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“Lia?” she says.
Memories stab at me, demons in my mind, the look on her face, the eyes that just stared and stared and stared.
“It’s okay,” Ania says after a pause. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t push.”
I go to the bar with our drinks and sit beside her. “It’s fine. I just don’t like thinking about the past. It does no good. I have to keep moving forward and take care of myself.” I look over at the tall, large, shiny refrigerator. It probably costs more than a year of my rent. “Which I’m clearly doing a great job with.”
“You’re safe,” Ania says. “Dimitri won’t let anything happen to you. He…”
“What?” I urge, my heartbeat fluttering as I relive the steaminess, the gunfight.
“He seems different,” Ania says. “This is a crazy time for the Sokolov brothers, that’s for sure.”
“Is Dimitri’s brother here?”
“In the other house,” Ania says. “Working on his computer stuff as usual.”
“Are you okay, Ania?” I say after a pause.
“What? Why?”
Because you won’t look at me,but I don’t want to sound like I’m accusing her. “Your dad…”
Ania shakes her head slowly. “It’s weird. I’ve cried, but I don’t know…”
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I won’t judge. I know all about being confused when it comes to dead parents; believe me.”
She gives me a searching look but doesn’t ask a follow-up question, though part of me suspects she wants to. “Dad was the only parent I had or knew, anyway. My mom was a sex worker, you know? She didn’t want me, so Dad took me in. He raised me. Well, the servants raised me. I don’t think he ever loved me. Sorry, I’m rambling.”
“No,” I say quickly. “It’s weirdly comforting not to think about myself for a change.”
Ania looks up fleetingly before quickly staring down into her cocoa. “I’m not going to throw a pity party about it. He really never loved anybody.Ilovedhim, especially as a kid, but he didn’t care, so it was hard formeto keep caring.”
“You don’t have to feel guilty,” I say.
“It’s that obvious, huh?”
“Like I said…”
“Yeah, you know how I feel.”
We sit quietly for a minute, and Ania says, “So, how long have you and Dimitri been together?”
“I don’t know if we’retogether,” I say, but it feels like a betrayal, and I’m devaluing everything we’ve shared: the steaminess, the painting, thelies. “I didn’t even know he was the boss of the Bratva until a few hours ago. I didn’t even know what the Bratvawas, honestly.”
“That’s funny.”
“Is it?”
“I’ve been surrounded by the Bratva life for as long as I can remember. It must be nice not to have any clue about it.”
“Maybe, until the shooting started.”
Ania winces. “I guess that can be a bit of a buzzkill, right?”
“Yeah, just a bit.”
Another pause. There’s an upside to how Ania looks down all the time. It puts less pressure on the conversation and allows us to sit here comfortably until we’re ready to speak. I sip the strong coffee, feeling the caffeine rush through my system.
