13. Andrey

13

ANDREY

I can just about make out their silhouettes from my office window.

Aunt Annie braved the wet grass with her walking stick to follow Natalia out to the backyard, and I think guilt alone forced Natalia to stay put and listen to her.

At least, I hope she's listening. She won't stay within earshot of any of the rest of us, and the devil only knows what she intends to do next.

Remi is sitting between them, barking occasionally at the bats taking flight overhead.

I feel helpless. Useless. Marooned at a distance, unable to wade into Natalia's thoughts and beat the fucking brakes off the demons haunting her.

Something has to puncture through that thick skull of hers. But my usual brute force isn't getting anywhere close.

"Knock, knock." Mila sticks her head through my door. "Can I come in?"

"Only if you have something important to say."

She raises her eyebrows. "Everything I say is important, Andrey. Otherwise, I wouldn't say it."

Suppressing a sigh, I gesture her inside. "What is it, Mila?"

"I know it's frustrating, but you have to be patient with her," Mila advises. "She's not thinking straight at the moment."

"Is she ever?" I ask bitterly.

Mila ignores my grouchiness and glances out the window. "Ah, you've been spying."

"It's just a nice night, that's all. I'm inspecting how the new grass is coming in." I shove my hands in my pockets. "How did it go when you tried to talk to her? Did she hear you out or did she shoot you down?"

"Head shot, immediate kill. I retreated before I got a word in."

"Coward."

She scowls. "She called me your spy. And considering where I am right now, I don't really have a leg to stand on."

"You're not here for me, Mila. You're here for her."

"That's not how she sees it."

"Because she's not in her right mind," I growl. "Which is why she needs the damn therapist."

"Hey, I'm already convinced," Mila says, holding up her hands. "We just need to hope that Annie can do what all of us failed to do."

She joins me at the window and the two of us watch the distant silhouettes shamelessly. "I could just force her into the room. Tie her to the damn leather couch."

"And how do you expect to pry open her mind? Is there some martial art that can tear down the walls people have built around their hearts?" Mila purses up her lips. "She has to want to help herself before it has any shot of working."

I'm distracted from arguing with her good point by Natalia rising to her feet. She offers Annie a hand and the two of them meander back to the manor together.

I don't notice her leave, but when I look over, Mila is gone.

I'm still stewing in tonight's failure when the door is thrust open again. This time, it's Annie hobbling unsteadily on the special teak cane I had custom-made for her. She doesn't say anything until she's sitting in front of me, her stick leaning against the arm of the chair.

"I love my Nic-Nat. But there are some days I just want to shake the girl."

The bark of laughter that escapes me is stained with disappointment. "I take it you couldn't get through to her, either."

"I couldn't tell what she was thinking, if I'm being honest," Annie admits. "She was very quiet, and I doubt she was even listening. She just couldn't tell me to ‘fuck off' like the others."

"I told you that cane would come with benefits."

She grimaces at the thing. "Sympathy or not, I still hate it."

Smirking, I pour the two of us some whiskey from my private collection. "I can see where Natalia gets her stubbornness from."

Annie accepts the glass with a smile. "Next time you invite me to dinner, warn me there's going to be an ambush."

I tense. "You think I handled it wrong?"

"I think you've handled a lot of things wrong where Natalia is concerned."

She is, for all intents and purposes, Natalia's mother. I should have expected this conversation sooner or later. Personally, I had hoped for "later." It seems none of us are getting what we want tonight.

"I know I'm probably the last thing you wanted for her."

She cocks her head to the side and grips the hook of her cane. I wonder if she might try to beat me with it.

Then she takes a hearty sip of her whiskey and smacks her lips. "Hm, reminds me of an old boyfriend. Terrible in bed, but he knew his spirits." She's got a twinkle in her eye when she looks at me again. "Natalia needs a strong man, Andrey. Someone who can match her spirit and her stubbornness."

"Matching stubbornness hasn't done me a damn bit of good so far," I mutter.

She sets her glass down and leans forward, her elbows on her knees. "Stubbornness isn't just about being bullheaded and getting your way. It's refusing to stop trying to connect with someone. It's loving someone even when they make it hard. You need to have the stubbornness to listen to what she's really saying, not just the sounds her lips make when they move. Keep pushing your way and she'll push you right back. Or worse: retreat into herself and close all the doors."

I grimace. "I'm as worried about that as you are."

"Then trust me and take my advice. Natalia's biggest fear is losing the people she loves. She has a hard time opening up to anyone. It's easier for her to shut down than to face her feelings."

"How am I supposed to help her there?"

"By being stubborn enough to stay even when she screams at you to go."

I roll my neck, trying and failing to ease the tension in my shoulders. "I'm the last person she wants to be around right now."

"She's just terrified of being hurt again, Andrey. At the moment, she feels like nothing more than a broodmare for your legacy."

"That's not what she is to me."

Annie smiles. "Do you think I'd be here at all if I thought she was right?"

"So why can't Natalia see it, too?" I growl.

"Because, when it comes to you, she can't see clearly."

Rising out of my seat, I start pacing. "What if I build Natalia the perfect nursery?" I suggest. "She made a vision board a while back. I could use that to bring her vision to life. To show her how I feel, what she means to me, what our family?—"

Annie looks disappointed as she taps a finger against the head of her walking stick. "Don't you understand, Andrey? She doesn't need your money. She needs your time. Your attention."

"I—"

"Find a way to reach her how she needs, Andrey," Annie interrupts, climbing back to her feet and regripping her cane. "Or you'll end up losing her altogether."