Page 13 of The Heat of Us

I looked at the screen and saw a gritty crime drama playing. “Why are you watching this? None of these guys are your type,” I said, falsely cheerful as I helped her onto her feet.

She tsked. “The one with the moustache is ok.”

“You always think the one with the moustache is ok, babulya,” I told her dryly. “We have to do something about your standards.”

She reached for her walker but I offered her my arm instead. We shuffled together down the corridor and she waved me off once we got to the bathroom door. My temper roiled and I fought to keep the wild, gnashing sensation at bay.

Don’t make it worse.

My father was in the kitchen when we entered. I ignored him, set a water glass in front of my grandma and quickly got to preparing something simple for us. I was relieved to find one last portion of borscht in the freezer.

Mental note: batch cook more this weekend.

“Are you making enough for all of us, son?”

The fucker always had something to say.

Always looking for something to take.

“If there’s some left after grandma’s had enough you can have it,” I replied shortly.

I’d figure something else out for myself.

Instead of replying, Dad simply snorted.

I set a bowl down in front of my grandma and ladled a dollop of sour cream on top. “Make sure you wait so it doesn’t burn you,” I said warningly.

“Alyosha, this is not my first time eating borscht,” she said primly. But I was thankful for the twinkle in her eye.

There were times these days where it did feel like it was her first time eating her favourite meal. Staring at the spoon like she’d never seen one before.

It wasn’t the only incident like that if I was being honest with myself.

I was pursuing nursing part-time while being a caregiver for my grandma. It had started with driving her to appointments. Now she needed help getting around the house.

Her waning independence and reliance on me had crept up on us steadily. It felt like I was running against the clock. Eventually nothing I did would be enough. It was stupid, really. I couldn’t fix whatever was happening to her.

But I had to feel like I was doing something.

I fit 101 Riverside shifts around my classes and studied anatomy textbooks under my desk. I wished I could be full-time but Dad needed me to contribute to the household expenses.

Like a man.

I did not ever get to see the person grandma told me stories about.

I only knew the widower who lost his omega giving birth to their son.

Even though the unfairness of it burned, I poured the remainder of the borscht into a second bowl and set it in front of my father. He began eating without so much a glance my way, reminding me of a corpulent boar slurping at a trough.

I opened the cupboards, even though I knew I wouldn’t find anything since I hadn’t been able to get to the supermarket.

“You gonna go to the shop soon?” Dad asked, not even bothering to stop eating to talk.

“Literally just got home from work but sure, I’ll go,” I bit back before I could stop myself. “It’s not like there’s someone here who clocks off at 3pm and could’ve gone himself.”

He had me pinned against the cupboard in seconds, my head knocking hard against the cheap wood.

Should’ve fucking kept your mouth shut.

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