27. Inessa

I'm staring up at the ceiling to stop from breaking down as I stroke Vlad's hair. His head is still in my lap, recounting burying his daughter. A daughter he had at the age of fucking twelve because adults took advantage of him. He hasn't mentioned who the mother was, and I'm afraid to ask.I can't even draw in air as I feel a part of my soul die. He sounds younger, hauntingly innocent, and I bite my top lip to stop the sob from leaving me.

If I feel like this, how does he manage to stand every day? How does he find the energy to breathe?

He doesn't blink as he stares at a spot on the wall. His eyes are blank, the same blankness that I've witnessed at Steorra when perverse adults kill a child's soul, and he continues going further back in history with no emotion.

"Len found out Anika only ever allowed men in the house. He tried to tattoo a deck of cards on my back."

He's already told me before, and I tilt my head back to get my tears to roll back. I thought that was the worst thing his father did, now I know who Vanya is, it makes me selfishly thankful that Verena is alive. He had already murdered his other granddaughter.

"But then he laughed when I said I'm not gay and told me there's proof I am, so I need to prove I'm not. Valyusha was a baby and he kept staring at me like he knew what was happening."

Hugging his head as though I can protect him, he doesn't acknowledge anything around him.He's lost to his horrific memories, and I don't know how he's still alive. His smile touches my skin, but I know what it means, he hurt someone. My stomach drops at the information as he marks a line from his brow to his cheek with the back of his knuckle.

"She always used to stroke my cheek, after. So, I cut that same mark in hers."

I helped that fucking sick cunt, Galya. I felt sorry for her, and I was horrified at Vlad's violence when he was restraining himself.

Holding him tighter in apology, he blinks and lets out a long breath before coming back to the present.

"I didn't leave you. Someone destroyed her grave, there were holes everywhere and I know she's not there, but I just had to go."

I nod because I can't imagine the pain of not only losing your child but having their resting place desecrated on top of everything else.He takes a deep breath and holds it, making his voice lower, further away at the back of his throat.

"I can't choose."

It cracks as a tear slips from the corner of his eyes, racing over the bridge of his nose and landing on my knee.

That single tear burns through my skin and into my bone, creating a well for his pain as more leave him. They drip slowly, like a leaky faucet only allowing one at a time out in random intervals as they breach his control.

"I can't choose, and I have to. I have two daughters." His lips slowly lift but it doesn't turn into a smile as they immediately drag down at his next words. "I have to choose between them. I promised Vanya I'd go back to her, but I can't choose, meelaya."

My voice shakes as my chest stutters, attempting to draw in a breath.

"You don't have to. They're both yours."

He shakes his head like I'm misunderstanding him as I stroke my fingers through his hair for my own comfort. The low, haunted voice leaves around the saddest, pain-filled smile in existence.

"I do. Because I miss them both. I killed her, over twenty-five years of guilt, and it's taken her away from me again." He closes his eyes, attempting to recall the image, he says, "I can't remember her face, or the exact quality of her laugh, but I know she was beautiful, and I know that sound would echo around my room. It was the loudest when I'd blow raspberries on her cheek. Not the right side, she hated it. I don't remember my daughter's eye color, the exact color, or how they'd change with her smiles and giggles."

He slowly blinks, and everything inside of me hardens when he reveals the full extent of his thoughts.

"Death will give me Vanya again, but life…" he blows out a breath, "life keeps me here with you and Verena. But she's alone and Verena will have you. Everyone thinks I'm a monster for killing or torture, but what kind of fucking lowlife am I that I'm leaving both of my kids alone."

My eyelids are already swelling as panic overtakes me, and I tighten my arms around him, refusing to let go. My voice hardens, trying to convince him not to do anything that will take him away.

"You are human. Forgive yourself and know that you can grieve your daughter however you want, but you can't kill yourself to bring her back."

