I moved forward and lifted his head with my finger under his chin. When Luka’s gaze met mine, those brown eyes, the left with a smudge of my blue, my heart soared. “That’s because we were never apart. Since we were kids, we were one. It has always been that way. We found a way back to each other, my love.”
Luka’s eyes bored into mine, a flare of possession in their glare. “And will always be that way,” he said assertively. “I’m never losing you again.”
Tears filled my eyes. “And will always be that way.”
The door of his parents’ home opened and Papa Ivan walked out onto the steps. I held up my hand sporting the cast, and Ivan smiled sadly at me.
Luka had frozen, his expressive eyes now showing every bit of his apprehension.
“Let’s go, baby,” I whispered, just for him to hear.
I pulled on Luka’s hand and led him toward the house. He had showered back at my house after we had both seen Dr. Chazov, both now patched up. One of my papa’s men had brought him some blue jeans and a white shirt.
He looked so stunning that I almost couldn’t take it. His huge muscles tested the material of both his jeans and shirt, his defined traps pronounced and his blond hair messy in the most attractive way.
I wanted him more than ever.
Luka gripped my hand, his hold like a vise as we ascended the stairs. Ivan embraced me, then awkwardly hugged his son, and I couldn’t stop the tears tumbling from my eyes.
“Your mama is desperate to see you again, son. She—” Ivan’s voice broke. “She won’t believe it until she has you in her arms. She’s climbing the walls with excitement.”
Ivan led us into the foyer, and I could feel the tension pulsing from Luka, his hand rigid in mine. With a jerk of my arm, he pulled me into his chest, almost like he was using me as a shield as we walked into the living room. Talia was sitting on a chair, bouncing her leg in nerves and chewing on her thumbnail.
Mama Tolstoi paced in front of the marble fireplace, and when she saw us enter the room, she froze and stared.
I felt Luka stiffen behind me, and when I glanced up, his eyes were clenched, his head tilted to the side, and his cut full lips were pursed.
He remembered her. I now knew what his expression looked like when a memory fixed itself in place. My chest filled with happiness. He remembered his mama.
A sob escaped Mama Tolstoi’s mouth and she reached behind her to hold on to the mantel to keep upright. “Luka? Luka… is it you…?”
Luka’s hand fell from mine and he stepped round me. “M-Mama?”
Luka’s mama rushed forward upon hearing him speak and she held him in her outstretched arms. “Luka. It’s you… my son… my boy…”
“Yes.” Luka exhaled, and his mama wrapped her arms around his waist, her small frame tiny next to his large, broad heavily-muscled body.
“You’ve come home,” she cried. “You’ve come home to us… I knew you were out there. I could feel in my heart that you were still alive.” She pulled back and lay her hand on his stubbled cheek, standing on her tip-toes to do so. “My son… my son…”
Feeling like I was an intruder in the room, I backed out into the hallway as mother and son were reunited and walked through to the kitchen and out into the backyard. As soon as the fresh air hit my face, I immediately felt better.
Walking to a white bench in the small yard, I slumped down and closed my eyes, drawing in a long, deep breath.
I couldn’t believe everything that had happened. It all seemed so unreal. Like some dream I was about to wake up from.
Feeling the gravity of everything that had gone down of late—finding out Luka was alive, that Alik was responsible, the pain Luka had been put through over the years, and now Alik dead and Luka back in my arms—all I could do was submit to conflicted feelings of grief and joy.
Dropping my head into my hands, I just let it all go, my emotions pouring out of me through my tears.
“Kisa?”
Startled, I lifted my head, frantically wiping at my bruised face with my good hand and swallowed back my sobs. “Talia, you scared me,” I said, clearing my throat as she sat beside me, her stare fixing on the night sky.
Without a word, Talia’s hand reached out and held mine. I closed my eyes, just breathing in the Brooklyn summer air, when she whispered, “Thank you.”
Snapping my eyes open, I looked to Talia’s face that, I noticed, was changed, more relaxed. My chest tightened when I realized that for years, since Luka had “died,” this was the first time she seemed truly at ease.