Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AVELINA
I move a single inch, and Viktor’s head snaps toward me.
“Don’t worry, I’m not getting up,” I assure him as I rearrange the pillow behind my head.
Ever since I made my way down the stairs this morning, it’s been like this.
A cold glare or a reminder from him that I should be resting.
My body is weak, but I can only sleep so much, and I’m getting restless after spending most of yesterday either in the hospital bed or Viktor’s bed.
At that moment, the person I’m dreading to see barges in.
Babulya. Oh nooo…
Viktor immediately leaps to his feet and puts himself between his grandmother and me. “I swear, Baba, I’m not lying,” he pleads in rapid Russian. “Avelina really is the ex-partner of an old army comrade.”
Viktor told me that he tried to explain everything to her yesterday, but she wouldn’t listen, stormed off, and has since refused to speak to him.
At that moment, Babulya stops glaring at me for long enough to notice Sofia and Leon, who are playing quietly with building blocks behind the couch. Babulya’s eyebrows shoot up. “You were telling the truth, Viktor, when you said she was ill and needed help looking after her children?”
Viktor explains it all to her again. And I know the exact moment the information sinks in.
Because Babulya’s face softens like someone just flipped a switch.
Her fierce warrior-grandma expression collapses into wide-eyed horror, and then, just as suddenly, she’s misty-eyed.
She lets out a dramatic gasp—theatrical, like a soap opera star discovering her twin has been evil this whole time—and clutches her chest.
“Oh, the poor family!” she cries, then sweeps past me in a blur of apron and determination. Babulya collapses to her knees, as if Sofia is some kind of royalty. “Ohhhh, my precious girl!” she declares. “You must call me Baba!”
And Sofia, despite often being wary around strangers, shoots a shy smile at the beaming woman while I gape. Luckily, I’ve raised Sofia to be bilingual in English and Russian, so she has no problem understanding Babulya.
Leon starts to wail, so Viktor picks him up and puts him in my arms.
I start to soothe my son, but it’s too late. Babulya’s already snatched Leon from my arms like a grandma-shaped hawk swooping down on prey.
“Oh, my angel!” she croons, bouncing him expertly on her hip. “Let your Baba make you better,” she trills while patting his curls like he’s a petting zoo exhibit.
“Viktor,” I hiss under my breath. “Is this safe?”
“She raised me,” he says with a shrug. “I lived, right?”
Leon gurgles happily, drooling all over Babulya’s apron. Instead of looking horrified, she beams like he just recited poetry.
Then Babulya starts scolding me. “You are too thin! Your hair needs an oil treatment! You are now my granddaughter, so you will sit down and eat my pancakes!”
My jaw drops. “Er…pancakes?”
As if on cue, Babulya marches toward the kitchen, baby in one arm, Sofia skipping at her side, barking orders like a scary general.
And Viktor gives me an almost-smile. “Welcome to the family. Resistance is futile.”
“Your delivery is here, boss.” A man with a buzzcut and outfit similar to about fifteen other men I’ve seen today pokes his head into the rec room during the afternoon. Sofia sits on the ground by my side while Leon bounces in a chair that most certainly wasn’t here last night.
“Put it by the door!” It’s a gruff order from Viktor. At least he’s that way with everyone and not just me.
Leon’s huff at being in the seat too long hit my ears, and I move to stand.
“Stay!” Viktor huffs at me.
I freeze.
Viktor switches his glare to one of his men. “Andre, you get him!”
Andre and I exchange a look. Viktor is really taking this whole bedrest thing far too seriously.
Andre rolls his eyes not so subtly and hefts Leon from the seat.
Seconds later, Leon is in my lap, his chubby hands roaming over my face and playing with the ends of my hair that hang over my shoulder from my ponytail.
My gaze shifts around the rec room. I don’t remember so many toys and puzzles here when I walked past this room yesterday, but maybe I hadn’t been looking too carefully.
“What did you order?” I ask Viktor, trying to make conversation.
“What?”
“The delivery?” I point at the boxes.
“They’re puzzles,” he murmurs.
My head tilts, and Leon copies the motion, earning a soft chuckle from me before he plops down on my lap and starts babbling. “Puzzles?”
Viktor’s gaze flicks up from his phone briefly before back down, peering at me from the corner of his eyes. “Yes.”
I take in the two gigantic boxes that were just delivered. My jaw drops slightly. “That’s…all puzzles?”
Viktor shrugs and nods.
“Do you really like puzzles or something?” I ask him.
This time, Viktor looks at me, his brow scrunched.
He’s put quite some distance between us, always staying at least three meters away.
He opens the boxes and pulls out a multitude of puzzles—many of them with a pink theme.
My Little Pony, Care Bears, some unicorn puzzles, and various others.
“Not for me,” he explains with a shrug before he sets the puzzles on the coffee table where Sofia is currently piecing together another one.
“You…bought them all for Sofia?”
He nods.
“I…” My mouth opens and shuts. When did he order all this stuff? More importantly, why? Why so many?
Viktor’s sharp inhale of breath snaps me out of my thoughts. Leon is no longer in my lap, and instead, he’s tottering between the sofa and coffee table, his small hands reaching out as he gets closer and closer to Viktor, babbling up a storm.
Viktor’s blue eyes are glued to him. And his chest is rising and falling quicker than it was before.
“Viktor?” I say carefully.
