Valerie
The nightmare hits Mila three days later.
I hear her screaming from down the hall—not the usual whimpers, but full-blown terror. I'm out of bed and running before conscious thought catches up.
She's thrashing in bed, covers tangled around her legs, sobbing for her mama.
"Mila, sweetheart, wake up." I kneel beside her, careful not to grab her suddenly. "You're safe. You're home. Wake up, baby."
Her eyes fly open. Unfocused. Still trapped in the nightmare.
"Mama's bleeding, they won't stop, she won't wake up…"
"Shh, I know. But it's not real. It's just a dream. Your mama's at peace now. She's not hurting." I stroke her hair. "And you're safe. I'm here. Papa's here. You're safe."
Lev appears in the doorway. Shirtless, gun in hand, instantly alert.
I shake my head slightly. Just a nightmare. Stand down.
He holsters the weapon but doesn't leave. Just watches as I calm his daughter.
"Can you sing the song?" Mila's voice is small. Broken.
"Of course." I pull her into my lap and start the lullaby. Russian words I learned from my father, probably the same ones Katya sang to this child before she died.
Mila's breathing evens out. The tears slow. She burrows against me like she can crawl inside my ribcage and hide there.
Lev sits on the edge of the bed. One hand on Mila's back. The other covering mine where it rests on her hair.
A family moment. Broken and rebuilt wrong, but still a family.
We stay like that until Mila falls back asleep. Then I carefully lay her down, tuck the covers around her small body, kiss her forehead.
Lev lingers at the door. "You're good with her."
First compliment in three weeks. The words settle in my chest like treasure.
"I love her." Simple truth.
"I know." He pulls me into the hallway, away from Mila's door. "That's why you're still here. Because she loves you and you'd die protecting her."
"I would. Without hesitation."
He pulls me toward his room. Not for sex this time. Just to hold me.
We lie in his bed in the dark, tangled together, and he strokes my hair with gentle fingers.
"I don't know how to forgive you," he admits. Voice rough. Vulnerable. "Every time I think I'm past it, something reminds me, and the anger comes back. The hurt. The betrayal."
"I know." My hand finds his in the dark. "I don't expect forgiveness. Just... a chance to prove I'm on your side now. That I'll bleed for you and Mila. That I'm worth keeping despite everything."
"You are worth keeping. That's the problem." His arms tighten around me. "I should let you go. Send you somewhere safe. Protect you from the war that's coming. But I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I need you." The confession sounds torn from him. "Need you here. Need to see you with Mila. Need to feel you beside me at night. Need to know you're safe where I can protect you instead of wondering if Patrick found you somewhere I'm not."
"Then I stay."
"Even though I can't promise forgiveness? Can't promise I'll ever trust you completely again?"
"Even then." I press closer. "Because I love you. Because Mila needs me. Because this broken thing between us is still worth fighting for."
He kisses my forehead. My cheeks. My mouth. Gentle kisses that taste like maybe, eventually, we'll heal.
"Promise me something," he whispers.
"Anything."
"Don't leave. No matter how hard this gets. Or how impossible it feels. Stay."
"I promise." No hesitation. "I'm not going anywhere, Lev. You're stuck with me."
"Good." He pulls me impossibly closer. "Because I can't lose you. Can't survive losing someone else I—" He stops.
I wait for him to finish.
He doesn't.
But the almost-confession is enough. Proof that underneath the anger and hurt, something still exists. Something worth protecting.
We fall asleep like that. Holding each other against whatever comes next.
And for the first time since my confession in that basement, I let myself believe we might actually survive this.
That maybe love is enough to rebuild what betrayal destroyed.
That maybe two broken people can heal each other.