Chapter 13 Alexsei
ALEXSEI
Of all the questions she could’ve asked me, she had to start with something about my dead wife.
Talking about Elena was something I tried to avoid at all costs. Regardless of who was asking.
Yet, I had been so eager for Kalina to finally open up toward me that I had to reply in some way.
I sighed, tossing the dish towel back to the counter. Instead of going back out there and testing the odds that she might be more nervous with it just being me and her inside the cabin, I set my hands on the edge of the counter and hung my head.
Losing Elena was hell. We hadn’t known each other for long, spontaneously meeting then marrying so soon because she’d fallen pregnant when we dated.
Altogether, I’d only known her for two and a half years of the thirty-two that I’d spent on this planet so far.
We hadn’t shared enough with each other to gain a long-standing and deep love like what the others so clearly had.
The deep connection that Luka and Gabriella forged.
The soulmate bond that Ivan and Raisa held.
Or the kismet union that Emil and Sadie found.
Elena had been my wife and at that time, I was sure that we could mutually learn more about each other over time to be happy as a couple. I had been willing to try that, as had she.
But I failed.
I’d failed to save her, too slow to get her out of that fire that consumed the building she’d been led to, all because some other families wanted to attack the Dubinin Dynasty in any way they could.
The sound of the front door opening pulled me from the morose thoughts.
Misha barreled in, begging Kalina to come watch him play outside.
I cringed, nervous that he was pushing her too far, too much. Kalina was growing out of her shell, but it was a slow, careful process.
To my surprise, though, she agreed with those quiet and mild one-word answers. Misha whooped with glee, hurrying to help her get her coat, boots, and gloves on.
Once the door shut again after them as they headed outside, leaving me alone in the cabin, I huffed out a dry laugh and turned to rest my butt against the counter.
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” I muttered to myself.
Misha was working wonders on her. He could get her to trust him. He was making great strides in urging her to talk to him and to not be so scared to feel like she could fit in here.
I wanted to kick myself for ever worrying about bringing Misha with me and Kalina. Without him, she would’ve been more scared and nervous. My son was the middle ground she needed.
Still, as I pushed off the counter to watch them outside, I wished I could be doing more.
That she could trust me, too.
Catching her smiling as Misha taught her how to fall back into the snow to make snow angels, I wished she could let loose to truly rely on us to help her recover and heal past her trauma.
A heavy sigh pulled at me as I watched them play and tromp around in the snow.
It was a shame that she’d been stuck with Erik and Yusef for however long she had been.
No longer like a feral, scared animal, she moved more freely.
Not like a child, but with a youthful carelessness I bet she hadn’t ever been able to show.
With a wonder to move and laugh, a freedom to be goofy without anyone stopping her.
This was a good look on her.
Smiling.
Gazing at the sky with relief, not squinting with suspicion.
Falling into the soft snow and stretching out, not curling over and cowering like fearing a hit.
It looked really good on her.
Happiness had never seemed like such a gorgeous thing for a woman to wear.
And it quickly became infectious, prompting me to join in with them out there.
Misha squealed with delight when he saw me exit the cabin.
“Daddy!” He leaped up, tricking me to catch him in my arms. I laughed, thrilled that he still loved me this much. And it was the perfect window of timing for him to smash a snowball on my back.
“Ahh!” I laughed and shook off the cold. “Ooh, I’ll pay you back for that.”
“Not if you can’t catch me!” He dropped to the snow, stooping to gather snow for forming another ball before taking off.
I laughed, used to roughhousing like this with him. “I will!” I taunted. But as I lowered to grab snow for a snowball, I deliberately moved slowly, pretending to run but not.
One day, I’d have to stop letting him “win” as much, but he was just a boy, a child to enjoy and play with.
Faking confusion as Misha ran among some trees, I looked around from side to side. “Where’d he go?”
Misha’s giggles sounded from my left. I turned to focus on the right. “I’m going to find you,” I teased.
More laughter, behind me now.
“Where are you?”
Pausing to glance at Kalina kneeling in the snow, I caught sight of her trying not to smile.
“I can’t find him,” I called out.
More laughter behind another tree.
“Did you see where he went?” I asked Kalina.
She shrugged, playing along as well.
“Dang it, I have no clue…” I dropped my snowball just before Misha darted from another direction behind me and tried to smash the snowball in my back.
