Thirteen

Sofia

I finished a whole week at the hospital in the ER in preparation for my rotation in pediatrics, and it was amazing—tiring but amazing. Despite my struggles, I have finally made it, and I hope when my girl is older, she will see how hard her mamma worked for us to have a better life. I'd just finished an evening shift last night. April stayed with Mila for me before she went back to her place after giving my cheek a kiss and mumbling about needing her beauty sleep because she has a date tomorrow. Poor fool, she will eat him up and spit him out, but he must know what he's getting into; they've known each other for years.

She must have seen the look on my face because she just growled and stated, "I'm going to last longer with this one this time! I've waited years for him to pull his head out of his ass and ask me out. All these stupid men, I've wasted time waiting for him!"

I laughed my ass off. She's a serial dater while waiting for the one she actually wanted to man up, while the rest were just boring stand-ins where she gave up by the second date, knowing she only wanted him. I locked up after she left with her middle finger above her head, and then I showered, checked on my girl, and fell straight asleep.

Now, I currently have a two-year-old poking my nose, trying to wake me up. I smile, then try to get her finger with my mouth, causing her to have a fit of giggles—music to my ears every morning.

"Morning principessa." I call her “princess” in Italian, then give her a kiss on the nose, causing her to giggle some more. "Mamma am golodnyy," she states in Russian, telling me she’s hungry, but calling me mamma in Italian. She deviates between the three languages I've been teaching her, which means sometimes I'm mamma in Russian. We just go with the flow. I smile at my smart little ballerina.

"Okay, baby, mamma is just going to use the bathroom, then we can get breakfast; we have that birthday party today at Amy's, then we can go to the park for a little while this afternoon. Mamma is off work for three whole days. Do you need the potty, baby?" She squeals in delight, making me smile. She jumps off the bed without answering me as usual, and goes to the bathroom to use her potty without asking for help. At the same time, she starts singing “Row, Row Your Boat” in Russian, then switching it to Italian, then English. I shake my head with a smile.

Once she's done, she washes her hands, and then kisses me.

"Go play in your room. Mamma will be there to get you ready in a few minutes, okay?"

She nods, then goes into her room. I watch her go before I head into the bathroom, clean up after Mila, and then do my morning routine.

I've tried to make sure Mila has both of her heritage languages; it's not her fault her dad and family are the way they are. She deserves to know who she is. That's why her middle name is Maria, after her babushka. Still, it's currently her last name until she decides if she wants to be a Volkov or Russo, or if Damian finds us beforehand and signs the documents I've made. But that's most likely not going to happen; it's been three years, and he hasn't found us yet.

When she is older, she will want to know all about her family, which is why I made a scrapbook full of pictures and memories that I brought with me for her. If she wants to contact her family, that'll be her choice. Still, for now, I'm protecting her from them and that life. If they find us, I already have a plan in place with my lawyer.

Sometimes, it can be hard. Do I miss them all? Yes, every day. I see the Volkov family in Mila, but I know this is what's best. I was blind; I thought Damian loved me. I gave him everything, but it wasn't enough. I thought he was my best friend, my lover, and that I was everything to him, like he was everything to me. But it was all a lie.

Most likely Mila will want contact with him when she's older. In that case, I already have a lawyer involved with certain paperwork for Damian to sign before he can see her. I need to ensure she is safe and that what happened to me will never happen to her. I want her to fall in love naturally, not for her to be forced into it. As for my family, my mother was an abusive and jealous alcoholic because of what my father put her through. She loved with her whole heart, and he broke her after someone decided to lie to them both about infidelities. Neither of them knows the truth, of course, but I do because Noah uncovered it for me. We're just trying to figure out who began the cascade of lies, but I have suspicions. Instead of confronting each other like a normal couple, both my parents strayed to get back at each other, but my father took it too far, and one of his mistresses claimed she was pregnant, causing my mother to forget the love she had for me, turning her into a vile woman. Eventually, she stopped the verbal and physical abuse, and sleeping with other men, giving up on her marriage and herself altogether. She'd just get intoxicated, then proceeded to pass out, leaving her bodyguard, Mattia, to beat me and sexually assault me when no one was around.

