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She can feel the beginnings of a headache forming behind her eyes and she aches for a glass of wine to take the edge off before she crawls into her bed.
There’s no time for that, not yet at least when her daughter is storming about the living room still trying to play with her toys despite the late hour.
“Katya,” Alina sighs, “You can play more tomorrow.”
Katya just huffs and throws one of her toys onto the ground with a little more force than necessary.
“But—”
“No, buts,” Alina interrupts.
She moves to twirl her wedding band on her finger, an unconscious habit she picked up on, only to find her bare skin instead.
Alina just swallows, trying to shake herself from her stupor.
“Yekaterina, bed, now.”
She hears her daughter groan, loud and dramatic, as she stomps through the house and towards her room. How such a little girl can conjure that much noise is beyond her and Alina follows after her, wincing when she steps on a barbie doll along the way.
Later, she thinks, she’ll clean up later.
When she enters her daughter's room, Katya is already under the covers, waiting patiently for Alina to arrive.
“Alright, sweet girl,” Alina says, kneeling by her bed, “all ready for good dreams?”
“Mama, can you w’eed me a story?”
“A story?” Alina hopes her eyes don’t give her away, the weight of the day pressing on her with her bed calling her name.
“Yes, p’wease.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” Alina replies, she looks to Katya’s nightstand, ignoring the framed picture of her and her ex-husband, grabbing two of the books that lie there, “which one?”
She holds them up and Katya grins, pointing at one.
“Brown bear, Brown bear?”
Katya nods, a happy little smile on her face as she settles herself further into the bed, ready to hear the story.
“Okay,” she opens the book, positioning it so her daughter can see, “brown bear, brown bear,” she starts, “what do you see? I see a red bird looking at me.”
“Mama, voices,” Katya mumbles.
“What, sweetheart?”
“The voices,” she says again, “Papa always does the voices.”
She blinks, because she doesn’t remember the voices Aleksander used, suddenly wished she paid attention to the story more than she paid attention to him.
“Right, the voices,” Alina says, she clears her throat and starts over, “Brown bear, brown bear, what do you see?” she thinks of what a bear would sound like, and attempts lowering her voice to make it deeper, “I see a red bird—”
“Mama no!”
“Katya—”
“Papa does the nice voice,” she whines, “p’wease Mama s’not right.”
Katya’s lip trembles and Alina can tell she’s starting to get worked up, so she reaches out to run a hand along her hair, trying her best to comfort her.
“Sweet girl, I’m sorry,” Alina says, “I don’t know the voices Papa does.”
Apparently that’s the completely wrong thing to say, and Katya’s lip wobbles uncontrollably before the tears come, a sob ripping from her little chest that makes Alina’s heart clench.
She sets the book down on the bed and crawls into it next to her, scooping Katya into her arms as her daughter continues to wail.
“Want Papa,” she sobs, “Want Papa.”
“I know, baby,” Alina soothes, “I know, it’s okay.”
Katya struggles against her, seemingly unsure whether she wants to be held by her mother or wants to push her away.
All Alina knows is she can’t take seeing her daughter this upset and she tries kissing her hair, tries rubbing her back, only for the crying to continue and the pleas for her father to fall from her lips.
Alina pulls out her phone from her pocket and opens facetime, hoping Aleksander is around.
He answers on the second ring.
“Alina?”
“Papa!”
The sound of his voice through Alina’s phone sends Katya scrambling and Alina sushes her gently, holding the phone in front of her so she can see her father’s face.
“Papa; missed you,” Katya mumbles. She wipes at her eyes with the sleeves of her pj’s settling into the crook of Alina’s neck. Aleksander looks between Katya and Alina before returning back to Katya, smiling at her.
“I miss you too, milaya,” he says, “Are you all ready for bed?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Katya wanted a story,” Alina interrupts softly, “And Mama wasn’t doing the voices right.”
“They were mean,” Katya tries to whisper to her father. Aleksander suppresses a smirk and just nods seriously at her.
“I’m sure Mama tried her best,” he teases, “Why don’t I read the story while Mama turns the pages? Does that sound okay, Katyusha?”
“Mhm.”
“Okay,” he says, he looks at Alina and she opens the book, wondering for a second how he’s supposed to read from it before he just starts reciting it from memory.