He ignores me as Leon reaches out to him. And Viktor staggers back before he realizes there’s nowhere else to go.
I scoot across and grab Leon before he can reach Viktor.
The audible sigh of relief that leaves Viktor gives me all the answers I need. The space he gave us yesterday. The panic just now as Leon got closer. “You don’t like being touched,” I say quietly.
His eyes snap to mine, and I’m not really sure what I see there. Confusion? Relief? Shame?
“No, I don’t like it,” he answers.
“You didn’t say anything earlier?” I feel guilt burn in my chest. How uncomfortable have I been making him this whole time?
Like when I kissed his cheek as I left the first time, or when I reached out to grab his arm when I got out of the car from the hospital yesterday, or when I handed him Leon last night.
And this whole time, he’d just dealt with it. “I’m so sorry, Viktor.”
“It’s fine.”
But it doesn’t quite feel fine, especially when he’s been so kind to us. “Sofia isn’t a big fan either,” I say softly. Even now, she’s put some space between us.
“I know,” Viktor says quietly.
My brow crinkles.
“She kept inching away when I was reading before,” he explains.
My gaze drifts to Sofia on the floor, finishing her eleventh puzzle of the morning.
“I guess that’s why you bought more, huh?” I say, turning my attention back to Viktor.
He nods. “She just opened that one like five minutes ago.” A frown crosses his expression. “These new puzzles won’t last long. I should get more—”
“No, you can’t!”
Sofia and Viktor both look startled at my outburst. I flush. “What I mean is…these are more than enough. You’re doing far more than you need to. And maybe these new puzzles will take her a little longer. Really, Viktor, this is more than enough.”
“She finishes them much faster than most people. She’s very good at pattern recognition,” he remarks.
“She is, yeah.”
“She should go into computer coding when she gets older,” he says.
“She should?”
“People who are good with patterns tend to excel in that field. Pattern recognition allows programmers to identify recurring structures or sequences within a problem, making it easier for them to understand and solve.”
I study him. “How do you know that? Is that what you do?”
“No. I, uh…must’ve read it somewhere.”
My lips twitch, but I don’t call him out on his white lie. I’ve noticed the way he avoids looking at me, doesn’t like touch, and doesn’t like too much noise. And that all tells me…it’s more than him just reading about such subjects. He’s like Sofia.
“Well, thanks. I’ll remember that for when she’s older. And thanks for all this. Truly.”
His cheeks pinken slightly as he shrugs. “Don’t mention it. I just…” He drags a hand through his hair. “I’m trying to make sure they’ve got stuff to do. Leon’s content with sticking everything in his mouth and doesn’t seem to cry as much now that you’re here. But Sofia…”
Sofia is a little harder to entertain. I know that, and I nod.
She’s always been like this, and I don’t think that’s a bad thing.
She’s just different than her brother, and I love her for it.
She’s never really been interested in toys, not even the ones that clutter the floor around us right now.
Before Viktor got the puzzles out, she just stared at the dolls and games like she wasn’t sure what she was meant to be doing with them.
But the fact that he even noticed has my stomach swarming with butterflies.
“Done,” Sofia proclaims as she finishes yet another puzzle.
“New record, kiddo,” Viktor praises. “How about we leave those for later.”
She nods, looking around the room as if she’s getting a little bored but is unsure what to do next. The Barbies and the dream house—a beautiful white mansion I’d wished I’d had as a girl—remain untouched. The tea set and pretend kitchen as well. “What do I do now?” Sofia whispers. She looks unsure.
I look about the room, trying to find something else that might interest her. Anything…
“There’s a garden,” Viktor says suddenly. Both Sofia and I look to him. “Out back. We could go there. If you want?”
“What kind of garden?” Sofia asks.
I’m about to tell him that he doesn’t need to entertain her if he’s busy with work, but Sofia’s eyes are sparking with interest, and I hate to crush that.
“Vegetables,” he blurts out.
My mouth drops a little. “You have a vegetable garden?”
Again, his cheeks pinken, and he scrubs the back of his neck with his hand. Almost like he’s embarrassed about the fact he has a garden.
And to be fair, it’s not exactly what I pictured him to be like in his spare time. But the mental image of him—his sleeves rolled up, tattoos exposed, and arm muscles straining as he works in a garden—makes me squeeze my legs together. Shaking my head, I swiftly banish that picture from my mind.
“I do,” he answers. “It’s…not anything special.”
“I’m sure it is,” I say, and Sofia nods eagerly. “Gardening is a special talent. I’ve always wanted my own garden, but we’ve been living in apartments. The most we’ve done is some herbs in window boxes.”
“Can we see it? Please?” Sofia asks.
He nods. “We can.”
Sofia jumps to her feet. A smile tugs at my lips once more at her enthusiasm. She skips toward the door before I follow.
“You should stay and rest,” Viktor says in a gruff tone.
I shake my head. “Not a chance. I want to see this garden too.” I pop Leon in his stroller.
I swear I hear a sharp intake of air as I pass Viktor—although I’m careful not to touch him this time. He’s been so kind and considerate, and it’s the least I can do.
I pause at the door, looking back to where he’s frozen by the coffee table, his brow pinched like he’s trying to work out some tough problem in his head. “Are you coming, Viktor?”
The look he gives me makes my stomach flip over and knees go weak. It’s not quite a smile, but it’s something else that I can’t quite explain.