Epilogue

2 years later

His bags and passport are ready, waiting at the foot of the bed as I gently shake Vlad's chest to wake him. Wherever he had to go last night took it out of him mentally and he'll be upset if he misses a single second. He bolts up alert but softens seeing me leaning over him, and I point to his bags dumbly.

"You're going to be late."

He pulls me to stand between his thighs as he swings his legs over the side of the bed and presses a kiss to my chest. I don't make him move and stroke my fingers through his hair. He's like this every year with the memories coming back and I just hold him. Looking up at me, he hesitates, swallowing around a lump in his throat before gently asking, "Do you want to come with me?"

I've never pressured him into visiting Vanya, that's his time with his daughter and when Verena is old enough, we'll tell her she has an older sister. But I feel honored and kiss his head, agreeing easily.

It's the dead of night and we'll be in Russia for less than twenty-four hours, but I don't want to be uncomfortable on the plane. So, I quickly change and pack a bag. I step out of the closet and Vlad has our daughter sleeping on his shoulder. He's already got her ready and she hasn't woken up, snoring away right in his ear.He leaves her coat loosely over her back like a blanket. Every time he visits Vanya, I watch him become even more careful with Verena.

I can't imagine him at twelve years old with a newborn, or thirteen as he physically buried his daughter alone. It's heartbreaking and unfair. Each day that I spend around him I'm in awe of the fact he's managed to survive this long. It's no different now as he pulls me into his side and kisses my crown to comfort me. He doesn't let go of either of us as we leave. It doesn't change in the car as he tells Dima to stay home. I have no idea if his friend knows where he's going, but he gives me a grateful smile and nods respectfully before going back into the house.

Vlad threads his fingers through mine and squeezes in a new pattern of three, six, three. I think I've solved the code of the changing number since it only increased when he found out I was pregnant. The others are a mystery and the first pattern of three has dropped off entirely in the last two years. He doesn't let go the entire drive and tension rolls off him in waves as we reach the private airfield. There's a skeleton crew and no one looks at any of us as we board with Verena on my shoulder.

He continues following behind me as I go to the bedroom at the back and lay her in the bed. He's like a deadly assistant, arranging the pillows around her body in the center of the bed and even going so far as to pad the floor. She doesn't get scared or roll over when she's asleep. She's used to waking up in a different place than where she slept since all of the Vartanovs like to play pass the baby and we have to steal her back. I guide us out before he can lay on the floor beside her. I've seen him do it in the middle of the night when he can't sleep, and the voice in his head becomes too loud. Or if she makes a single noise, then he's on alert and paces.

We reach our seats a few feet from the open bedroom door, and he sits me on his thigh. This part is the worst for him, the travel. Knowing he's so far away from her. His neurotic tendencies only calmed slightly when Verena had her first birthday, but he's still always on edge.

Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I hug him and try to offer any comfort I can. Every day I see our daughter doing something, reaching a new milestone, or just playing, the thought comes up of how he missed that with Vanya. Vlad has been grieving for nearly the entirety of my life, the majority of his own and I can't imagine it ever going away. The natural order of life isn't to bury your child, especially physically doing it yourself at the break of dawn when you're barely a teenager.

He doesn't even blink as we take off and I close my eyes when he gently cups the back of my head, pulling me closer with his lips resting on my temple. Every breath he takes is weighted and I make slow circles on his chest with my palm, as though that can go any way to ease the ache. He tightens his arm around me and places his hand over the bump. There's a slight tremor but he's trying. It's bigger than the first time I was pregnant too and the baby is already huge in comparison to Verena. But watching Vlad light up at each scan and go so far as to buy a portable machine so he can see the baby whenever his neurosis takes over chases some of my anxiety away.

This is all his fears in one day and he tenses. Soft murmuring comes through the open door, and I swear the man has a sixth sense when it comes to his kids. He kisses my hand before letting me go and I slip off his thigh to pick her up. She's two years old and Vlad's double apart from her eyes. She can't see me as she rubs her eyes with her fists, and Daddy's girl dismisses me, her voice floating out in the dark.

"Papa?"

I look down at myself and hold my arms out to her. "Just your mama, little wriggler."

She crawls forward, accepting her second favorite and smiles up at me as I pick her up. She doesn't have the baby smell anymore, and she's less grumpy when she's actually focused on someone. But she's cute as anything and wraps her arms around my neck, cuddling up to me and kissing my cheek.

