Page 87 of Porcelain Vows

My voice catches slightly as I turn the baby toward her. Something about this moment— standing before Aleksei’s mother, a woman who’s endured unimaginable suffering, who shares my daughter’s blood— makes my chest tighten with unexpected emotion. I’ve imagined this meeting since I learned of her existence, yet nothing prepared me for the gentle wisdom in her eyes or how much Aleksei’s intensity echoes in her face, softened by decades of patience.

Maria stops before me, her eyes taking in every detail of my face before moving to the sleeping baby. Without hesitation, she reaches out and gently touches my cheek, her palm warm against my skin.

“My child,” she says simply, the endearment breaking through emotional barriers I didn’t know I’d constructed. “May I?”

I understand immediately what she’s asking. With careful movements, I transfer Polina into her waiting arms. Maria accepts the sleeping baby with infinite gentleness, cradling her with the confidence that comes only from having held children of her own.

“She has Aleksei’s eyes,” Maria murmurs, studying Polina’s sleeping face. “But your mouth, I think. Beautiful.” She looks up at me with a smile that transforms her face, erasing years of hardship. “Thank you for this precious gift.”

The sincerity in her voice brings unexpected tears to my eyes. I’d forgotten how it felt to be under a mother’s gaze— to be seen fully but loved completely. My own mother’s death left a void that even Polina’s birth couldn’t entirely fill— theabsence of maternal wisdom, of generational connection. These past weeks since Polina’s birth should have been shared with my mother.

I swallow hard and nod silently, at loss for words.

Bobik wheels closer, eager to be part of the moment. “She looks like me when I was a baby,” he announces proudly. “Papashowed me pictures.”

Maria laughs softly, the sound bringing a soft smile to Aleksei’s face as he watches from the doorway.

“Come here, my dear,” she says to Bobik, somehow managing to kneel again while still holding Polina securely.

The image before me— Maria embracing Bobik with one arm while cradling Polina— creates a lump in my throat. Three generations connected in a single embrace, the family circle expanding to include this woman who carries herself with quiet dignity despite all she’s endured.

“I have waited so long for this,” Maria whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “To hold my grandchildren. To see my family whole.”

I glance at Aleksei, finding his eyes already on me. Something in his expression, a vulnerability— so rare, so unguarded— tells me everything about what this moment means to him. This is more than a reunion; it’s the healing of a wound that has shaped his entire adult life.

“Would you like some tea?” I ask Maria as she rises again, still holding Polina. “Bobik and I were just discussing wormholes and quantum physics.”

“Were you now?” Maria’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “My father was a physicist, you know. Perhaps some of his knowledge has skipped a generation to you, Bobik.”

Bobik’s face lights up. “Really? What kind of physics did he study?”

As Maria settles into a chair with Polina, answering Bobik’s eager questions, I move to stand beside Aleksei in the doorway.

“She’s wonderful,” I whisper, watching Maria interact with the children as if she’s known them their entire lives.

“Da,” he agrees simply, his voice rough with emotion. “She always has been.”

Looking at Maria with the children, I realize what we’d all been missing: the glue that holds families together across generations. The wisdom that comes from having seen life from multiple perspectives. The unconditional love that only seems to deepen with age.

Maria glances up, catching my eye with a warm smile that feels like a promise— of support, of understanding, of the maternal guidance I’ve been missing since my own mother’s death.

“Come sit with us, Stella,” she says, patting the space beside her. “Tell me about yourself. I want to know everything about the woman who has given my son such a beautiful daughter.”

As I join them, the circle closing around me, I feel something shift inside— a sense of belonging I haven’t experienced since before my parents’ deaths. Maria’s presencefills a void I hadn’t fully acknowledged, offering a connection to maternal wisdom I thought was lost forever.

In this moment, surrounded by Aleksei’s family— our family— I understand that bonds can form across blood lines, across tragedies, across time itself. That sometimes, the family we need finds us when we least expect it.

Maria reaches for my hand, squeezing it gently as Bobik continues his enthusiastic explanation of quantum entanglement. Her touch communicates volumes— acceptance, understanding, support. Mother to mother. Woman to woman.

And for the first time since learning the truth about my parents’ deaths, I feel the possibility of a future where love and forgiveness might coexist with grief and loss.

Where this complicated, broken, healing family might actually become whole.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Stella

Over the past week, I’ve found myself drawn to the quiet moments between Maria and Polina.

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