Page 132 of Nine Months to Bear
“Because I’m an idiot.”
“No.” A new voice cuts through the kitchen. “Because you see what he refuses to.”
Elena Safonova stands in the doorway, silver hair gleaming in the early morning light. She looks at me and smiles in sympathy. “It’s a tough day, isn’t it? I can see it on your face.” She looks at Cami. “You, the loud one. Out.”
Camille looks ready to argue, but something in Elena’s face stops her. She squeezes my shoulder. “Call me later, okay?”
When we’re alone, Elena pours herself tea from a pot I hadn’t noticed brewing. “Sit.”
I sit.
“You’re pregnant.” It’s not a question.
“I don’t know.”
“You know.” She sips her tea. “Women always know. The body tells truths the mind tries to deny.”
“It’s too early to be certain,” I insist.
“Certainty is overrated. Tell me, what did my grandson say to make you cry?”
“I haven’t been crying.”
“No? Then the redness around your eyes is allergies?”
I trace the marble counter’s veining. “He reminded me what I am to him.”
“Ah.” Elena nods. “He’s scared.”
“Stefan Safonov doesn’t get scared.”
“Stefan Safonov is terrified every moment of every day,” she corrects. “He hides it well. But underneath is a boy who watched his father destroyed by love.”
“His father killed himself.”
“His father wasmurdered,” she says. “By his mother. For money and power and a younger man’s bed.” Elena’s eyes glisten.
My stomach turns, and this time, it’s not morning sickness.
“He swore he’d never be his father,” Babushka continues. “Never let anyone close enough to destroy him. Then you arrived.”
“I’m hardly a threat to Stefan.”
“No?” Elena laughs, but it’s sad. “You think he bringseverywoman to his grandmother’s house? You think he looks at them the way he looks at you when you’re not watching? No. Of course not. Because he doesn’t love them. He lovesyou.”
“He doesn’t?—”
“Yes,malyshka,he does.” Elena reaches across the counter and covers my hand with hers. Her skin is paper-thin but warm. “There’s a man beneath all the scars, my love. A damaged man, certainly. A difficult man, absolutely. But a man, same as any other.” She squeezes gently. “The question is whether you’re strong enough to wait for him to see it himself.”
I let my forehead come to rest on the cool counter surface. “I’m so tired of being strong.”
“Then be tired!” she suggests. “Be angry. Be hurt. Be all of the things. But don’t give up. Not yet.”
“Why do you care what I do? It’s not like he needs me.”
She shakes her head. “Everyone needs someone. Even monsters. Maybe even especially monsters.” She stands, joints creaking. “He’ll come around. Men always do, once they realize what they’ve lost. The smart ones apologize and the proud ones double down. Stefan… Well, Stefan will probably do something stupidly dramatic that he thinks is romantic but is actually concerning, if I had to guess.”
Despite everything, I laugh. “That sounds about right.”