It ends in a choked sob, and he turns as my tears splash against his cheek. I fold in on myself as he lifts his head from lap and picks me up to cradle me against his chest. His hand goes to the back of my head, pushing my face into the crook of his neck as I wind my arms around his ribs and lock my fingers together at his back. I won't let go, then he'll be forced to stay alive.

His low curse is muffled as he cups my ear and massages my scalp.

"Fuck, don't cry, meely moy."

I shake my head and push back enough to look at him. Tears cling to every part of my cheeks, dripping off my jawline, and wobbling on my lips as I look up from his shoulder.

"I'm sorry you lost your daughter, I wish I could go back in time to stop it, but you can't leave us."

My entire being shatters as a sob erupts from deep in my chest and shakes my body.

His face falls as though he wasn't aware of everything he's said, and he holds me tighter, refusing to deny death. His lips go to my temple, and he whispers to himself, "No one has ever said that before."

It just makes me cry harder. He's so brutal and violent. Now I finally understand why. My shoulders ache, my wrists pulling from how hard I'm wrapped around him, but he breathes slightly easier as I hide in his neck.

Vlad runs his fingers through my hair, the tips of his fingers making circles on my scalp between straightening the strands. He doesn't say anything, he allows me to sob as he gently picks up different sections and hums to himself while gently swaying side to side. His brutality is fucking angelic in comparison to what they did to him. He's a saint for not burning the world to ash and I know deep in my fucking bones he's the best man to exist.

My sobs slow but my tears don't stop. I'm at risk of drowning us both. They fall for the man he could have been, the father who lost his child when he was still one himself, the father who is mourning and fearful, so he's locked himself away from his other child, and the little boy who was forced to cover himself in blood, so he never had to see his own.

It's that little boy I try to speak to, the one who was so in love with his daughter that not having her turned him into a monster.

"You were a child, none of it was your fault."

A lump grows in his throat, forcing his Adam's apple to protrude further as he swallows around it. I can see the unease under his skin, his jaw tensing, shoulders flexing as he brings them up to get it to dissipate. Softening my voice further, I hold his face with both hands and slowly turn him to face me as I sit up.

"You did everything you could, Vlad, more than what should have been put on you."

He's going to disagree with me. It's there in his eyes, lurking with the guilt and pain, as his arms fall limp. I stop it leaving as my eyes close with the comparison.

"You were a few years older than Viktor."

It's barely audible and I open them again to see his brows come together. It's sinking in that he was a child. I've seen the way he protects Viktor's childhood and I use it now to force Vlad to allow some of his guilt to leave.

"Would you expect Viktor to process something of this magnitude? I'm an adult, and I can tell you right now, I wouldn't be able to. I can't begin to imagine what you feel. I'm lucky. I know Verena is safe, even when I woke up and she wasn't there, I knew because you left your cufflink on the floor right in front of my bed and I knew you had her, so she was safe. Before I even checked her crib, I knew, because that is what you are. Safety and protection for the people you care about. You wouldn't hurt any of them, and I know you love your daughters."

Tears fill his eyes. They line up on his lashes as he smiles. It's so soft and heartbreaking as he remains unblinking, guarding his emotions because they've been twisted into a weapon against him. I don't move as I let him see that it's safe and give him a promise I'll never take back for as long as I live.

"You can always talk about her to me, whenever you want."

The smile gets wider, and he sniffs as his lashes are unable to bear the weight of his grief. They slip over the edge onto my fingers, settling through the cracks between them.

More are knocked loose as he nods once and slowly moves forward to press his lips to my forehead. They stamp through my skin with care and gratitude, unmoving as he cups the back of my head, pulling me closer. I can't hate him for loving his daughter. I can't hate him for leaving me to go to her when, if I knew, I would have sent him with every weapon possible to right the wrong of her being taken from him. I can't hate him at all, and I wrap my arms around his neck to stop myself from telling him that.

He mistakes the reason as my wet cheek touches his that's also soaked. Smoothing his hand over the back of my head, he gently pulls me away from his lips and cups my cheeks. Swiping my tears away with his thumbs, he kisses my forehead with nothing but emotion.

