ANYA
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The moment Jetmir stepped away to speak with my father, I turned toward Mama, and she opened her arms without saying a word. I didn’t realize how badly I needed my mother’s arms around me until I was enveloped in them.
For a few seconds, I was no longer a grown woman standing on an island that carried too many ghosts. I was simply a daughter who needed her mother.
Her arms tightened around me, and I buried my face in her shoulder, inhaling her familiar perfume.
“I missed you, Mama,” I whispered.
Her hand moved slowly over my hair. “I missed you too.”
“I’m so sorry you had to step foot on this island again.” My throat tightened. “I… I didn’t know.”
She kissed my forehead.
“I didn’t want you to know,” she murmured. “They’re my ghosts to carry, not yours.”
I pulled back to look at her. “Are you okay being here?”
“Today, I am.” Her smile was slightly sad as she brushed a strand of hair from my face. “It gave me back my daughter. We’ll make new memories here that will erase all the bad ones.”
“Mama…”
“I don’t want you to think about any bad things.” She glanced toward the ocean. “I refused to live in the past and so should you. You and the family you create with Jetmir will give me plenty of good memories to erase all I experienced on this island.”
“Are you sure?”
She took my hand and led me toward the cliff that overlooked the sea. For a moment, we just stared at the waves.
“I was wrong to compare Jetmir to Santiago. That man made me feel powerless on this island,” she said quietly. “I can see that your husband is nothing like him. The way he looks at you… it’s the same way your papa looks at me. We should have never kept you away from him.”
“You didn’t.” I squeezed her hand. “I left Jetmir.”
“Initially yes. But once you were back with us, we held on to you too tightly.” She looked at me. “We made it seem like Jetmir and your love for him weren’t a possibility. That was very wrong. It’s not for us to tell you who to love.”
My eyes burned. “It all worked out in the end.”
She wrapped her arms around me again, and I held on to her tightly.
“I want you to promise me one thing,” I whispered.
“Anything.”
“If this island is ever too much… you tell me.” She and Papa got rid of the island they owned because she was triggered by it. I feared being here would prove to be too much too.
She cupped my cheeks.
“I promise.” She wiped beneath my eye as she smiled gently. “But I think I’m ready to put it all behind me. Your husband loves you and would do anything for you. That alone gives me strength. Now your turn, Anya.”
I frowned. “My turn for what?”
“To make me a promise.”
“Okay.”
“I never wanted you to learn about what had happened to me because I didn’t want you to think about bad things. You’re my sunshine and I want you to be happy.” Her fingers threaded through mine. “Don’t re-live my ghosts. Don’t even think about that. In fact, ignore them.”
I didn’t know if I could make that promise. Maybe the girl I used to be three years ago could, but now I was painfully aware of the evil that surrounded us.
“I’ll try,” was all I could commit to as a tear slipped down my cheek.
She pulled me against her chest. “Your papa and his love pulled me out of a dark place. I believe your husband will ensure no darkness ever touches you and that comforts me.”
I closed my eyes. “I love him.”
“I know.”
“I really, really love him.”
“I am happy for you.” Her voice broke slightly, and she kissed my temple.
I pulled away. “Even though he makes you remember bad things?”
She smiled, her eyes drifting toward Jetmir and Papa. “I promise you that he won't make me remember any of it. As long as he makes you happy, he makes me happy too.”
“Oh, he does, Mama. He makes me so happy. He made me happy three years ago too…”
I trailed off, not wanting to spoil the moment.
“We’ll remember here and now,” she murmured. “I have never seen you look at anyone the way you look at Jetmir.”
I laughed through my tears. “Don’t get me wrong, Jetmir can drive me crazy too.”
Mama chuckled. “Hello, have you met your papa?”
I snorted and we both laughed while the loves of our lives looked over at us, wondering what could possibly be so funny.
The world seemed to have fallen back into place, and everything would have been perfect if Elira weren’t in danger.
“I hope Elira is okay,” I rasped.
I didn’t know her well, but I knew how much she meant to Jetmir and Amara, and the thought of losing her—of watching them suffer if something happened to her—cast a shadow over what should have been a perfect moment.
“Don’t worry, your papa and your husband will make sure Elira is okay,” Mama said, reading the concern on my face. She knew me well. “Now, we’re working together and together we’ll get her back.”