His voices are far different, gentler and silly that have Katya giggling in her arms. Alina keeps turning the pages, glancing up at him every once in a while, only to find him looking at Katya. Her eyes eventually start to droop and Alina can feel her daughter start to drift off, the small grip she had on Alina’s shirt going slack.
“Goodnight, Katyusha,” Aleksander murmurs.
Alina holds up a finger to him to motion to him to wait, setting the phone down next to her so she can settle Katya back in her bed. She tucks her in and presses a light kiss to her forehead, grabbing her phone and exiting the bedroom, the door clicking softly behind her.
She takes a breath and lifts the phone.
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
Aleksander shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks ready for bed himself and a part of Alina aches, wishing that when she went to her bedroom, he would be there waiting to decompress from the day with her.
“It’s fine,” he replies, “I’m glad you called.”
“Yeah, apparently I need voice lessons,” Alina tries to joke. Aleksander smirks at her and she just rolls her eyes.
“It would be easier, you know,” he tries, “if I was there.”
“Don’t start this again,” Alina sighs. It’s barely been two months since they both signed the papers that finalized their divorce, and still he was insistent that it was the wrong decision.
Aleksander looks at her pointedly but just keeps his mouth shut, a surprise for once that she welcomes readily.
“Well,” she says, “Thanks again.”
“Alina,” he sighs, “You know this isn’t working.”
“It’s working just fine,” she argues lightly, and it’s not, it’s not at all but it has to, “she’ll see you Tuesday.”
“Right,” he replies, “Goodnight, Alina.”
“Goodnight.”
She hangs up the call, pressing the corner of her phone to her mouth as she swallows, a thick thing that makes her feel like she’s choking.
She’ll do better next time.
Because she can do this, she can do everything Aleksander did, she’ll figure it out.
She has to.
***
Katya complains when her crusts are still on the sandwich for lunch.
When had Aleksander started cutting them off?
It’s fine.
She’ll figure it out.
***
She blames her job for making her forget to get a gift to David Jr.’s second birthday party.
Her workday was supposed to end at three, but two of her students who had been out sick the past week had come in begging to makeup their test.
She let them sit there, let them get their work done and stayed the extra time despite not getting paid for it, all but sprinting to the parking lot when they were finally done.
Alina calls Aleksander in the car, going a bit faster than normal over to his apartment.
“You’re late,” he sing songs when he picks up. His voice rings throughout the car and she groans.
“I know,” she replies, “I had some kids that needed me to stay after.”
Choosing them over your own daughter, her mind helpfully supplies.
“Is Katya ready to go?” she asks.
“Been ready,” Aleksander replies, “Had to wrestle her out of her Halloween costume though.”
Alina snorts.
“What? You don’t think a werewolf costume is appropriate for a toddler’s birthday party?”
“She might scare the babies,” Aleksander jokes.
“I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”
He doesn’t reply and Alina realizes a bit late that he wouldn’t get to enjoy any of the party, seeing as she was taking Katya and he wasn’t going. He had asked, but she thought it was too soon, would be too awkward.
Didn’t tell him it was because she knew Genya would be breaking out the alcohol during the party and she was worried she might do something she’d regret if he were there.
“I just pulled into the driveway,” Alina murmurs.
“Sure, be right down.”
He hangs up and she fiddles with the radio to put some music on, waiting patiently for them to come outside. His apartment complex was ridiculously nice, almost nicer than her house, and she fought to roll her eyes at the young woman jogging nearby with her tits bouncing with each step she took.
She’s sure Aleksander loved that, she thought bitterly. Then she shook her head, wondering when she got so old and audibly sighs.
Her backdoor of the car opens and she turns around, smiling at Katya as Aleksander helps her into her car seat.
“Hey, sweet pea,” Alina greets, “You ready for little David’s party?”
“Will Zo-Zo and Nik be there?”
Alina smiles and Aleksander chuckles, buckling her in.
“Auntie Zoya and Uncle Nik will be there,” Alina confirms. Katya squeals and wiggles a bit in her seat in excitement and Alina just shakes her head in amusement.
“Have fun at the party, milaya,” Aleksander says to their daughter, “eat a piece of cake for me, okay?”
Katya’s eyes go wide.
“Two pieces of cake?”
Aleksander presses a kiss to her forehead and glances at Alina.
“Just don’t tell Mama,” he pretends to whisper.
Katya nods, waving at her father as he goes, the door closing gently behind him.
Alina pulls away from the curb and heads towards Genya and David’s place as Katya tells her about her day with Aleksander.
