22. Laila
22
LAILA
I follow the smell of freshly baked bread to the kitchen and find Polina pulling out a tray of scones. “Whoa. Who are you trying to impress?”
She pops a kiss on Nina’s forehead as she passes. “You, actually. I’m hoping I can get you to eat a proper meal today.”
I’ve been picking at my food like a bird for weeks now. Polina has made it clear that if I skip any more meals, she’s going to start to take it personally. The problem is, I just haven’t been hungry. Not since the moment Arsen came in to tell me about my mom.
Polina takes Nina from my arms and plops her on her lap. I still don’t have much of an appetite, but I sit down anyway. “How can I say no to fresh scones?”
“‘Atta girl.” Polina pushes the tray of jams towards me. “Help yourself.”
“Is it just me today? Where are the boys?”
“Gedeon’s on duty and Dominik is spending the morning with Kira.”
For the first time in a while, I wasn’t just talking about Dominik and Gedeon. I haven’t seen Arsen since the other night outside my door. He’s finally giving me the space I asked for, and now, I’m seeking him out. I don’t miss the irony in any of it, but I choose to ignore it anyway.
“I was kind of hoping for a quiet morning, just the two of us.” Polina pulls a white envelope from her apron pocket. “I have something for you.” I’m reaching across the table for it when she tacks on, “It’s from Arsen.”
My hand hovers there, frozen with indecision. The envelope is too small to be more jewelry or the severed head of Arsen’s enemies, but I know better than to underestimate him.
It doesn’t matter, though. Polina pushes it into my hand. “Open it.”
If I do, reality as I know it could crash down around me.
If I don’t, I’ll always wonder what was inside.
Curiosity wins out and I rip it open.
I recognize Arsen’s slashing penmanship. The lines are as neat and efficient as the man who wrote them.
Laila,
I’ve enrolled you in Zen Academy. Before you refuse, you should know this isn’t a gift—it’s an investment. When you complete your training and open your own studio, I plan to invest. I intend to make sure my investment is successful. Gedeon or Dominik will drive you to your classes in the morning, and I’ll make sure your afternoons are free to be with Nina.
Love, Arsen
I read the letter once and then again, trying to process what it means.
“Everything okay?” Polina asks.
I try to respond, but I can’t find the words. So I hand her the letter instead.
She reads it through with a frown. “Zen Academy?”
“It’s a yoga training school.” I scan the letter again just to make sure I didn’t imagine it all. “It’s… expensive. One of the most prestigious yoga schools in the state.”
Polina seems confused, her eyes flicking from the letter to me, trying to gauge how she should respond. “That’s great, right?”
Maybe if it was anything else, I’d be able to school my reaction—to see this as just another attempt by Arsen to buy my forgiveness.
But this isn’t anything else.
“I can finally get my certification, Polina!” Tears well in my eyes, and I have to blink them back.
“Definitely great, then.” Polina grins. “I’m happy for you, Laila.”
I’m happy for me, too. For the first time in weeks, I’m happy.
It’s impossible not to trace the feeling right back to my estranged husband.
I put the envelope on the table, nerves and excitement gnawing at my insides. “He’s trying to make amends.”
“Sounds like he’s doing a good job. You should let him.”
I pick at the scone on my plate, too confused to care about the perfect tang of berries against the sugar lemon glaze. “I just don’t want him getting the wrong idea.”
Especially since I might be getting the wrong idea.
“Which is what? That you want to become a yoga instructor?”
I level her with a glare. “You know what I mean.”
“Honey, you might be overthinking this. It’s a lovely gesture, but I don’t think he’s expecting anything from you.”
“Wake up and smell the bribery, Pol! He’s trying to wear me down.”
I wouldn’t be so upset about it if it wasn’t working so well.
Nina swipes out for the letter, and I let her take it. She bunches it in her chubby fists before Polina can pluck it away again. “Wear you down as in…?”
“He wants back into my life. He wants things to go back to the way they used to be.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Would that really be so bad?”
“I should’ve known you’d be on his side,” I grumble.
She rears back, offended. “I slapped that boy in the face for the way he treated you. I moved out!”
I stiffen. “You did?”
“Sure as hell did. The only reason I came back was because Arsen told me he was bringing you home.”
Suddenly, my eyes and throat are all scratchy. “He never mentioned that to me.”
“You’d have to be talking to him for him to mention anything to you,” she points out gently.
“We talk. Er… he talks, I guess. Last night, he told me about his father.”
A small jar of jam tumbles to the table, making us both jump. Polina rights it and then presses a hand to her chest. “He did?”
“Yeah, and I thought it was a pretty big deal even before you reacted like that.”
“He never talks about his father.” Polina is squinting at me as my daughter tugs on her tight bun. Nina has almost got the thing unbound, and Polina doesn’t even realize.
“He wanted me to understand why he sent me away—why he pushed me away after Dominik got hurt.”
“I hope you understand why I felt it wasn’t my place to tell you,” she says softly. “But I’m glad he finally did.”
“Were you there?” I whisper.
Polina’s eyes fill with tears she has to blink away. “Yes. I suppose we all hold some of the blame. I saw how badly Dimitri was suffering after Nina’s funeral. I just assumed it would pass.”
“You couldn’t have known?—”
“But I should have,” she insists. “He was my best friend’s husband. Nina asked me to take care of him for her. Not even a month after she was gone, I failed her.”
I place a hand on her knee. “You and Arsen aren’t responsible for what happened with Dimitri. He was a grown man?—”
“—who needed help,” she says harshly. “ My help.”
I gently pry Nina from Polina’s lap, giving the woman the freedom to sink down in her chair the way I can tell she wants to. “I’ve watched you do this job for over a year now, Polina. You haven’t failed Nina at all. In fact, I think you’ve made her proud.”
Polina sniffles. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“I’m not saying it to be kind; I’m saying it because I think it’s true.”
“He’s letting you in, Laila,” she says. “He’s trying to share himself with you. That’s not something he’s ever done. With anyone.”
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to fight the wave of fear that rises in my throat. “I want to move forward, Polina—I’m just scared. What if I lower my guard and he pulls the rug out from underneath me again? I’m not sure I can survive it a second time.”
“Love is always a risk, sweetheart.”
My lips seal together. “I love my mother. But I don’t want to make the same mistakes she did. She wasted her life loving a man who didn’t love her back. I don’t want to do that.”
Polina’s eyes are sharp and searching. “Do you really believe that Arsen doesn’t love you?”
My heart jabs at my ribcage. “He didn’t marry me because he loved me, Polina. He married me because it was convenient. He had motives. Still does, I’d wager.”
“Two things can be true at the same time, can’t they?”
“Maybe,” I concede. “I’m just not sure they are.”