I watch my siblings walk around with total blinkers, confusing Gela to be a friend, and I feel that if I don’t set the story straight now, the hell I’ll get later will be even worse.
“Trifon’s never brought a friend over before.” Leonid gives me a suspicious look, as though to ask whether I’m whipped.
“Actually.” I decide to rip off the band-aid. “We’re not friends.”
Everyone goes silent.
“We’re married. Gela is my wife.” I slide an arm around her waist, just for show, but my entire body goes electric. She slides closer, making it harder to concentrate. Must be the nerves, I tell myself.
The silence that follows is deafening.
“Your... wife?” Darya repeats slowly.
“When did this happen?” Trifon asks, stiffly.
“Since a week ago,” I answer, and Gela pales at the sight of my shocked siblings.
A heavy, roaring silence falls over the room. We stare at each other, awkwardly at best, until at last, Iosif gives us a thin smile to break the tension. “Congratulations, I guess? Though I'm a little hurt I wasn't invited to the wedding.”
“There was no wedding,” I clarify, which doesn't help.
“Just a signing of papers in a dingy back office,” Gela adds, finding her voice. “Very romantic.”
I shoot her a look, and she bites her lower lip nervously.
“You're American?” Trifon observes.
“Born and raised,” she confirms.
“And what do you do, Gela?” he asks. I know he’s trying to assess just what she knows, whether she’s innocent or not.
“I run a digital marketing agency.”
Trifon's eyes narrow as he gives me an accusatory look, and I know he’s mad I brought a civilian into our world without telling her who we are.
“Why don't we all sit down?” Darya suggests. “Yulia's prepared dinner. It should be ready soon.”
“Yes, yes, please,” Yulia insists, and everyone shuffles to the dining room.
We all move to sit, and I guide Gela to sit next to me. The room still feels charged, angry, accusatory.
“So.” Nadya leans forward and rests her chin on her hands, “how did you two meet?”
Gela answers with the simple truth. “He bought me an iced tea when the card machine was down at my favorite café.”
Nadya's face lights up. “That's so sweet! I didn't know you had it in you, Val.”
“There's a lot you don't know about me, Nadya,” I mutter.
“Clearly,” Leonid says dryly. “So, what, you buy her a tea and then you're married? There's more to this story.”
“There is,” I admit, “but it's not important right now.”
“I think it's very important,” Leonid argues, but Trifon raises a hand to silence him.
“If Valentin says it's not important right now, then it's not important right now,” Trifon declares, his tone leaving no room for argument. “What matters is that Gela is family now.”
Those words—"Gela is family now”—hit me harder than I expected. There's an unspoken rule among us: family protects family, no matter what. By acknowledging Gela as family, Trifon is extending to her the same protection and loyalty that we give to each other.
