39 In an Instant
THIRTY-NINE
In an Instant
I remember every second of that day. Every fucking second. No mother could forget a single thing about the day she signed her child away.
We were in a nondescript restaurant, in the back, behind curtains. My chair was soft. I think it was covered in velvet. Wlad wasn’t there, nor was Vitali. There was just my dad, me, and a bunch of men I’d never seen in my life. They were hard and unsmiling.
One of the men sat across from me. I clenched my jaw tight, willing myself not to shed one tear in front of these people. I heard a whisper, then a laugh. How dare they, I thought. It was the worst moment of my life, and someone was laughing.
I picked up the pen. My hands were shaking, so I gripped. Harder. Every muscle in my body was tight, and my face felt like it was on fire. I could not break down. I wouldn’t let them see me crack. Ever.
As my pen hovered over the signature line, my stomach fell deep into my pelvis, where Kaya had been only three years before.
It was bleeding again, or at least it felt that way.
The life was draining out of me every second I delayed signing the papers in front of me.
I looked up, and there was a face I recognized: one of Vitali’s friends.
He smiled, and I closed my eyes. Not one ounce of empathy from these motherfuckers.
Not one bit of understanding that the person they’d signed their allegiance to had taken ten seconds to make Kaya, while I’d held her inside me for almost ten months.
I’d investigated all my options. I could sue Wlad for custody in the United States and Ukraine, but that would mean waging a years-long legal battle in two countries.
Maybe I could afford that financially, but it would destroy me psychologically at a time when my heart and soul were weaker than they’d ever been.
I was still in recovery. Not just that; I was at the beginning of my recovery.
I tried to understand Wlad’s motivation.
Maybe he’d backed me into a corner, in a country where I didn’t hold the authority he did, because he knew he’d lose Kaya otherwise.
Wlad understood that if I chose to fight and get on his level, I would start a fire so fucking fast that he’d have to run for his life.
I was capable of giving him whiplash, and he knew it.
Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned.
Then I thought of Kaya, my blue-eyed beauty with blond ringlets and a smile so sweet it could break your heart.
I’d felt such fear as a child that I panicked during auditions, terrified of being judged.
I’d also gotten trapped in a war between my parents, then had to find my way out alone.
There were so many times—with the paparazzi, on sets, and even alone in my own home—when I hadn’t felt safe.
Kaya’s life didn’t have to be that way. Being vulnerable could be a blessing, but not at the expense of personal security.
Kaya needed to feel at rest, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.
Could I fight Wlad? Sure. Did I want to?
Yes. But should I? No. I couldn’t do it to my Kaya.
I signed the papers, and Wlad got our child.