Not only did they have a tea party with sir quacks-a-lot, but Papa let her play with the neighbors new puppy when they went for a walk to the park.
“It was the best day Mama,” Katya tells her, “Wish Papa came too. I don’t need two cakes.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Alina says, “Maybe next time.”
Katya just hums but otherwise stays quiet, and Alina wonders if she’s starting to catch on to how empty those promises have been. She doesn’t want to disappoint her, but she also didn’t want to get her hopes up. She had been straddling a fine line with her the past few months and was struggling on staying on the right side.
They pull up to Genya and David’s street and Alina parks about a block away, wondering just how many children they invited to this infants birthday party.
Alina gets Katya out of her car seat and takes her hand in her own, walking with her towards the house.
“Mama where’s baby David’s p’wesent?”
Fuck.
Fuck.
“I gave it to Genya and David early,” she lies, and she hates lying to her daughter but can’t deal with a tantrum right now, not another one that’s all her fault.
“Oh,” Katya says, “They know it’s from us?”
“Yes, sweetheart, of course.”
Katya nods, and accepts her answer, all forgotten when they arrive inside the house and they’re greeted with tons of laughing children and Nikolai scooping Katya into his arms.
Alina greets Genya with a hug, lingering to whisper in her ear.
“I totally forgot a present but Katya thinks I gave it to you early.”
Genya snorts.
“Thank you, Alina, very thoughtful,” she teases.
Alina draws back and smacks her friend on the shoulder and Genya snickers, grabbing her by the wrist to lead her towards the kitchen.
“You need a glass of wine,” she declares.
“And another brain,” Alina jokes, “and another set of hands, and another set of eyes.”
“Well…”
“Don’t say it,” Alina pleads, leaning on Genya’s counter, “Not today.”
Her friend mimes locking her lips and begins pouring her a glass of wine.
If it’s more than normal, no one has to know.
***
Alina accidentally over feeds Katya’s goldfish.
Aleksander had won it for her at a fair three months before they got the divorce.
She replaces it with a new one from the pet store before Katya can notice.
Goes to sleep crying because it’s just something else she ruined.
***
She waits in the threshold of the house, watching as Aleksander gets their daughter out of her carseat and walks with her to the front door. Aleksander hands her Katya’s overnight bag and she slings it over her shoulder.
“Papa wanna show you the new doll house,” she tugs on Aleksander’s hand and he sighs, squatting down so he’s eye level with her.
“Maybe another time, sweetheart.”
“No,” Katya whines, “now, Papa.”
Alina shakes her head, running her hand through Katya’s hair.
“Papa has to go home,” she tells her, “say goodbye.”
“I don’t want to!” Katya yells.
“Katya it’s bedtime,” Alina tells her gently, “It’s time to go inside and get ready to sleep.”
“No!” her daughter protests. She tugs on Aleksander’s hand and stomps her little feet, suddenly angry and frustrated, clearly with nowhere for it to go. “S’not fair, Mama, please.”
Aleksander glances at Alina but she just shakes her head, she can’t cave, because if she caves now Katya will expect it all the time. She can’t change up her routine, needs to get her used to how things will be from now, needs to still get used to it herself.
“I’m sorry, Katya, but Papa has to go home,” Alina says again, “It’s time for—”
“I hate you!” Katya suddenly screams at her, interrupting her words.
Alina stands there, stunned as she watches Katya run down the hallway and into her room, barely registering Aleksander yelling out Yekaterina! as she goes. Her bedroom door slams and Alina can’t move, her heart aching at the words that left her daughter’s mouth.
A part of her is surprised they didn’t come sooner.
“Alina,” Aleksander says, “She didn’t mean it.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles.
She shakes her head and she looks at Aleksander, now standing in her doorway, looking like he wants to come inside, to talk.
And she wants it too, but can’t, knows it would only serve to hurt her more right now.
“I’ll drop her off in three days,” she tells him.
“Right.”
Her shoulders hunch together and she can feel herself want to cry but tries to hold it in.
“Alina—”
“Goodnight, Aleksander.”
He just nods and she closes the front door, resting her forehead on it once it’s shut.
She wonders if he’s still on the other side.
Wonders if that would make this any easier.
***
The sun is streaming into her window at an odd angle and she peaks her eyes open, surprised to see it settled in the middle of the room.