"Love mama."

It doesn't matter what time she wakes up or where she is, Vlad will always be the first person she asks for, but the little ‘love mama' always makes up for being second on the list. I'm sure he's brainwashed her to do it just to piss everyone off.

He perks up when we go back to him and sits her on his thigh so she can look out of the window. Stroking her hair, he kisses her cheek, and she wraps her arms around his neck like she knows he needs it as he pulls me down on his other thigh.

* * *

FasteningVerena's coat around her, I turn the collars up to protect her from the cold. Vlad has pulled her hat so far down it's in her eyes and the only part of her I can see is her face. I balance her on my hip as he guides us into the graveyard with his hand on my back. Vero is too excited about all the snow to notice the somber mood and I hook my little finger around his as we walk deeper into the maze of headstones. The large, sweeping willow tree covers his daughters grave and his steps drag the closer we get to it.

There's no name on the headstone, just a blank slab of stone and it's too shiny. His smile is warm and sad as he dips down to kiss the corner. He keeps one arm around us and the other around Vanya's headstone as we sit down. Tears burn the back of my eyes at the way he shuts down. He's a forty-year-old man, filled with violence and regularly comes home covered in blood. Right now, he's younger and lost.

Even if it would be weird as fuck, his daughter should be here and my age. We shouldn't be visiting her on the other side of the world and not actually able to see her. I lose the battle with my emotions, and my tears slip down, warming my cheeks as Vlad softly says, "Solnyshkuh, this is Verena. Your sister."

Hearing her name, she looks at her papa and climbs forward, sitting on his lap.She stares at him and makes a kissy face when she notices her breath fogging in the cold air.

Vlad doesn't say anything else. His eyes are blank and he's slowly blinking into space as he protectively holds us both. I band my arm over Verena so he can use the other. He kisses my forehead and holds the headstone again. Seeing the clergyman making his way from the church, I wipe my cheeks and stand, giving Vlad time alone with his daughters when he refuses to let Verena go.

Grigory and I have never spoken but he's the person who helped the younger, heartbroken version of my husband, so he will always have my respect. He has a flask in his hand with two cups. He stops at the tree and a soft smile lifts his lips.

He watches Verena press her mitten covered hand to Vlad's cheek. She moves it side to side in a wave, massaging her father's cheek, and whispering, "Papa cold?"

Vlad kisses her hand and pulls her closer. "Not cold, just thinking."

I stop beside Grigory and watch my daughter huff. A small cloud forms in front of her lips as she drags herself up to stand on Vlad's thigh. She holds his face and brushes her nose against his before scrunching it up.

"Papa no think, make sad."

Vlad's lips move, the air fogging in front of him, but it's too low for me to hear. Grigory pulls my attention away as he pours a cup of steaming tea and hands it to me. "You saved him from a very dark path."

I take the cup without correcting him. He doesn't know that Vlad hasn't been saved from anything when he will always feel the absence of his daughter. He might not have any thoughts of dying anymore, but it doesn't replace his loss. No life can, but he smiles without malice and sits Verena on his thigh as he dips his head to continue whispering to her.

***

Vlad

All my joy is muted, the undercurrent of heartache is still there. Holding my two-year-old daughter and introducing her to her older sister, who's somehow younger than her, feels wrong. Leaning forward, I press my lips to the cold stone in apology. It's not the same as the visits during previous years. Ever since finding out Len has done this shit, it's an apology for the relation. For not staying home, when logically, I had no choice because the alternative meant there wouldn't be a doctor's visit.For not running away the first moment I held her. I could have done it, Dima managed to live on the street with Katya as a child.

Veroushka wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek, whispering, "Papa think ‘gain?"

Her little hands move in a wave motion against my shoulder, and I hug her closer, kissing her head, feeling only warmth.

"Yeah, malen'kaya zvezda, just thinking."

She pats my back like she understands I'm lying and doesn't let go.

One woman and two girls own me. They have the monopoly over my heart and my head. Stroking Verena's back and Vanya's cold headstone is a twisted parallel of fatherhood. One I had when I was too young to understand the responsibility but welcomed it. The other when I understood too much and tried to run from it.I have regrets about both, and they will never leave. All of my silent apologies are for their end and their start.

