I don’t know what answers I’ve got.
“I’m going to let the two of you catch up,” my wife announces, standing and dropping a kiss on top of Nadya’s head. “I know what a rare treat it is for Iosif to be home like this. You two use it. I’m going to go hop in the shower. There are crumbs in my bra.”
“But you—” she shakes her head at Nadya, scolding affectionately, “have to stay still. Yulia said you can’t afford to tear your stitches.”
Nadya rolls her eyes just like I always do. “I’ll behave!” she exclaims.
“Bullshit,” Janella and I laugh in unison.
When she brushes past me, her hand catches mine for a brief moment in time. Her thumb strokes my wrist, and it sends my pulse galloping. She doesn’t say a word. My head turns on its own, just to watch her disappear down the hallway.
“I see what Leo means,” Nadya says as soon as my ass hits the couch cushions. Her mouth quirks into a sly curve.
“What,” I grunt.
“You’re in love. And I mean, head-over-heels, hold a boombox over your head outside her window in love with that girl.”
“Boombox?” I snort. “You weren’t even alive in the 80s, Nads.”
“Ah, but you remember them.” She elbows me in the side, earning a glare. “I’m just catering to your timeline.”
I gently tug on her braid. “How high are you?”
“Not high enough,” she sighs. All she does is shift in her spot, and she winces. All levity drains from her features. “Fuck.Ugh.I fucked up.”
“Yeah,” I agree, never anything but honest with her. “You did.”
Her brows knit together in a frown. I don’t know what’s going through her head, but I know I have to give her a minute. Without a word, I steal her tea and sip at it. Nadya picks at the stitching on her blanket.
“Sometimes,” she says finally, “it’s like a fever takes hold of me. There’s a buzzing beneath my skin, and I have to get it out, or I’ll lose it. I’ll explode or something. You know?”
I know.More than anyone else in our family, I understand.
“Look, you know I don’t agree with Trif. He’s dreaming if he thinks he can keep you from ever crossing the road. You know he only does it because he loves you.” I shoot her a significant look. “But it’s cruel of you not to look both ways before you do, Nads.”
“I’m pretty sure this advice makes you a hypocrite,” Nadya says, her brow arching.
“I’m not trying to be one,” I tell her candidly. “This is empathy, not judgement. I lost count of the number of times in my life I’ve been ready to run off a cliff, flipping off the fucking universe. That rush, that high? I know why you live for it. It’s just not worth dying over.”
Nadya’s features melt. “No one’s dying.”
“You could have. Another inch and it could’ve been your femoral artery.” I hate to tell her, hate the way it makes her frown deepen, and her gaze drop back down to the blanket. But sometimes people need a wake-up call.
“You’re different,” she accuses.
Am I?“I’m changing,” I admit. “I don’t want to some days. But the thrill isn’t the same. It doesn’t feel as worth it when it hurts the people I love.”
“Janella?”
I shrug. “Her, sure. But would Leo have fucked his ankle if I hadn’t made him climb up those crates? Would you have been shot if we hadn’t pissed off the Genovese? Would Zakharov have looked at Janella like she was a chew toy last night? I don’t know. But having to wonder fucking sucks.”
To my surprise, Nadya smiles, exhausted but knowing. “See. Love.”
Denying it feels a lot like lying. “Never thought you’d see the day, huh?”
Nadya’s head drops to my shoulder. I can feel her head shake. “I did, actually,” she says, grabbing the remote and increasing the volume a few points. “I knew it when Trif brought Yulia home. And the first time you held Zinaida. When Val and Gela are wrapped up in their bubble, I think your idea of who you are isn’t always who you actually are.”
My lips press together, then give. “Yulia should’ve checked you for head injuries.”
