Page 32 of Snowflakes and Bloodstains
Sofia handed him a mug without ceremony. “You look tired,” she said as her brows arched. “Where were you?”
“Chicago,” he replied with a grin. “Konstantin runs a tight ship.” Then he turned to me. "He wants me with him. Permanent.”
When he paused with his mouth open, I felt the shift immediately. The way pieces on the board moved without sound.
“And you,” Dima added as his eyes locked with mine, “he wants you too.”
The old answer rose easily. No. This is my territory. This is my responsibility. But then Sofia met my eyes over the rim of her cup as she took a sip. When she lowered it and swallowed, the corner of her mouth kicked up.
“Maybe,” she murmured gently, “it wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
I turned to fully face her, surprised.
She shrugged one slender shoulder.
“A new start,” she continued. “Somewhere fresh. Different. Somewhere our son can grow up without ghosts on every corner.”
Dima watched us carefully, understanding more than he let on. “Chicago isn’t clean,” he said. “But it’s… rebuilding.”
I looked down at my son. At the tiny fist curled into my shirt like it belonged there. For the first time in my life, loyalty didn’t feel like a chain. It felt like a choice made freely and without pressure.
“I’ll think about it,” I finally conceded.
Dima nodded. “That’s all Konstantin asked.”
We visited for a while until Misha began to fuss. Sofia took him to feed him and change him while Dima and I discussed the possibility. He was leaving in two days after he gathered what he wanted to bring with him. After we said our goodbyes, the house settled again into a peaceful quiet. Sofia crossed the room and rested her head against my shoulder, her hand covering our son’s back.
“You don’t have to decide today,” she whispered.
“I know.”
She smiled softly as she tilted her head back and looked up at me. “But you could.”
Outside, leaves skittered along the sidewalk. Somewhere, a child laughed. Somewhere else, a car honked.
I kissed the top of my son’s head, then Sofia’s.
For the first time, the future didn’t feel like something I had to merely survive.
It felt like something filled with hope.