The snow starts falling, bringing with it dread at Verena being in the cold. She brings her mitten-covered hand up, catching the flakes and giggles as one clings to the tip of her nose. So much innocence for nature. She loves the cold, I fucking hate it. Whenever she sees snow, she's mesmerized and itches to run into it.

She does the same now and softly hums to herself as she dances in slow semi-circles on my thigh. Her tongue pokes out and she catches the flakes on her tongue, making chomping noises.

Standing before my joints go stiff, I kiss Vanya's headstone and Verena tugs on my neck.

"Mwah."

It's her way of saying when she wants a kiss, so I press one to her cheek that's getting colder. She shakes her head and points to the headstone, fucking killing me with her sweetness.

"No papa, mwah."

Holding her so she's close enough, she copies me and kisses the exact same spot, then whispers, "Bye bye, Vanya."

She moves her mitten-covered hand, waving bye.She's nothing like me, thank fuck, apart from when she bursts into fits of rage, and I couldn't be prouder. Although Inessa and the rest of the family say she's my double, she's all her mama.

Lifting her higher, I kiss her cheek and ignore the way my heart dies and grows at the same time.

"How do you know her name, malenkaya zvezda1?"

She throws herself forward, wrapping her arms around my neck and squeezing, just repeating her sister's name as though it's obvious.

"Vanya."

Inessa stands waiting with tears lining her lashes and comes to my side. Grigory respectfully nods his head, and both cups have been used. She was warm. My strength. Ever thinking she was a weakness was bullshit, some fucked up part of my brain that had been polluted with Len's thinking. My queen is nothing but my strength. She's powerful and does things no one else can. Like making sure the jet is booked every year, telling everyone to fuck off so I don't have to focus on anything other than Vanya and raising our daughter to have that steel spine in everything she does.

She fits herself at my side with her features hard and cold. I can't force them to spend all day in the cold. Verena waves over my shoulder and hums, "Bye bye, Vanya. Play ‘gain."

Inessa takes a deep breath to stop any emotion showing as we walk out through the churchyard. Her lips twitch when she sees the charred remains of the neighbor's house, but there's no verbal question. She looks up at me and raises a brow. I'm not going to lie to her. I'm also never going to give her the full extent of my sins without her explicitly requesting the details.

* * *

3 months later

Coming hometo a house full of noise always feels new. Even though it's been years, that first step inside makes me pause. So is seeing my brother, who had a death match last night, sat with pink shit all over his face beside Inessa, Viktor, and Dani. Their spa days are weird as fuck. We have enough money for them to actually go and get treatments, but they turn the lounge into a resort, watching reality TV and eating junk food.

They've even corrupted my daughter, and she has face cream lathered on her little cheeks with her ankles crossed, fitting in with them. The only person who's missing is Valentin and if he walks out in the same get up, I'm turning around.

The ugly orange pants are wrapped around Inessa's legs, every pair I throw out is replaced and I'm close to buying the fucking company to stop them from making them anymore. But she was the happiest I've ever seen her when she found out they make the horrendous things in a maternity collection. I know I'm going to be stuck with them for life rubbing against my legs when she gets restless in her sleep and freaking me out in the morning when I manage to write them out of my memory.

Kissing the top of Inessa's head, I turn to Verena and soften my voice. "Ready to learn how to swim, malenkaya zvezda?"

She's afraid of the pool, always thinking there's fish in it when the water is clear and free of anything. Blowing out a long breath, her face hardens, and she claps her hands together, psyching herself up as Viktor joins in verbally.

"Veroushka can do it, I'll show you how to do backflips."

She looks at her cousin with a grateful smile, nods in agreement and slides off the sofa, coming to my side.

He runs off to wash the shit off his face and get ready. Picking Verena up, I take her with me, knowing her mother will waddle behind us. Inessa is only four months pregnant, but she acts like it's been four years, being dramatic and enjoying making me pay for everything I missed the first time.I wait for her as the elevator doors open and she adds extra drama when I turn. Her hand goes to her back, and she shuffles her feet despite the smug glee on her face. As long as she tortures me with dramatics, we're fine. If she goes silent on me, it will be a worse punishment.

Verena looks at her and asks, "Why walk like that?"

My wife has blue shit all over her face and she looks like an alien. But she smiles and stops forcing her waddle as she steps into the elevator. "Because your little brother or sister is very big."

