7. Blair
Blair
“ I hate you!” Niko cries as he stomps away, storming back toward his room. Frustration wars with weariness as I watch him, silently begging the universe to grant me the fortitude to make it through today.
It took the cops two weeks to release the body for burial.
Two weeks of Niko asking me when his dad’s coming home.
Two weeks of breaking both of our hearts when I told him he won’t.
Two long weeks of sitting next to Mila while she sobbed, trying to get her to give me any sort of preference on funeral arrangements.
Andrei was right about one thing: Daniil did have a lot of his wishes planned out in his will— The plot, the casket, hell, he even picked out a tombstone—but he didn’t state if he wanted a large funeral, or a more intimate affair.
He didn’t say if he wanted a wake. There are so many things he didn’t say, things I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering.
I miss having him here with every breath, but I don’t think I can miss him as much as Niko does. His favorite thing was to be Daniil’s shadow, and not having his favorite person around has plunged both of us into the middle of the ocean in a storm without a lifeboat in sight.
He’s normally a relatively well-behaved child, but he misses his dad, and no matter how many conversations we have about it, Niko doesn’t know how to express grief. So he’s refusing to put on his shoes while he screams at me.
We have to be at the church for the wake I don’t know if Daniil wanted in twenty minutes, and we’ve been having his argument for the last fifteen.
“Niko, please,” I plead, far beyond the point of having any pride. “We both have to be there, it would look—”
I stop.
Daniil would say that it would look bad if we aren’t there on time, but he doesn’t get to worry about appearances anymore. He’s already at the church. Whether or not we’re on time doesn’t matter to him anymore. I look up at the ceiling, squeezing my eyes shut so I don’t ruin my mascara.
Honestly, does it matter if I’m there at all? Daniil would probably want me there if he had a say, but everyone else? They only care if Niko’s there. Andrei might give half a shit, and maybe Maksim wants me there to ensure I'm sufficiently miserable, but I’m barely an afterthought to everyone else.
But I know I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t go. I need to find some sort of closure, and if the only way I’m going to get it is to be surrounded by a bunch of vindictive assholes, then so be it. I’m going to say goodbye.
They don’t get to stop me .
I just have to get Niko to cooperate, and then I can dive headfirst onto that emotional landmine.
“I know you don’t want to go, but I don’t ever want you to regret not going.”
“I want to stay with Baba Mila!” Niko shouts, tears streaming down his already tear-stained face.
He could have slapped me in the face and it would have hurt less. I swallow and try to find the last bits of patience I have left.
He doesn’t mean that.
“She’ll be at the church,” I say gently. “You can hang out with her until it’s time to leave.” I’m sure Mila will appreciate that as much as Niko. I’m pretty sure the only reason she let me into her house while we were planning the funeral was because I brought Niko along.
As he turns as stomps away, I sigh, letting myself bask in the temporary reprieve from our fight before the doorbell chimes through the house.
God, what now?
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m going to answer the door, and then we’re going to put on our shoes,” I call after him, studiously working to ignore the tension winding my shoulders into a knot.
I don’t want to see whoever’s at the door. Anyone who matters is going to be at the wake, and I don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with anyone else today.
As soon as I get to the church, I’ll have to put on the pretty mask that’s expected of me.
I’ll have to be sad, but not too sad. I’ll have to toe the line of being respectful and quiet, nothing but a pretty little doll who lingers on the fringes of everyone’s attention and doesn’t get in the way.
I don’t have to worry about upsetting Daniil if I say the wrong thing or make the wrong face, but I still don’t want to go out of my way to upset anyone more than I already will just by being there.
I can’t afford to let anything happen before I find a way to keep Niko and I safe.
When I open the door, I freeze on instinct when I see Andrei. He’s wearing a somber suit, his hands shoved into his pockets as he leans against the door jamb.
“What are you doing here?” Immediately, I bite my tongue, regretting how harshly that came out. His jaw flexes, and I add this to the list of things I’ve managed to fuck up today. “I’m sorry, I just… wasn’t expecting to see you here. I figured I’d see you at the church.”
“I wanted to check in on you guys. Maybe give you a ride, if you want.” He shrugs. “Make sure you and the kid are alright before you get thrown into the deep end.” I pull the door open a little wider and, reluctantly, gesture for him to come in.
