Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“How was the adjustment?” Samuil asks. “Be honest.”
I pick at the hem of my sweater. “It was harder than I expected,” I admit. “I miss Nikolai all day long, but I love being with my class. They’re such good kids.”
Samuil’s arm slips around my waist, anchoring me gently.
“I forgot how good it feels to make a difference. To see kids respond to structure and kindness. To show them the world can be safe.”
Samuil bends his head slightly, his breath brushing my temple. “I’m proud of you,” he murmurs into my hair. “Those kids are so lucky to have you as their teacher.”
The words sink into me slowly and warmly. They wrap around me like a cozy blanket, making me feel safe and loved.
“And I’m glad,” he adds quietly, “that you chose something for yourself.”
“I am too,” I whisper.
Nikolai, apparently sensing this moment might be too quiet, slaps Samuil’s cheek with his tiny palm and squeals triumphantly.
“He’s strong,” Samuil says, eyes wide in mock seriousness. “Very strong. He’ll outrun us both by the time he’s five.”
“Speak for yourself.”
He smirks at me. “Molly, you tripped over a stuffed giraffe this morning.”
“It was a tactical misstep.”
“It squeaked when you fell.”
“It surprised me!”
Nikolai giggles at our bickering, grabbing Samuil’s nose and then my hair as if trying to participate in the conversation.
Samuil carefully pries his fingers free.
“Let’s not attack Mama’s hair, hmm? She worked hard on that.”
Nikolai blows a raspberry in response.
“Well,” I say thoughtfully, “he might not be able to talk yet, but he certainly has strong opinions.”
Samuil laughs quietly. “Mama,” he says suddenly, tapping Nikolai’s nose. “Say Mama.”
“Da-da-da,” Nikolai says immediately, thrilled with himself.
“No,” Samuil corrects, stern in the playful way only he can be. “We practiced this. Mama.”
Nikolai sticks his fist in his mouth.
Samuil sighs. “He’s mocking me.”
“He is,” I agree. “And I support it fully.”
“That’s betrayal.”
“Parental delegation.”
“We’ll see who he loves more when he’s older.”
“He already loves me more.”
“Of course he does.” Samuil smiles. “You’re the most lovable person I know.”
We grin at each other, and something soft flutters in my chest.
Samuil has taken to fatherhood like a fish to water. He’s a natural at it, and he insists on being just as involved in Nikolai’s care as I am. Since we switched to bottle-feeding, Samuil wakes up at night so I can be rested for school. He changes just as many diapers as I do, and he’s always coming home with little toys to help with Nikolai’s development. It’s so different from the man he was when he was pakhan.
Samuil adjusts Nikolai on his lap and leans into me again.
“You look tired,” he says gently. “Was it a rough week?”
“A little,” I admit. “The kids are wonderful, but I forgot how draining it can be to be ‘on’ all day long. Lunch duty today nearly finished me off.”
Samuil chuckles. “You need better security in that cafeteria.”
“I need earplugs,” I correct.
He threads his fingers through mine. “I’m glad you’re back,” he says softly. “I know you could have stayed home, and I would have supported that too. But I like seeing you do what you love.”
I rest my head lightly on his shoulder. “I like being back. And I like coming home to this.”
Nikolai lets out a squeal so joyful it almost startles us, then falls over onto his stomach in a dramatic roll that clearly delights him. He kicks his legs, babbling happily at nothing. Samuil watches him with a tenderness that still brings a lump to my throat.
Nikolai looks back at us and laughs, waiting for us to pick him up. I lurch forward to grab him and pull him back against me, smiling as he lets out a peal of happy laughter.
He’s such a happy baby, and I couldn’t love him more. From the first moment I knew he existed, I loved him with my entire heart. He was my reason to keep going, my reason to stay safe in the midst of danger, my reason to live.
The last year with him and Samuil have been the best of my life, and I’ll never take for granted what a perfect miracle he is, even when he’s screaming bloody murder or ruining another onesie.
“It’s almost his bath time,” Samuil murmurs quietly. “Want me to handle it tonight?”
“No.” I sigh, staring down at my perfect boy. “I want to do it. I missed my time with him all week.”
Samuil smiles and kisses the top of my head. “Of course, lyubimaya,” he answers affectionately. “I’ll make us some dinner.”
He leaves us to go to the kitchen, and I take Nikolai into the bathroom, where I get him settled in his baby bathtub. He splashes around happily, only crying when I wipe his face. He hates having his face cleaned, no matter how dirty he is.
“You’re okay,” I coo, rubbing his head gently. “Mama’s here.”