Chapter 44

Chapter

Forty-Four

"Any fool can be happy. It takes a man with real heart to make beauty out of the stuff that makes us weep."

― Clive Barker

Caia

"You said you'd be back today," I sighed, putting my son's little red car toy back in his hands as we played on the living room playmat.

The phone was blaring in the background, so I pushed it away a bit to avoid it deafening me. "Alexsei? Can you hear me?" I called out.

"Yes, sorry baby, I've got awful reception," he said, sounding annoyed. "I'm really sorry, moya solnyshka , but I've gotta stay a few more days. Angelo needs me, and I owe him. I promise I'll make it up to you both."

I handed the toy car back to my son, but he threw it even farther and burst into tears. I put my phone on speaker mode and picked him up. His tiny body shook with sobs, his cries filling the room.

"It's okay, sweetheart," I murmured, trying to calm him. "Mommy's here." As I held Lukyan close, his tears soaked my shoulder, and I sighed, feeling defeated.

Great, now my new Prada shirt is heading for the wash.

"Caia, baby, I know you're pissed—" Alexsei's voice crackled through the phone.

I paced back and forth, my nerves fraying as I tried to calm my son.

"I'm not pissed, Alexsei, I'm overwhelmed!" I snapped, but Lukyan's sudden loud scream made me flinch. Tears welled up in my eyes, reflecting his distress. "Sorry for screaming, baby," I whispered, stroking his back. Lukyan clung to me, his tiny hands gripping my skin as his cries softened to whimpers. "Shh, it's okay, calm down."

"Caia—"

"I need help, Alexsei. I haven't slept in three days. Lukyan's teething, his fever's all over the place, and I—" My voice broke, tears streaming down my face. "I need you," I whispered, the weight of exhaustion and worry hitting me hard.

The phone crackled, heightening my frustration as Alexsei's voice cut in and out.

Fed up, I hung up and texted him I'd call later.

In moments like this, when my son was inconsolable and my patience was shot, I felt overwhelmed by failure and loneliness—a common struggle for many mothers. Not understanding what he needed, combined with sleepless nights and constant responsibility, made me feel like I was failing as a mother.

As Lukyan cried in my arms, his distress magnified my doubts and insecurities. I questioned my ability to comfort him and handle parenthood. I felt like I was failing him. And when those thoughts surfaced, the only thing that could soothe me was my husband.

His absence made everything harder.

When Lukyan finally fell asleep on my shoulder, I sighed with relief and quietly moved to my bedroom. If he needed a nap, I deserved a break too.

Carefully laying him down on my bed, I watched him sleep, his small form peaceful. It was a brief but cherished respite. Crawling into bed beside him, I closed my eyes, grateful for this moment of calm amidst the chaos of motherhood.

"Thanks, Dve," I said, genuinely grateful as he brought the large cardboard box down to my red room downstairs.

Moments later, he joined me in my small office while I was checking my camera supplies. I had ordered quite a few items for my downstairs camera room, but they were all too heavy for me to handle alone. I had casually mentioned this to Valeria over the phone this morning, never expecting her to send Dve to help.

"Caia, I think we should talk about Valeria," Dve said slowly, seeming wary of my reaction.

I avoided his eyes, still focused on my computer screen as he settled in front of me. "Valeria?" I furrowed my brows. "What's wrong?"

"No, I meant—" he nervously scratched the back of his neck. "Look, I know Valeria is your friend?—"

"She's like my sister," I cut in.

"Like your sister," he corrected himself. "And I just want you to know?—"

"Dve, promise me you'll never hurt Valeria," I interrupted, my tone serious as I turned to face him directly. "She's important to me. I need to know she's safe with you."

I couldn't obsess over Valeria's safety more than I was already obsessing over my own or my baby's. Valeria deserved to be treated well, especially after all she's been through.

Dve nodded earnestly, his expression sincere. "I promise, Caia. I would never do anything to hurt. I love her."

