I stare, frozen, as he gets closer, those blue eyes—my eyes—locked onto mine. He stops right next to the bed, and for a second, neither of us moves. I’m not even sure I’m breathing.
And then, without a word,Alexreaches out, his tiny hand brushing against mine, his fingers curling around my own.
“Bwigman, are youwokey?”
Everything in me goes still.
The room fades away—the noise, the chatter, the laughter. All I feel is that small, warm hand in mine. I freeze, every instinct screaming at me to do something, anything, but I can’t move.
What the hell do I do now?
81
Dimitri
“I…”
I try to respond, to say something, anything, but the words are lodged somewhere in my throat.
“Alex,” Nico pipes up, coming right up to Alex and looking at him like he’s the expert on all things. “He’s notBig Man. He’sDyadyaDima.”
“Dyad…yaDima?” Alex tries, his small mouth struggling with the syllables. He looks up at me, his brow furrowed, like he’s trying to make sense of who I am.Suka.My heart twists in a way that’s foreign and uncomfortable, and I don’t know what the hell to say to this kid—my kid—calling meuncle.
Nico is oblivious to my turmoil, his face bright with pride as he gestures toward Luka. “This is my papa. He’s the world’s best surfer!” His chest puffs out like he’s just announced his father is the king of the world.
Luka reaches out a hand, and Alex, after a moment of hesitation, gives him a small fist bump, the tiniest smile tugging at his lips.
“Hwello, Niko papa,” Alex says quietly, his voice so soft it almost gets lost in the room’s noise. Then, he hugs his stuffed bear tighter to his chest, glancing down.
“I… don’t have apapa.”
Blyat, the words rip through me like a bullet through flesh—the same flesh that’s already been perforated by real bullets. The pain is familiar, but this kind of pain don’t heal with a few stitches.
I don’t have a papa.
Something breaks inside me—a sharp crack that leaves me empty and aching. My eyes flicker over to Luka, who’s looking at Alex with a softness that cuts me deeper than I thought possible.
Luka’s smile falters, and for a second, there’s a flash of something in his eyes—pity, sympathy, maybe. He catches my gaze, and I see it—the understanding, the unspoken words hanging in the air. He knows. He knows that those words, coming from my own kid, have shredded me.
Erik clears his throat, breaking the heavy silence that’s settled over the room.
“Well, looks like we’ve got to fix that, huh?” He moves toward Alex, crouching down to meet his gaze. “How about you call him whatever you want, little man?” He glances at me, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe not ‘Big Man,’ though. We’ve got enough big egos in this room.”
Alex looks up at Erik, then at me, his eyes curious and unsure.
“Can Ikwallyou… Papa?”
My chest tightens, and I swallow hard. “Yeah, kid. You… you can call me that.”
His eyes light up, a smile breaking across his face, and he nods, satisfied. He shuffles closer to me, his small fingers stillclutching that bear, and I reach out, my hand trembling as I rest it gently on his head. His hair is soft, and for a moment, I just close my eyes, feeling the weight of his trust settle over me.
“Yeah! Ihwavea papa now!” Alex suddenly throws his arms around me, his tiny body pressing close, and I catch a faint whiff of whatever baby shampoo Wren uses on him. So innocent.
The warmth of his hug hits me like a sledgehammer, and I see the bandage on his neck—I clench my jaw, feeling something inside me about to burst—guilt, shame, like a pressure building, ready to blow.
How did I miss all this? How did I let this happen?
“Ihwaveto tell Momma,” Alex chirps, pure excitement lighting up his face, “andUwncleLenny, and Mwises Pam…” He rattles off a few more names I don’t recognize, friends I’ve never met, lives he’s lived that I wasn’t a part of.
