greets me strikes me dumb. Yulia is nestled against Sophia, both lost to the world in deep a sleep on a comfortable floor sofa. At their feet, Max is sprawled on the floor. It’s a picture of peace.
There’s a powerful urge to join them, to fit myself into that serenity.
What the hell is this feeling?
I can’t stop my heart from yearning.
Yearning for more.
Pizdets.
I walk quietly over the carpeted floor, carefully extracting Yulia from Sophia’s hold. Her sleepy smile as I tuck her into her own bed is a reward in itself. It was a good day, filled with laughter, so different from our usual lives.
