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I tightened my hand on my glass. “What do you know? He’s not as big a dick as I remembered.”

For a while, we did what brothers do when they’d been estranged for years. We talked shit. About the food at the shelter we volunteered at earlier. About the old lady who’d slapped my hand because she thought I was stealing bread. About Zasha almost tripping over a toddler. But eventually the laughter faded, and silence stretched between us. He stared at his beer bottle, rotating it between his palms.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

The words landed like a weight on the table.

“For leaving. For disappearing. For choosing Yelena over you.”

“She’s your wife,” I said. “And a good one too. Best you could’ve picked. I don’t blame you.”

“Yes, she’s all that, but you were hurt.”

I didn’t deny it because we were finally being honest.

“When I left,” he said, “I thought you’d hate me. I thought… you’d cut me off.”

“Nah, I was too busy feeling guilty for breaking your arm. That was a dick move. I was just scared that if you didn’t leave the Zhukovsky girl alone, I’d lose you. Better a broken arm than a coffin.”

His jaw tightened. “I get it.”

“But I never stopped trying to find you.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re my brother,” I said simply. “I’ll always want to keep you safe, and when I don’t know where you are, I can’t do that, and it drives me crazy.”

His eyes glistened as he nodded. “And the Orlovs?”

I leaned back. “Some defected. Some died. Some… needed to die.”

He swallowed. “Is it safe? Are you safe?”

He knew more than anyone else how much opposition I faced when I took over.

“As safe as a pakhan can be.” I waved off the concern. “I don’t need you worrying.”

“I do worry.” He frowned. “I’ve thought of… maybe coming back once or twice. Helping you.”

“That’s dangerous. And stupid. You got out.”

“Yeah.” He looked down at his hands. “But that was before Yelena got pregnant. Now it’s too much of a risk. I have to keep my girls safe.”

“Girls.” I sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t know anything about helping to raise girls.”

He nodded, smiling. “I don’t know anything either, but I think we’ll do just fine. Yelena will be a great mother.”

I reached across the table and gripped his hand. “Zasha, I was wrong about her, and I’m sorry I went to extremes to keep you apart. She’s perfect for you, and I can see how much she loves you. That kind of love is rare, and when it happens, you should hold on to it.”

For a moment, I had to look away because the truth hit too close to home. What was I going to do about Stas? Would we never tell the kids? What kind of relationship could we have in secret? How long would it be before either of us cracked? I hadn’t kept a secret relationship since I was in my teens.

“What about you?” Zasha asked.

“What?”

“Isn’t there anyone special?”

I opened my mouth to lie, but the words refused to come. It felt wrong to think of Stas as anything else but special. Being with him was different. He knew I was a giant asshole, and it didn’t change how much he wanted me. I knew he could be boring and uncompromising, but his qualities seemed to balance out my personality.