Our daughter looks down at her small bump and with her lips twisting to one side as the elevator moves. She wriggles until she's half hanging down and presses the tip of her finger to Inessa's bump as she says, "Be nice to mama." I lift her up, so she doesn't fall but she adds a threat. "Or tell papa off you."

Inessa hides her laugh as she looks up at me and shakes her head. We both know I'm never going to reprimand them for anything. They can wreak as much havoc as they want. But Verena crosses her arms over her chest and declares, "Fix now."

She's exactly like her mother, ordering everyone around and refusing to accept anyone's shit. Even though her sibling isn't born.

The elevator comes to a stop, and I don't follow my wife. I allow her to walk ahead as I point at her tabby cat legs and whisper in Verena's ear, "You're never going to wear them, okay?"

She shakes her head and loudly snitches, "Like mama's pants. They soft."

The brat turns her head to glare at me. She never utters a bad word in front of our daughter and the little brat in the making giggles, knocking her cream-laden face into my suit and rubbing it into the material.

"Mama look funny."

She's not wrong, considering she currently has blue shit on her face and those tabby cat pants with one of my t-shirts.

I turn into Verena's room and take her into the bathroom to wipe her face. She stands on the vanity, doing breathing exercises and slapping her arms out, pretending to swim. I soften my voice as I stroke her dark hair out of her face.

"Are you scared?"

She beams up at me and shakes her head so fast that it becomes a circle. "No, Papa be there."

Lifting her up, I kiss her cheek and take her back to her room to get her ready. Once she's dressed, she plays with the frill on her bathing suit and dances around her room to a tune that only exists in her head. Leaving her to the choreography she's making up, I go to fuck with Inessa.

She's changing into her bikini as I step into our closet. Fuck me, she's beautiful. The cast of her pregnant belly and tits sits proudly on the wall and soon there'll be another one to match it. I stroke around her stomach from behind, cup the bump, and kiss her neck.

This house contains everything I need to survive. Each person saved me. But the woman in my arms, she's my soul.She turns in my arms and dramatically throws her arms around my neck as she pulls back so her tits don't brush my chest. I pick her up to make it easier on her. I lift her higher, so her head is above mine and ask, "How sore are you, malysh?"

She'll have random bursts where she's swollen and uncomfortable, then need to be fucked because her hormones drive her crazy. But she's in a good mood and strokes her fingers through my hair with a dreamy smile.

"Not sore, I just wanted you to hold me."

Holding the back of her thighs, I lift her higher as she squeals and pulls at my hair as though I would ever drop her. I'd carry this woman on my head and allow her to bark orders at me if she so much as expressed an interest in it. Her squealing turns into a giggle as I press my lips over her bump. The fear that I'm tainting their life is still there, but she chases it away and hugs my head.

I won't breathe for the next year. It was the same with Verena and I didn't even notice the band around my lungs until she reached her first birthday. But my wife softens as she kisses my crown. No words are required when she knows everything — the good, bad, and ugly. It all belongs to this mouthy woman.

Little footsteps run through our bedroom and Verena hugs the back of my legs. Inessa presses on my shoulders for me to return her to her feet. Before I turn to pick up the little queen, she pushes through my legs and stretches up to touch Inessa's bump. Her hand is tiny, but the force behind her is unmistakable as she grabs my thumb and places my hand beside hers.

"Baby," she whispers. There's a gremlin-like quality to her voice, but she's excited to be a big sister. I pick her up and throw her in the air while my bratty wife shakes her head in disapproval.

The giggle is worth it, and I press a kiss to Verena's chin. She hugs my head as Inessa tickles her side and squeals through her laughter, "Papa, help."

I lift her higher to sit on my shoulders and she holds my hair in her small fists. Inessa's face drops and she slowly backs away with her hands raised and a warning. "Vlad, don't you dare."

I know every inch of her body and our daughter pulls my hair like I'm an animal she's training. She crosses her ankles and kicks her heels against my chest while she waits for me to tickle her mother.

The brat knows I'm going to, and she ends up backing herself into a corner. Gently grabbing her arm, I pull Inessa into me, and she pleads with our daughter. "You don't really want mama to be tickled do you?"

I look up and Verena shakes her head. "No, papa love mama. No hurting."

Despite her age, she knows the most important thing and she puckers her lips before kissing the bridge of my nose.