"Don't cry, meely moy."

I let out a watery laugh and hold his wrists. "Because of the snot?"

His smile is slow as he lets out a breath of relief. "Exactly, I like this shirt."His lips move across my face as he begs, "Come back to me."

I don't even have to think about my response. It's automatic, without any weakness in my voice.

"I'm here."

He shakes his head as he loses some of his usual strength and fills my vision. The vulnerability seeps through his pores as he stares between each of my eyes and pleads, "No, stay. Come back. Because if you're here, I'll be able to check the windows and you always kick the sheets off when you're asleep and I have to pull them up or you'll get cold. So, stay. I'll keep laying on the floor and you won't ever see me but just fucking stay. Because without you, both of you, here, I can't breathe. It's worse than the cake."

He blows out a breath and his chest rapidly rises and falls as his skin turns clammy.

I can't ask what cake because he wraps his arms around me so tightly I'm sure he's reducing my lung capacity. I'm crushed to his chest, his heart beating wildly into me, as he begins tapping against my ribs and whispering to himself, "Not blue."

The whispering forms one long line of two repeated words and I ignore the fact that I'm definitely going to have Vlad's arms denting my back for the rest of my life as I hug him back. My lips touch his wet skin, tasting a mix of our tears and he slowly relaxes. It's not enough to allow air into my lungs fully but he allows some of the tension to leave his body.

I keep doing it as he allows the bruising grip to lessen in increments. Stroking up my back, he goes back to my scalp and restarts folding the strands. I don't stop him as I close my eyes and sink against his chest. His mind must be an exhausting place. All the pain and secrets that he carries are there continuously. I need to be cut off from civilization for the next thirty years after half a night of some of his pain. The soft hum of bayu bayushki starts vibrating through his chest. The lullaby that was his daughter's favorite and he now does the same for Verena. I wonder if they were alike, or if it hurts him to hold her, to be close to her.

Does it hurt him to be close to me? She would be my age. Mid-twenties with a father who is in his thirties is wrong, so fucking wrong and unfathomable. My hair is split down the middle, and I look down as something touches my neck. There's a loose four-part braid gently laid on my shoulder and Vlad threads his fingers through the top of the strands to undo it. He doesn't look at me until I ask, "Where did you learn to do that?"

I must be seeing things because the tops of his cheeks turn ruddy. He quickly undoes the loose braid as he clears his throat.

"I found out she was going to be born and went to the hospital. Len stopped me going inside because he was pissed. There was a little girl, around three or four, sat in the waiting room opposite me. She kept crying for her mama because she wanted braids in her hair, so she looked pretty when she met her new brother." I nod and he uses the back of his knuckles to dry my cheeks. "There was another girl with her, a few years older, and she sat her on the floor between her knees and started braiding her hair so she wouldn't cry anymore. We were a house of boys, I didn't know how to do that shit, and Anika wasn't allowed to look at Vanya. So, I practiced on the mop in case she wanted them when she was older."

His jaw trembles as he blows out a breath. Before she was even born he was planning a life for her, learning everything she might want to be, everything for his daughter. The world is fucking cruel for giving Vlad the evil that was his parents.

Just when I think that I'm going to stop crying, my tears restart and it's my turn to choke him as I throw myself around him with enough force that he rocks back.

"You're not a monster, or even remotely bad."

My words come out rushed and muffled into his neck as I curl my hands into fists against his back, bringing his shirt with me.

He stands with me in his arms and he doesn't say anything further. Most people keep back a percentage of what happened when they recount things in their lives. They'll change the narrative and not voice the most traumatic parts to prevent reliving it and if Vlad is one of them people, that percentage will be higher and so much worse than the nightmare he's already had to endure.

