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I’m already broken, but those pieces fracture into tinier and tinier shards until I’m unable to hold it all in.
Until I’m unable to stop the tears from streaming down my face.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. This isn’t how any of it was supposed to be. I was supposed to be here, right here, right fucking here, soothing away Daphne’s pain and coaching her through her breathing as we welcomed our daughter into this world.
I was supposed to hear the first cries. To see the first breaths.
I was supposed to be the first face she saw when she first opened her eyes.
I was supposed to name her. To breathe blessings upon her.
I lost… everything.
I’m not a man who sheds tears over anyone or anything. But now that I’ve started crying, I can’t fucking stop. I’m too wrapped up in grief over losing something I never knew I wanted so fucking bad. I’m enraged at the people who tore apart a moment in time I’ll never be able to get back.
And I’m so overwhelmed with joy… with awe… at Tatyanna. My Tatyanna. My Taty.
She wriggles in her blankets, squinting and squirming and cooing as she does. I don’t know what she wants. Fuck, am I ever going to know what she wants? Am I destined to be a terrible father?
No. Don’t go there. You can do this.
Taty squirms even more. I’m about to let my daughter know that she’s stuck in there for good when she decides it’s her turn to surprise me—by working her little arm free.
And then placing that impossibly small hand on my face.
“Malen’kiy solovey,” I murmur as she keeps cooing again and again.
My little songbird.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper before pressing another kiss to her downy brow. Her hair is so soft, so dark and lovely. It’s already beginning to curl at the ends. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to be here. More than anything. But I was held up. Literally, I swear, I was held up in cuffs and I just… I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. Ever. I’m always going to be here for you. I’m always going to protect you. I’m always going to be by your side, and on your side. I swear to you, Tatyanna, I’m always going to take care of you.”
“What about Daphne?”
Mak’s voice startles me, even as low as it is. He gives me a moment to compose myself before he finishes walking back into the room. In his hand is a large drink, which he walks over and hands to me.
I don’t miss the way he regards me. It’s not a look I ever thought I’d receive from my own brother. Like he doesn’t trust me, or worse—he’s disappointed in me.
That makes two of us.
“Daphne is mine. Tatyanna is mine.” I take the drink and inwardly thank him for anticipating my basic needs when I’ve all but neglected them. Goddamn, I was thirsty. “This is my family. I protect my family.”
He wisely takes a few steps back before asking the next question. “Even from yourself? Even after everything?”
I should be enraged at the gall. At the implication. But honestly, right now, I’m too fucking drained to keep up the pakhan front. Right now, I just need to be his brother.
“Even from me,” I agree. “Even after everything.”
“You were pretty fucking pissed.”
“I was pretty fucking stupid.”
He sighs and, for once in his whole damn life, he doesn’t crack a joke.
Sofi bursts in carrying several bags of food with one hand and a tray of drinks with the other. “I have no idea what Daphne’s gonna want, but I’m guessing ‘everything’ would be her answer after that ordeal. Holy shit, I’ve never appreciated birth control more.”
I feel a swell of pride in my chest. “She did good?”
“Fucking—I mean, freaking incredible.” Sofi blushes and wiggles a little wave to her baby niece, then grabs a burger from a bag and sets it on the end table next to me. “This woman is a warrior. No drugs, no stirrups, not even the tub. Just held on for dear life and war-cried her way through the worst of it. I’ll tell you what—I’d think twice before pissing her off.”
