“I’m more of a percentages gal,” I reply, bopping her nose gently with my fingers. “And this is a crazy amount of watermelons. Do you have any idea how much it would weigh to cart fifteen of them around?”
“More than Daddy?”
“Definitely more than Daddy,” I chuckle.
Suddenly the air warms behind me and a tingle rushes like fingertips trailing down my spine. Tipping my head backward, my heart jumps as my eyes connect with Fyodor’s above me. His handsome face twitches into a warm smile.
“How many watermelons do I weigh, exactly?” he asks.
“Daddy!” Dariya leaps up and throws herself at him. He catches her swiftly with one arm and hauls her up into a hug while her squeals of laughter soak into the pages of all the books scattered around us.
“I don’t know.” Closing the math book, I swivel on my chair to face him. “Care to put it to the test?”
His eyes glint with warmth, then he buries his face against Dariya’s and kisses her repeatedly. “Sadly, I don’t have time. I have to go away for a few days.”
Dariya stiffens in his arms and pulls back. “Why?” she demands.
“Work.” He kisses her nose and then sets her down back at the table.
“But I don’t want you to leave,” she whines, her large eyes turning to glass.
“I know, baby. But it won’t be for long, I promise. Naomi will take great care of you.” Fyodor’s tone is the warmest I’ve ever heard, a soft voice reserved only for his daughter.
“Stupid,” Dariya mutters under her breath, and she stubbornly turns back to her homework.
Rising at Fyodor’s subtle head nod, I move a few feet away with him while concern churns warm in my gut.
“Is everything okay?”
Fyodor nods. “Yes. Just keep an eye on her, please.”
“I always do.”
His eyes dance across my face and warmth seeps into my cheeks at his attention. “So, you’re leaving me here with Zasha?”
“What I might learn from this,” he says, his brows pinching together. “Might help both of us.”
“Oh?” The mystery has me curious but given everything else that’s happened, it’s probably best I remain in the dark.
“Trust me,” Fyodor says, and my heart lifts.
“I do.” One thing is certain above all else; Fyodor wouldn’t leave his child here with an enemy under his roof unless he had no other choice. Plus, she’s well-protected.
Daniil appears through the doorway, coming into view when Fyodor steps away back to his daughter. Ever the watchful guard, he lingers near one of the bookshelves as Fyodor says goodbye. When he brushes past me, his hand briefly presses against the small of my back and the warmth remains as he heads out. A quiet conversation happens quickly between Fyodor and Daniil, then he leaves.
“When will he be back?” Dariya stares up at me, eyes filled with unshed tears. Brushing her hair back from her forehead, I give her my strongest smile.
“Before you know it. I promise.”
Daniil stays with us until bedtime, providing no aid to the math problem we are stuck on. Eventually, I discard it in favor of reading Dariya her favorite story about the beanstalk, and then it’s time for bed. Just as I bundle her out of a shower and squeeze her into fresh blue pajamas, my phone bleeps to life in my back pocket.
My instinct tells me to ignore it since the only person who ever contacts me now is my mother. I haven’t called her or spoken to her since the day at the cafe, and her anger is like the simmering water inside a pressure cooker. The longer I wait, the more explosive it will be.
“In you get.” Smiling at Dariya, I hold the sheets up for her to scoot underneath as my phone vibrates again.
Fuck. I can’t ignore it.
Giving in, I reach for my phone with the intent of turning it off, but the message on the screen halts me completely.