Page 32 of Toxic Salvation
“I’m not a baby.” Luka’s chin juts out defiantly. “I know when something bad is happening.”
Kovan runs his uninjured hand through his hair. “This isn’t exactly bad news. It’s just… complicated.”
I rest my hand on Luka’s shoulder. “If it concerns him, maybe you should tell him the truth. He’s right—he’s not a baby.”
Kovan’s gaze flicks to mine, and I can see him weighing his next move. For a moment, I expect him to dismiss my input entirely. Instead, he exhales slowly and gestures toward the leather sofa.
“Sit down,malysh. We need to talk.”
“I’ll give you two some privacy,” I start to say, but Kovan shakes his head.
“Stay. This affects you, too.”
My stomach rumbles. Nothing good ever starts with those words.
Luka takes my hand as we settle onto the sofa. Kovan perches on the edge of the coffee table facing us, his forearms braced against his knees. Up close, I can see the exhaustion around his eyes.
“It’s about your mother,” he begins.
Luka’s grip on my hand tightens immediately. “I thought she was in jail.”
“She was. But Ihor posted her bail last week. They’ve petitioned the court to reinstate her visitation rights.” Kovan pauses. “And… the judge granted their request.”
“What?” he rasps. “No! I don’t want to see her.”
“I know you don’t. And I fought it as hard as I could. But the court believes children benefit from contact with both parents, even when—” He stops himself.
“Even when what?” Luka presses.
“Even when those parents don’t deserve you.”
Luka’s face crumples. “She doesn’t want to see me anyway. She’s always angry when I’m around. Always yelling or telling me I’m doing something wrong.”
Every protective instinct I have screams at me to say something, to comfort him, to rage about the injustice of forcing a child to spend time with someone who makes him feel worthless.
But this conversation belongs to Kovan and Luka. I need to let them have it.
“You’re right,” Kovan says simply. “You do deserve better. But I’m not going to let you face her alone. The visits are supervised—once every two weeks, one hour maximum. Either Pavel, Osip, or I will be there the entire time.”
“What about Vesper?” Luka asks, squeezing my hand tighter.
“Vesper has a lot going on right now.”
“But you’ll be here when I get back, right?” Luka turns to me, his eyes huge with panic. “You won’t disappear again? You didn’t even say goodbye last time. What if you leave and never come back?”
It would be so easy to tell him the truth—that his uncle threw me out, that I wasn’t the one who chose to leave. But starting this new arrangement by throwing Kovan under the bus feels wrong, no matter how much he might deserve it.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye properly,” I tell him. “That was my mistake. But this time is different. I’m not going anywhere.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Kovan adds. “I can promise you that.”
Luka looks between us, chewing his bottom lip. “I still don’t want to see Mama.”
“Come here, Luka.”
The boy doesn’t hesitate. He throws himself into Kovan’s arms, and Kovan holds him tight, one large hand rubbing slow circles on his back. The tenderness in the gesture makes me ache with longing—not just for what we used to have, but for what I wish we could givethischild.
I need to move. To give them space. To put some distance between myself and the impossible pull I still feel toward Kovan.
