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Ashley blushed and waved her hand. “Oh, please. I'm nowhere near that level,” she replied modestly. “But I do love cooking. It's been my hobby since I was a kid.”
I became curious about the private lore of my wife and leaned closer. “Really? Tell me about it. What made you so passionate about cooking??”
A nostalgic smile graced her lips as she told her story. “I’m not sure. I was always drawn to the kitchen. I used to sneak into the kitchen to secretly watch the cooks of the house at work.”
She sighed. “I loved the way different ingredients could come together to create a dish, even ones that seemed they wouldn’t fit. Cooking became my escape, my way of expressing myself.”
A sudden pain ran through my chest as her expression changed. “You know, my father always wanted me to focus on extracurricular activities like horseback riding and self defense. He said it would look better on my resume. But deep down … I would have preferred to try culinary school. Anyway, later, with business school, I didn't have time for anything else. My father wanted me to enter the corporate world, and I was good with numbers, so that was it.”
I nodded, feeling a heavy, painful connection to her story. “It’s hard to find our own way in our line of business, especially when it doesn't align with what others expect of us.”
My voice flattened. “The fact that you have recognized something you like for yourself, sets you apart from the rest of us.”
Ashley's eyes met mine, and in that moment, it felt as if there was a silent understanding between us. Bound by the expectations placed on us, it was a bond that brought us closer together.
I felt … I could talk to Ashley more about myself.
The lonely weight of my burdened past pressed on my lips, begging me to share, and my mind convinced me that the woman before me, my wife, was capable of sharing my pain.
I looked into her eyes and searched for the strength to dive into the depths of my memories. I cleared my throat and began, “There’s something I've never talked to anyone about. It’s the reason why I was never able to realize what I wanted for myself the way you did. It shaped me completely and utterly.”
I sighed as I let it out. “When my father was killed ... I was there. I saw it happen.”
The words hung heavy in the air, and I could see the worry in Ashley's eyes. She reached out and put her hand on mine.
Her gaze never left mine, the deep blue beams, a silent assurance that she was there to listen, to understand.
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as I replayed the pain and grief that had haunted me for years. “It was a night of chaos,” I continued, my voice dropping below a whisper. “The sound of gunshots pierced the air and I rushed to the scene, hoping to save him.”
My heart ached as I recalled the scene unfolding before me. “But it was too late.” I admitted for the first time, my voice filled with anguish, “I saw him lying there, bleeding ... and there was nothing I could do to save him. Maksim had to drag me away.”
Fighting the lump in my throat and swallowing hard, I regained my composure when I felt Ashley's comforting presence beside me. She stood next to me, craddled my head to her body, rested her chin on my head and offered me her silent support while I bared my soul.
“The pain still lingers,” I admitted, a mixture of sadness and longing in my voice. “I often ask myself whether I could have done something differently, whether I could have been stronger or faster, …”
“Nik…”
Ashley's voice was soft and compassionate when she finally spoke, her words like a balm to my wounded soul. “Nik, it wasn't your fault. You were just a little boy. You couldn't have changed what happened.”
“Since then, I have sworn to protect those close to me with my life. And there’s nothing I would change. You just must accept that, malyshka.”
I stood up, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable by the way she held me. The last thing I wanted from her was pity. Our gazes locked, and our eyes were filled with silent understanding.
But then Ashley unexpectedly pulled me into a warm, tight hug. For the first moment, I couldn’t move. My whole body froze in shock at her heartfelt gesture. My arms remained lifeless at my sides. I didn’t want to push her away, but I feared that hugging her would trigger a reaction from my eyes that hadn't occurred in decades.
Even though I didn't respond, Ashley didn’t let go. Her head rested on my shoulder, and she whispered softly and lovingly, “Oh Nik, you've been through so much. Your struggles, your pain ... they're unimaginable.”
Her eyes pierced mine with fierceness as she raised her head. “But please know that your experiences don't diminish your chance of finding what makes you happy too. It’s not too late, Nik. We've both been raised to be loyal and focused on the business, but we're our own people too.”
Her words bore deep into my soul.
But she did not yet understand life in Bratva to its full extent. There was no life ‘outside’ except taking care of the family. And Ashley and our child would make me happy. They would be my ‘other life’ apart from the violence, the deaths, and the power struggles.
I felt a tingle in my eyes as my head replayed her heartfelt words. A woman, all on her own, and here she was, unwrapping the layers of my soul, gently reminding me that I was more than the darkness that haunted me. I could cry, but I’m incapable of doing so.
Her voice conveyed a sense of unwavering support and unwavering belief in me. “You don't have to be defined by expectations or the shadows of your past. You alone have the power to choose your own destiny, my Nikolai.”
My Nikolai.