Now, I'm not normally a violent person, but I've thought of a way or two of how I'd kill her bodyguard and make him suffer. As for my mother, I had hoped she'd finally get the help she needed, but she didn't. One day, I will tell my father everything she put me through because of him and his adulterous ways, to make him see what he put his family through by believing someone else's word regarding an affair that didn't happen. The information that Noah found for me showed my mother slept with someone after my 8th birthday because someone cornered her about my father cheating; knowing she wouldn't confront my father because she had always been a little insecure. She believed the lies because my father's love was one of her biggest weaknesses. He was already pulling away from her, making her think the person was right.

Noah got all the information for me two years ago when things just didn't add up. Someone was trying to break up my family. I think it was Zia Emilia, wanting more money from my father but thinking my mother was trying to get him to pull back even though it was the other way round. I thought a lot about her behavior toward me on my wedding day, it's the only thing that makes sense. Still, I have no proof; Noah's been trying to find it since I left, and we keep in contact once a month.

I sigh.

Both my parents fell for the lies, leaving me in the middle of their war. My father showed too much affection to me, while my mother showed none and got jealous instead. I should have said something years ago, but I was just a girl craving her mother's love again, which is really pathetic. And my father, well, I was a daddy's girl; I was his piccolo principessa. But he betrayed me and used me like I was some bargaining chip. It was all an act for him, and then he left me with a woman who was turning into an alcoholic and an abuser because of her insecurities. So, I'm done with them until they sort themselves out.

Noah is watching them, but they're still just as bad, except for my mother. She just drinks a lot now, while my father looks to be moving his mistress, one he doesn’t even like, into one of his hotels. It's more of a “fuck you” to my mamma. If my nonna were here, she'd sort them out, but unfortunately, she’s dead. My only regret was losing her diamond heirloom hair clip, and I will forever feel guilty about it.

I shake out of my thoughts; they're too painful.

I finish my routine and dress in jean shorts, my cowgirl boots, and a white, V-neck t-shirt, and put my hair in a high ponytail. I don't bother with make-up, I never do these days, and I go to Mila's room. I smile when I see she's having a little tea party with her Barbie, two teddies, and her picture frame of her daddy and her uncles, dyadya Alexandr and dyadya Sergi.

My smile turns sad.

She doesn't understand why her daddy's not here, but she doesn't get upset. She just nods when I say he's busy with work.

I go to her and say, "Okay, Principessa, let's get you dressed, sweetheart, then we can get breakfast." She smiles and nods at me, and I help her change into her jean shorts because she wants to look like her mamma—her words, not mine. Then, I put on her Disney Belle t-shirt, before I put her dark hair in a braided pigtail, then kiss her nose before carrying her into the kitchen, where I sit her in her chair.

I ask, "What would you like this morning, bambina?"

"French toast!" she shouts, making me laugh.

I make the French toast, her favorite, just like her dad's, and wait until she's finished before I pour her a glass of milk and clean her and the small kitchen. I get her bag with a change of just-in-case clothes, wipes, and diapers for if she needs them. So far, her potty training is going amazing, with no accidents, so hopefully, we won't need them. Then I grab the wrapped Frozen Elsa doll that Mila chose for her friend, and get Mila's jacket and Frozen sneakers on. Once I have my coat on, we lock up and head out.

As we pass April’s apartment, we knock to let her know we’re leaving.

Through the door, she shouts, "Have fun!"

Making Mila giggle while I just shake my head with a little chuckle. It takes ten minutes to get to Amy's on foot, and Lindsey, her mom, answers with a bright smile while Mila runs ahead of me, taking the present to her friend. The party last three hours, and once the kids play games and have a range of food from chicken nuggets to sandwiches to cakes and ice cream, and Amy opens her presents, we say thank you and wave bye to the children who haven't been picked up yet. Only a handful of parents stayed, including me. I don't like to leave her if I do not have to.

