“When will they be back?” I ask out of curiosity.
“No idea.” Natalia shrugs. “Anyway, until your brothers are back, you'll be staying with Nikolai and Anoushka. We're all spending tonight there too! We thought we could have a good old reunion to welcome you home.”
“That sounds great,” I say gleefully. I’ve always loved Nikolai, and my cousin-in-law Anoushka is an absolute riot. Not to mention, their house has an open-door policy that allows the entire family to come and go often, and I’ve been dying to see all my little nieces and nephews.
“Will your husbands be joining?” I ask. “And the kids?”
“Yes, Vladimir and Denis will be there,” Natalia says. “Along with everyone else who's in town. But we thought we could leave the kids out of it.”
“School night, you know.” Sofia shrugs.
I watch my sisters with pride. There was a time once when we’d hole up with endless bottles of wine and not give a damn about the hangover the next day. Now, they are managing their own households, families, work, and children.
How far they’ve come since getting married.
A familiar guilt comes coursing back to me. Unlike me, who has evaded any and all responsibility toward family, they've both married into the powerful Zolotov family, strengthening the alliance between us.
“I'm sorry I missed your weddings,” I say with a sigh. “Both of you deserved to have me there.”
Sofia reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You sent beautiful gifts and called us both. We understand. You were halfway across the world.”
Do they, though? I look out the window at the city that was once my home, but now feels like an entirely different world. Did anyone really understand why I suddenly needed to disappear after college? I'm not sure I fully understand it myself.
I just knew that if I didn't go then, I might never have the chance again.
I feel a pang of something like homesickness, though I'm technically coming home. Maybe it's for the anonymous girl I was on those streets of Asia. I was just Lilibeth. No one there even knew what the name Orlov meant.
“So tell us everything,” Natalia demands, pulling me back into the present. “The real stuff, not the censored version you'd tell Nikolai.”
I laugh, grateful for the distraction from my thoughts. “Well, there was this guy in Amsterdam—”
“I knew it!” Sofia claps her hands. “Foreign fling!”
“Several flings, actually,” I admit, enjoying their scandalized expressions. “What? You think I spent two years in celibacy?”
“Details. Now.” Natalia leans forward, eyes gleaming.
I tell them about Marcel, the French chef I met in Thailand, and Stefan, the German photographer in Greece who took me on the worst date of my life, one I skipped out on within an hour. I leave out others—some stories are just for me. As wetalk and laugh, the heaviness in my chest begins to lift. This is what I missed most: familial belonging.
But behind the laughter, the current of guilt still runs deep. While I was finding myself on beaches and hiking up mountains, my cousins and brothers were here, shouldering responsibilities and keeping our family business running. They gave me precious time and freedom, while asking nothing in return except the occasional proof of life.
Now it's time to repay that debt. I’m not the same girl I was years ago, overwhelmed by the idea of taking responsibility. After all I’ve seen, the stories I’ve heard, the lonely people I’ve met along the way, I understand just how lucky I am to have a family willing to sacrifice for me. Now, I want nothing more than to help my family in whatever way necessary to keep us strong. What we share is worth working hard to preserve.
The car slows as we turn into a gated driveway, and I see the old crew of guards waving their hellos with smiling faces. Nikolai's mansion appears through the trees.
“God, I’d forgotten how huge this place was,” I murmur, staring out of the window at the fountains, the sweeping gardens, the double-storied villa.
“Home sweet home,” Sofia says as we exit the car. I reach for my suitcases, but remember then that there’s staff here to do stuff like that. What a luxury after dragging my own luggage across the world.
The front door opens, and Anoushka emerges, looking elegant as always.
“Lilibeth,” she says warmly, opening her arms for a hug. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you for having me,” I say.
“Don't be silly. This is your home. The children have been asking when their Aunty Beth will be here for days now,” she ushers us inside. “I’ve set you up in the room next to the library. Go rest, shower, or do whatever you need. We’ll catch up in the evening when everyone’s here.”
“Thank you.” I squeeze her hand and thank my cousins one more time for their hospitality before heading upstairs. After all those interconnecting flights, I could certainly use a bath and a nap.
