69. Natalia

69

NATALIA

The moment Andrey is out of sight, I crumble.

I sob like a baby, curled up on the deck chair. I wrap my arms tightly around my shivering body, afraid I'll fall to literal pieces.

I want to call Andrey back so he can hold me. I want to talk to Mila and Katya, to try to feel even an ounce of the hope they seem to have that everything will be okay.

But I can't. I have to do this alone.

I haven't even left yet and already, I'm so unbearably lonely.

The sound of approaching footsteps has me darting upright and wiping the tears hastily from my face.

Of all the people I imagine might be coming, Yelena is the last person I expect to see mounting the steep steps with muffled complaints.

She heaves to a stop in front of me, squinting down at my face. I may have wiped away my tears but I can feel how red and puffy my eyes are. I won't fool her.

"Are you okay, dorogoya?

I shrug. "As okay as can be expected."

She claims the pool chair next to mine. Her arthritic old fingers cup my knee as she offers me a sad, sympathetic smile. "Everything's alright now. Your aunt and your friends are safe. And you're home again."

"Slavik, Viktor, and Nikolai are still out there," I point out. "And they're coming for me, Yelena. I can feel it in my bones. If not me, they'll want my baby."

I think about the way Nikolai looked at my stomach. Like it was something evil and unholy growing inside of me. Not a baby, but a beast. Something to be slaughtered before it grew too big to be controlled.

I expect more words of comfort from Yelena. I expect more assurances that everything will work out for the best, that Andrey will magically sort everything out and there will be a happily ever after at the end of this story.

But Yelena says no such thing.

She does the opposite, actually. She bites down on her bottom lip as though she's trying to stop herself from saying something damaging.

Then she sighs. "I don't want to lie to you, child."

"W-what do you mean?"

"This life—the Bratva life—it's a hard one. Especially when you have a family." She looks out towards the trees and I imagine she's picturing her own family. The husband she lost to someone else's war.

I don't know what to say, so I take her hand and squeeze it. "I'm sorry, Yelena."

She shrugs. "It was the life he chose. And this is the life I chose. I have no regrets."

"Andrey thinks he can protect us," I whisper, placing a hand on my stomach.

"All men think that," Yelena scoffs. "But it's just a lie they tell themselves. Andrey is no more capable of protecting you than he was of protecting my husband."

The sudden lash of bitterness in her voice takes me back. Not once, in all the time I've known her, has she betrayed the slightest bit of resentment towards Andrey. But I can see it now, lying just beneath the surface of her maternal kindliness.

Festering. Like a rotten wound.

"I ask myself sometimes why I stayed here, after everything that happened. You might've wondered the same thing, yes?" I don't answer, but she carries on. "I suppose I thought I could keep the memory of my husband close if I stayed a part of the world he died for."

The silence thuds and pulses. It stretches forever and collapses into the blink of an eye. I feel the words in my mouth before I've even decided to say them.

"Yelena…?"

She stares back, unblinking. As though she already knows what I'm about to ask her.

"Do you think it would be better… if I left?"

More silence.

Then: "I think you have to."

My heart is thumping traitorously in my chest. If she will help me, then Mila and Katya can stay out of it. No one will ever suspect Yelena. Quiet, diligent, loyal Yelena.

No one will get hurt.

No one will be blamed.

And my children will get the clean start they deserve.

She stands with a pained grunt. "Wait here."

Without another word, she drops my hand and hobbles along the cobbled pathway back to the stairs. I watch her go until she disappears inside the house.

Then, once she's gone, I abandon the deck chair and rush into the pool house. I find a notebook and a pencil in the drawer of the writing desk.

And I start writing.

To my family,

That's as far as I get before the tears cloud my vision and everything dissolves into a fuzzy haze. Biting down on my tongue, I wipe my eyes dry and try to focus.

This is important.

I'm sorry for leaving this way. I wish I could've hugged you all and told you how much you mean to me. Know that I will be thinking of all of you every single day.

But it's better this way.

Olaf, Leonty, Leif, Shura—thank you for protecting me. Thank you for risking your lives for me even though you didn't have to.

Yelena—thank you for taking care of me. For showing me kindness and for giving me the benefit of your wisdom and your advice.

Mila and Katya—I couldn't ask for better friends. Look after each other for me. And live for me, too.

Aunt Annie—you're the best aunt I could have ever hoped for. Thank you for sacrificing your life to raise me. I love you to the moon and back.

Misha—I'm entrusting Remi to you, my boy. I didn't get as much time with either of you as I wanted, but you will always be in my heart. You taught me how to be a mother. I couldn't be prouder of you.

And finally, Andrey ? —

Again, I have to stop. I purposely saved him for last because I knew it would be the hardest goodbye to make. Even on paper, it's destroying me.

A blur of movement catches my eye. I look up to see Yelena coming down the path. Panicking, I turn my attention back to the paper.

Look after all of them for me. And I will look after your— after a small internal debate, I finally write down— child .

It's going to be bad enough losing one baby. I don't want to give him the added burden of knowing he lost two.

Please know that I did this not to hurt you, but to protect our family. I hope you know how much you mean to me.

All my love,

Natalia

Folding up the note, I stash it in the drawer of the writing cabinet and join Yelena outside on the patio.

"I've arranged it," she says bluntly. "It's all fixed."

I know I should be asking more questions. Fixed with who? How did you arrange this so fast? Where do I go? How will I live?

But I settle on the question that seems the most urgent.

"When?"

Her answer is immediate. "Right now."