My mouth opened in surprise, but I couldn't help but smile. "Really?"

He nodded confidently. "Really."

I let out a heavy breath, feeling relief wash over me. "Good." I was genuinely happy for them. Raising an eyebrow, I added, "So… you're into cougars?"

His cheeks reddened slightly. At that moment, it was almost hard for me to reconcile that Dve was part of the Silas and that he killed people for a living. Despite his imposing 6'3" frame and 200 pounds, he looked almost cute right now, seated in that chair, blushing away.

"Yeah, uh," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I gotta go, Igor's waiting for me."

With that, he quickly got up, said his goodbyes, and practically sprinted to the door, leaving me trying to hold back a laugh. I quickly composed myself, being careful not to wake up my son.

Lukyan was snoozing in his stroller, his lunch all over him after spitting up right after I breastfed him while juggling work and trying to catch up on overdue weekend emails. I'd reached out to several photographers—some old university buddies, others whose work I'd admired for ages, and a few known in Moscow. My plan is to open a gallery, showcasing not just my work but also pieces from other talented artists. I'm hoping this will draw people in and make the gallery more than just a showcase of my own art.

To be honest, I still had a lot of doubts about my work. Whenever I thought about sharing it, insecurities plagued me. What if people hated it? What if they laughed at me and my work? What if it was criticized as awful?

I leaned back in my chair, throwing my head back with my eyes closed, letting out a deep sigh to push away the flood of negative thoughts.

I massaged my temples, exhaling slowly and focusing on the steady beat of my heart. As I counted from one to ten, I felt the tension and anxiety slowly receding, like a turtle inching back into its shell.

But then Lukyan woke up with those sweet sounds—soft sighs and gentle groans—followed by his sleepy yet joyful blue eyes meeting mine. All my worries melted away instantly. I couldn't resist lifting him out of his stroller and cuddling him close.

But then, my phone suddenly rang.

With Lukyan on my hip, playing with my hair and scratching my neck, I answered. I'd need to trim his nails again tonight; they grow so fast and are sharp as knives. "Hello?"

"Can you please come here?" Valeria's voice was distraught.

My brows furrowed. "Are you still at work?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "Please hurry, Caia."

Before she even hung up, my heart started racing. I quickly settled Lukyan back into his stroller. He began to whine, but I swiftly threw on my black trench coat and headed out, logging off my computer and locking the doors behind me.

A sudden fear clenched at my throat as I drove through the city. Something felt very, very wrong. I could feel it in my bones.

"I did everything I could, Mrs. Romaniev. I'm so sorry."

I sank into the familiar chair, reaching for her hand. It was icy and pale, so different from the warmth I remembered. Her eyes were closed peacefully, her face serene in her final rest. My babushka was gone, and with her, a piece of me seemed to vanish.

"Thank you, doctor," I said through tears. "Can I have a moment alone?"

He nodded and left, closing the door softly.

Alone, I let my grief pour out, kissing her cold knuckles like she used to kiss mine.

The pain was overwhelming, like a relentless wave.

Life can be so cruel, constantly testing us with pain. In these moments, I almost wished I could be numb, to avoid feeling this heartache. I'd felt this before—losing my mama, enduring abuse, harsh words, and now losing my babushka.

The deeper you love, the more you hurt. Life changes in an instant, and the grief can be suffocating. Is the fleeting joy worth the pain?

I held her hands one last time, kissed her forehead, and whispered a prayer she used to say, " Gospodi, prosti nam nashi grekhi i sdelay nas takimi zhe dobrymi i miloserdnymi lyud'mi, kak ty. Lord, forgive us our sins and make us as kind and merciful people as you are. "

I hoped she found the peace I wished for her. "Babushka, I love you to the moon and back," I said, tears falling on her cheeks. "I'll miss you more than the trees miss the sun in winter."

I lingered a moment longer before leaving. As I walked away, a heavy feeling settled over me, not knowing yet that her passing had opened a floodgate of pain that would reshape my life in unexpected ways.