He nodded. He’d wondered what I’d been doing—while he’d been dying.
That was why he hated winter. That was why he always wanted the windows and doors opened.
And this man called me . . . his sun?
“Worse than anything was knowing that Orloff still abused my little brother. Everyone was gone. Protecting Dmitri was my responsibility. And I’d failed.”
“There was nothing you could do. You were a boy.”
“Aleksandr said the same, though I believe he could’ve come up with some way to escape and save his brother. In fact, it was Dmitri who saved me. The night of a bitter freeze, he woke from his haze long enough to comprehend I was about to die. He knocked the man out with a shovel. My brother knelt beside me, crying . . . as I strangled Orloff. I killed him before he could ever wake.”
Máxim had been forced to do that? As a boy? My heart broke for him and Dmitri.
He gauged my expression. “My family is surrounded by death and destruction. Aleksandr killed young. As did I. Only I did it with my bare hands when the man wasn’t able to defend himself. I crept out of that basement, some dark warped thing, desperate to kill. How can you not view me differently?”
“I do view you differently. I’m staggered by how brave you were to protect yourself and Dmitri from a monster.” I wish I were so brave! I clutched Máxim’s shoulders. “I can’t feel more fiercely about this. I hate that the weight of this fell on you. But have you thought about the children you spared in that man’s future? Or the ones you avenged from his past? And since Orloff was ready to let you die, why should we not believe he’d murdered before?”
My reaction took Máxim aback, but I needed to make him understand. “Sometimes people aren’t courageous enough to do what is necessary—adults aren’t.” In my position, Máxim would’ve met Edward head on, fighting. “All they can do is dream about being brave. You did what had to be done when you were just a boy. So yes, I see you differently!”
“I didn’t expect you to be so . . . vehement.” Máxim’s gaze flicked over my face, then slid to his right shoulder.
I was squeezing him? Self-conscious, I dropped my hands and cleared my throat. “What did you do afterward?”
He frowned at my reaction, but continued, “Dmitri didn’t want anyone to know what Orloff had done to him, so I got rid of the body in the woods. He was never found. We said he got drunk, went out before a storm, and didn’t return. No one particularly cared. Years later, I learned he’d been suspected of abusing girls and boys from his own town. Afterward, an elderly woman arrived as guardian. She didn’t hurt us, nor did she help us.”
“How is Dmitri now?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “He was displeased to hear of my relationship with you.”
Máxim had said he wasn’t ready for his brothers to learn of me. “And I pretty much announced myself.”
“He would have heard by the time of this wedding.”
“So some of the angry phone calls have been about me?”
“It can’t be helped.” He exhaled. “Dmitri could not be more damaged. Every move he makes to get better seems to entrap him more deeply in the past.”
“Does he have anyone in his life? A partner? Friends?”
“He’s incapable of a relationship. We were alike in that, commiserating over it. While I had my script, he’d developed what he calls protocols. They are more far-reaching, even . . . absolute.” He opened his mouth to say more, then paused. “You will meet him. I don’t want to color your perception any more.”
What more could there be? But I said, “I understand.”
“He blames Aleksandr for abandoning us. As eldest, Aleksandr had been a father to Dmitri. Then he was gone.”
“Is that why you said you resented him?”
“I used to hate him, imagining his carefree life under the protection of a good man like Kovalev. Yet I learned recently that Aleksandr lived on the streets before Kovalev adopted him. Among so many homeless children, he was an outsider. He’d been raised with privilege—abused, yes, but wealthy—and he talked little by nature. Being alone meant he also had . . . trials, was in no way freed when he left us. In fact, he used to believe he’d been singled out for torment. After finding Natalie, he believes he was tested so he would become strong enough to protect her—that the purpose of his life was always to safeguard hers and ensure her happiness. What do you think of that?”
I softly asked, “How do we know that isn’t true? If you believe everything happens for a reason . . .”
He seemed to mull this over. “For decades, I could see no reason for my own trials as a boy. Insomnia plagued me. My appetite was deadened; I could take or leave food, deriving no enjoyment from it. My hypersensitive skin made touch unbearable. For years, I had to grit my teeth just to wear a shirt. Even when I improved physically, my mind wasn’t ready to let go. If anyone got close to touching my skin, I’d feel as if my chest was caving in.”
Just like mine did when I practiced revealing my past. “But things are different with you now. You have a sweet tooth. You sleep soundly.” I whispered, “I touch you.”
“I told Aleks of these developments, seeking his opinion.”
How odd to hear a man as self-reliant as Máxim getting another’s take. But then, Aleks was his big brother, newly reunited with him. “What did he say?”