Whirling around, I caught him, and we both laughed as I fell, letting him drop on top of me.
Once more, he cracked up and ran off, pumping his fists in the air in victory.
I leaned up on my elbow and smiled after him, feeling lighter and more peaceful in my heart since that little trip down memory lane, those darker reminders of how he didn’t have a mother.
He had me.
And I would always do everything in my power to be the best parent I could be for him.
Losing track of the time, I stayed out there and played with Misha.
Kalina was there, but I was careful not to engage with her directly.
I had to let her take the initiative, to let her show me if she wanted my presence any closer than this.
While I wasn’t excluding her, I focused on Misha, realizing he was the neutral territory between us both.
Later, when the sun began to set, Misha jumped on me and got snow beneath the collar of my coat, chilling me. He looked cold and maybe a little wet too, so I suggested we head in so I could start preparing dinner.
I stood, brushing off what snow I could. “Your nose is getting red,” I told him.
He shot to his feet and shuddered. “I guess I am a little cold.”
Offering my hand to Kalina since she had fallen into a thicker pile of snow, I waited to see if she’d take it.
She carefully put her hand into mine, and despite the gloves between our fingers, I felt too aware of her putting this much basic trust in me.
And it felt damned good.
Smiling widely, I watched as Misha darted ahead. “I’m gonna take a bath to warm up.”
“Okay,” I called after him, following him inside. Kalina fell into step behind me.
Being the messy boy he was prone to be when he was in a rush, Misha left a trail of soggy, cold gear from the front door. His boots kicked off haphazardly to land in opposite directions. His coat flung toward a chair but missed it. Gloves dropped as he went, then socks.
I sighed, picking them up as I went to hang them dry. But once I had all his things on hooks and then mine too, I noticed Kalina passing by on her way from the mudroom space.
A chill cut through me now that my outer layers were missing. Without thinking about it, I reached over my head and wrenched my thermal shirt off.
Kalina gasped.
Fuck.
I shouldn’t have done it. I had to be more mindful of even the simplest things.
It wouldn’t do any good for her to see the scars on my body, all the places I’d been cut, burned, or shot in the years of being a Dubinin soldier, then supervisor.
But as I looked at her, catching the instant pink spreading over her face, I realized she hadn’t gasped from the hideous sight of my body, the reminders of violence I’d endured.
That rosiness on her cheeks wasn’t from the cold.
A woman only diverted her gaze like that when she was caught ogling, an appreciative glimpse cut too short.
Even… a forbidden look.
I smiled, shaking my head slightly. A small chuckle escaped me. Maybe it was wrong to be amused that she was aware of me as a man, but I had no intention to put her on the spot like this, no plan to intimidate her in any way.
“Sorry,” I said, making less of the moment by looking away and sidestepping her. The less attention I gave her or that shy look, the better.
Long after that moment, though, the concept of her being aware of me started to eat away at my patience.
That she could eventually see me not as a monster or threat.
But as a friend?
Support?
Something more?
You’re getting way ahead of yourself, moron.
Her modesty wasn’t a trivial concept, nothing to joke about in the least.
That night, though, she started to come out of her shell a little more. I knew it wasn’t her seeing me bare chested, but more because of the fun in the snow. Of being outside and free to do whatever she wanted. It was the easygoing entertainment of playing with Misha out front.
She started to maintain eye contact with me in longer bursts. She replied to Misha with more than one- or two-word answers. While she wasn’t bursting to share details about herself, there was a marginal yet noticeable shift in how closed off she was with both of us.
Over games, we got her to talk more.
Every meal, with more offers of a second helping, she began to make more choices for herself in what she wanted.
At random times, she’d speak a little further, even with me, about what she liked or didn’t like.
It was usually about simple things, such as what flavors were best with hot cocoa or what we thought the burning embers of the fire in the fireplace looked like.
Every additional bit of communication mattered.
It mattered so much that by the end of the second week out here, she seemed far less like a job. Not an assignment.
But like a missing puzzle piece to us. Me, Misha, and Kalina—at peace and comfortable in this hideaway up in the remote wilderness. Far from the city. Distanced from the hell she’d endured.
Like we could make a cohesive unit together, just the three of us as she learned how to get over her trauma.