"Mamma, park?" Mila asks while holding my hand, looking up at me, and switching to Russian again. I smile, bend down, and pick her up.

"Are you too tired?" I ask with a smile. She shakes her head furiously, making me chuckle. "Ok, bambina, let's go then." She squeals with delight again, wiggles to get down, then holds my hand. It only takes five minutes to get to the park near our apartment, and when we do, Mila runs toward the swings, making me smile. We spend twenty minutes there before she wants to slide. After another fifteen minutes, she decides to play in the sandbox.

Once I know she's happy there, I point to the bench just a few feet away to tell her that's where I'll be sitting, making her nod and smile at me. I lean down and kiss her forehead.

Just as I sit down on the park bench, a shadow falls over me. I look up and pale.

"Hello, mladshaya sestra." Little sister. Alexandr.

I look at Mila but she's not paying any attention, she's too busy building sandcastles.

I look back at Alexandr and ask, "How'd you find me?"

He sits next to me on the bench, placing his arm on the back of it behind me, his eyes on Mila.

"Fucking luck, we've been searching for you for three years now. It was by chance that one of our men was in the area, meeting the MC one town over. He noticed you coming out of the grocery store. We didn't believe it until we noticed that." He points to my necklace with my wedding rings, then turns back to look at Mila again.

Fuck, I couldn't part with them. Even after all this time, Damian’s always going to be my one and only love. I'm bound to him, but that doesn't mean I want anything to do with him.

"It's then we knew it was you, although…." He looks me in the eye now and nods his head toward Mila. "We thought she was your neighbor’s kis, and you just watched her. We couldn't even find a birth certificate for her because, clearly, we were looking in the wrong direction. But she's not your neighbor’s kid, is she? Because she's a spitting image of me, her dedushka—my father, and her dad. The timing also seems right. I sat over there on that bench opposite you and watched as you played with her. I remembered a conversation with my brother; he mentioned you had something important, some life-changing news to tell him two days before the wedding. I'm guessing that new was about that little girl there."

I'm at a loss for words, feeling sicker by the minute. I want to grab her and run, but I know I can't. They have eyes on me now.

He continues, "He doesn't know; he still thinks she's your friend's kid." He sighs, "He is here, as are my parents and your father. We haven't told your mother yet, for obvious reasons. We agreed I'd approach you first before anyone else does; we've always been close, and I know I lied to you, too…. He's put you through a lot, as well as me and our families, and I know why you did it—left, kept her a secret. He broke you, and we all let him, your family, and the people you love. You felt betrayed, but that wasn't a good enough reason to keep her from us or her dad, was it? I'm betting you were still going to let him have access and be a father. I'm guessing maybe a day before the ceremony, you figured out you were having a girl, and you were scared she would have the same fate you did. You wanted to protect her."

I shoot my head in his direction, and he looks back at me with sincerity and pain. He hit the nail on the head. Well, that, and I don't want my mother anywhere near her until she’s sober and Mattia is no longer around.

"I'm sorry, Sofia. I'm sorry for my part in it all; you were the little sister I never wanted, but I loved you dearly like one anyway, and I helped them break you. I'm sorry, and I've missed you, mladshaya sestra."

I feel the tears well up in my eyes and stare at him for a minute as his eyes start to turn glossy, and I can't help my reaction. I lunge forward, wrap my arms around his neck, and hug him tight.

"I've missed you, too," I whisper with a small sob, and he squeezes tighter. Some tears have fallen and landed on his black shirt, but he holds me tighter.

We break apart a few minutes later, and I wipe my eyes as I hear a squeal from Mila and quickly turn my head to see her running our way.

"Dyadya Al," she cries out, then launches into his arms. I gasp and place my hand to my mouth as more tears fall while he catches her and holds her tight. He gazes at me with his glossy eyes, shocked that she knew who he was.

How can I keep them apart now? And more importantly, do I want to? But can I trust them not to do her what they did to me?

I sigh.

It looks like I'm contacting the lawyer sooner than I thought!