Wrapping my limbs around him as he carries me back to the room, he doesn't set me on the bed straight away. He goes straight to the crib and stares down, watching Verena's chest move. I can't imagine the pain he's in, or how hard it was for him to shut her out when, deep down, he's a protector. He's someone who loves in a way that's all-consuming. Anyone Vlad loves will never lose it. He's not built for anything fickle, like his anger and violence. It is all or nothing.

He forces his body to move and tries to lay me on the bed. I don't let go. There's something in my gut telling me he can't be alone right now. Exhaustion weighs his voice down and the usual roughness is missing.

"Go to sleep, meelaya, you have the pediatrician appointment at 11:30."

Moving my head back without loosening my limbs, I blink while my mind absorbs what he said.He's never gone anywhere with me; he doesn't ask about appointments or mention anything. This is the most we've spoken to each other since I found out I was pregnant so he should not know appointment times.

I extend an olive branch, hoping he doesn't slap me across the face with it, and my voice comes out small.

"Will you come with me?"

I hate sitting there and watching the doctors prod and poke my baby girl.The rational part of my brain knows that they're not hurting her, but I want to shoot them all in the head at every little grumble that leaves her lips. Even if she's always grumpy and scowling, it's different when other people give her a reason for it. Especially when they recite her age in minuses, it's wrong and I fucking hate it because it points out how backwards everything is.

He hesitates as he strokes my hair out of my face and turns so he's laid on his back with his knees bent over the side of the bed. Pulling my legs free before his big ass can crush them, he doesn't look at me when he asks, "Do you want me to be there?"

I don't know if it will hurt or help him given everything he's been through.I stare at the pure-hearted devil and focus on the only thing that matters.

"Do you love Verena?"

The smile on his face is answer enough and he strokes my thighs, providing one verbally.

"Before she was even born."

Laying my head on his chest, I continue collecting vows.

"Will you always be there for her?"

He massages my scalp, his palm over my ear pushing me further into his chest, but it doesn't mute his conviction.

"For as long as I live."

His life isn't a justification for disappearing, however, understanding why he reacts the way he does chases away my anger. My threat is quiet as I look up, but he smiles at the promise in my eyes.

"Don't ignore her anymore or hide away."

He cups my face and strokes across my cheek with his thumb before he kisses my forehead. Vlad doesn't move his lips when he voices his confession.

"I gave her my nights because you had her days, I have never ignored her."

Hugging his sides tighter, I try to find out how far that care extends.

"Will you ignore me, or will we be cordial, so she never sees us arguing on birthdays?"

I'm abruptly lifted back by my nape and his eyes harden, all the emotions and vulnerability are knocked away as he speaks in a measured tone to hide his violence.

"What about the other days?"

I shrug and stare beside his head. "I won't stop you seeing her whenever you want to, and we can split the nights for the ones when you don't have any of the fights to run."

Acid burns the back of my throat at the thought of not being able to roll over and see her sleeping in the same room as me. She's a baby and more independent than I am because I'll end up being a blubbering mess in a few months when she can sleep in her own room.

He pulls me closer so our noses brush and bites out against my lips in a hissed whisper, "You are my wife. The only way we split nights is when you stay asleep while I do her feeds."

His fingers thread through my hair, gripping the strands at the root as he pulls me back and becomes himself again.

"If you're confused about where you will be sleeping, it's the same thing I told you before you became my wife." My head is roughly turned to the side to stare at the bed, and he repeats the words he once said to me with an amendment. "See this rectangle thing? It's called a bed, you lay on it and close your eyes. It is ours."

I attempt to add levity to the emotionally charged night as he pulls my head to rest on his chest.

"So, you'll stop laying on the floor? You're old and you'll end up pulling your back."

His laugh brushes the top of my head and I look up, wanting more of it.

"I'd have to roll you down the stairs. If you go down, lapachka, there's no way I'm lifting your huge ass off the ground."

Vlad pulls me up to his body, lightly slaps his hands off my ass, and presses a soft kiss to my lips with his favorite two words murmured against my lips, "Shut up."