“That’s kind of you.” I smile, but it feels more like a grimace. He takes a quick look around, almost like he’s looking for something.
“Where’s the rugrat?”
“Probably in his room.” I shrug. “He’s refusing to put on shoes.”
“What?”
I gesture down the hall, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.
Which is stupid. No parent can control the little things their children throw fits over.
But even though it’s a little thing, the fact that he’s refusing to listen to me stings.
“He doesn’ t want to put on shoes. He doesn’t want to come to the church with me, and apparently, he thinks if he doesn’t put on his shoes, I’ll go away, and he can spend all his time with Mila. ”
“Wait, what?” Andrei’s brows furrow, his confusion matching my level of frustration.
“He wants to spend all his time with Mila because I upset him, so he doesn’t want to put on his shoes.
” My voice has taken on a hysterical edge, and the way he’s looking at me is too much.
Too much concern, too much pity. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. We’re fine. Today has just been… a lot.”
He glances down the hall, then back at me, like he’s worried any sudden moves will set me off.
“Would it be okay if I talk to him?”
I sit down on the bottom step and nod. What harm could it do?
“Be gentle with him, okay?” His brows pull together, looking offended.
Regret pierces my chest, and I look at the floor.
“He’s upset. He likes you, but he’s probably going to lash out if you push him.
” Andrei’s never been anything but kind with Niko, and I don’t think he’ll go out of his way to make him feel any worse, but I need to set expectations.
“He’s not… acting like himself.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he mumbles to himself before walking down the hall, leaving me alone, feeling like a massive idiot.
I need help to get a toddler to wear shoes, for god’s sake, and as soon as someone who can help shows up, I make them out to be some sort of monster.
Andrei isn’t a monster. Not to Niko, anyway. He’d never do anything to hurt him. And he’s never actually hurt me, just… threatened my life. But that doesn’t mean he deserves to be pushed away at every turn. Especially not when he’s here to help, for fuck’s sake.
I smooth my hands over the skirt of my dress. Maybe if I look like I have everything together, I’ll start to feel that way, too. I double check that my heels are lined up next to the door, right next to Niko’s shoes, where he can’t pretend he doesn’t see them, and follow after the two of them.
I appreciate Andrei’s offer, but I can’t expect him to fix this for me.
“I miss him,” Niko says quietly, and my steps stutter to a stop in the hall, feeling like my breath is stuck in my lungs. “Mama said he’s not coming back, but she’s lying.” He sniffs. I clench my hands together, aching to comfort him.
“Why do you say that?” Andrei’s voice is sympathetic but unyielding. “Has your mama ever lied to you before?”
A beat of quiet passes while I try not to drown in my own grief and doubts.
“No. But he promised, and Papa doesn’t break his promises.” I lean against the wall, letting my head fall softly against it.
“Niko, buddy… He didn’t. He fought tooth and nail to come back to you, you’ve gotta believe me.”
“Then where is he? Why isn’t he here?” Niko’s voice wobbles, and even though he’s asked me that question a hundred times, I don’t envy Andrei having to answer it again.
None of the parenting books covered this.
“Your mama didn’t lie, and your papa didn’t break his promise,” Andrei eventually answers. “Sometimes things happen that are out of anyone’s control, and this was one of them.” There’s a shuffle, and Niko’s hiccupped cries become muffled. “I miss him, too. And so does your mama.”
“Then she should make him come home. He listens to her.”
Andrei sighs, and all my failures hit me square in the chest. “If there was any way that she could, she would. Both of them would do anything if it’d bring him back to you, but…
” He clears his throat. “But he’s gone. And none of us can change that.
” Niko’s sobs get louder, and I slink back to the entryway to give them some privacy.
Andrei’s right. I’d do anything to bring Daniil back, if only to make it easier on Niko.
That boy needs his father. He always has, and he always will.
He was born into this cruel, careless world, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to guide him through it alone.
I don’t know how to make sure he’s prepared for everything that’s going to be expected of him. For everything that he’ll have to do.
All I know is that I can’t do this alone. Not for the first time, I want to grab something and break it, just to have control over something.
When Niko was born, Daniil promised me he would look after him and help guide him. Now? Now, I’m just as lost as Niko.