“Emiliya knows. Maksim told her last night, too.” I have to close my eyes against the unexpected wave of betrayal.
Am I the last one to find out?
I choke on a sob, but he continues on, giving me only enough time to absorb his words.
“It was… a mess. There was no way to avoid cops getting involved. Daniil’s at the morgue. You and Mila can work together on the funeral arrangements, but he probably had something organized in his will, so you won’t have to work from scratch. They’ll release his body when they’re done with their investigation.”
“How long will that take?”
He shrugs. “Depends. They’ll probably try to drag it out because of who he worked with, but they can’t keep him forever.And I’ll do what I can to grease their wheels and hurry things along.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, twisting my wedding ring around my finger.
“You only have to worry about taking care of you and Niko, alright? You’ll tell him what happened. And, yeah, it’s gonna suck. A lot. But you’ll get through it.” A muscle in his jaw ticks before he starts washing the dishes, turning the tap to boiling hot, steam rising around him. “You’re strong, and you’ll both be alright. It just might take a while.”
Even though his back is to me, I shake my head. I don’t believe that, and I doubt he does, either. If I had to guess, he’s just saying anything he can think of to stop me from falling apart at the seams.
He did more than enough trying to look after me last night. I won’t saddle him with more responsibility. I’ll wait until I’m alone again to have my break-down. I can’t afford to sit around and feel sorry for myself. In this world, my grief will become a weakness that will make me, and by extension Niko, vulnerable.
“Thank you for looking after Niko this morning.” I gather my plate, regretfully scraping it into the trash. I appreciate that he tried, but the effort was wasted. “I’m sure you have plenty of things to do, and I appreciate you taking the time to make breakfast for us.” I stand next to him, hoping he’ll step out of the way so I can take over, but he’s like a brick wall as he glares at my empty plate.
“Stop being stubborn and let me help you,” he grunts, taking the plate away from me as he steps away from the sink. Withoutanother word, he opens the microwave and pulls out another plate of pancakes, shoving it toward me. “Sit down and eat.”
My shoulders slump, and the look in his eyes has some of my newfound fight fleeing without protest.
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know.” He nods. “But it won’t hurt to have some help, will it?”
I don’t want his help. I don’t want anyone’s help. I don’t want to risk learning to rely on anyone, because then I’ll be in an even worse position when they leave me high and dry.
But I’m not going to win this fight. Not today, anyway. So, I take the food and sit down, forcing myself to eat even if it tastes like ash.
Chapter 7
Blair
“Ihate 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 tobe 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.