She glances at the clock and frowns, because there’s no way that’s right, there’s no way it’s nearly noon and she hasn’t been woken up by her daughter flinging herself into her bed.
Alina groans and sits up, her body almost over tired from the amount she slept and she gets up, frowning at how quiet the house is.
“Katya?” she calls.
She keeps walking to Katya’s room and pushes open the door to find her daughter still laying in bed, whimpering slightly.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Alina coos. She settles on her knees next to Katya’s bed and reaches out to run a hand along her back, frowning further, “Katya, honey, look at Mama.”
She sniffles and turns in her bed, a line of sweat over her forehead and tears in her eyes.
Alina puts her hand on the back of Katya’s head and swears under her breath.
“Baby, you’re burning up,” Alina says, “what hurts?”
Katya sniffs and points at her head and then at her chest.
“Okay, okay,” Alina says. She scoops Katya up and brings her to the bathroom, sitting her on the closed lid of the toilet as she starts to run the bath.
“No,” Katya moans.
“We gotta cool you down,” Alina tells her, “It’ll make you feel better, Mama promises.”
“Hurts,” she mumbles.
“I know,” Alina says. “You’re being such a brave girl for Mama.”
She lets the water fill and starts stripping her daughter from her sweaty pjs, wondering how on earth she could’ve gotten a fever this badly, this fast.
She was fine last night.
Wasn’t she?
Maybe Katya was a little quieter than normal but Alina would’ve noticed if she was sick.
Right?
She gets Katya into the bath, trying to settle her the best she can as she moans uncomfortably.
“Ssh, it’s okay, baby, Mama needs to take your temperature, okay?”
Katya sniffles but nods and Alina runs a hand through her daughter’s hair comfortingly before she stands, shuffling through the medicine cabinet until she gets what she needs.
She gets the thermometer into Katya’s mouth and waits, then feels her heart drop at the number because that can’t be good, 103 degrees cannot be good, and she probably needs to bring her to the hospital now.
She takes out the thermometer and quickly goes to her room to grab her phone, dialing Aleksander’s number as she returns to the bathroom.
“Hi, you’ve reached the cell phone of Aleksander Morozova. If it’s an emergency please call my wife— Sasha!— otherwise leave a message.”
Alina listens to the sounds of her own recorded laughter until the tone beeps and she shakes her head, reminding herself why she called in the first place.
“It’s me,” Alina says, “Listen, Katya has a really bad fever and I think I need to bring her to the hospital. I’m—” she swallows, I’m scared, she wants to say, I need you, “Please call me back.”
“Mama?” Katya whimpers.
Alina sets down her phone and moves over to the bath, leaning on the side. She puts her palm to Katya’s head again and it feels exactly the same, the cool water seemingly having no effect.
“What hurts?” Alina tries again.
Katya points to her chest again.
“Okay, baby, we’re gonna go to the doctor, alright?” Alina soothes, “They’ll make everything better but you gotta be my brave girl for me now, can you do that?”
Katya sniffles and nods.
Alina tries not to blame herself as she gets Katya out of the bath, tries not to think that this was somehow her fault, that she missed the signs of her getting sick, that she wasn’t careful enough.
She fails.
And fails.
And fails.
***
It’s late when they get back home.
Katya is dozed off on her shoulder, exhausted from the day and from being sick.
She was fine, just caught a bad bit of the flu. The doctors had given her fluids and helped bring her fever down, but by the time they got out of the hospital the sun was setting and the day was ending.
And she still hadn’t heard from Aleksander.
It wasn’t like him to not answer the phone and if she wasn’t so worried about the girl currently sleeping in her arms she’d find the room to be worried about him as well.
She brings Katya into Alina’s room and sets her down on the bed, knowing she won’t want to be away from her tonight.
There’s a chance she could get sick herself, but with all the germs she gets at the school she doubts her immune system will crumble too harshly over this.
Katya snuggles into Alina’s pillows and she settles a blanket over her daughter, kissing her on the forehead before she exits the room.
She needs to strip Katya’s bed, clean the sheets and probably the comforter, should probably clean the bathroom as well since they left in a hurry.
Alina moves to do just that when there’s a knock on her front door.
It’s insistent and Alina swears, rushing over to it so it doesn’t wake up her daughter.
Aleksander is on the other side, looking panicked, his eyes a bit wild and his button down shirt rumpled.
“Is she alright?” he asks the minute she opens the door.
“Quiet,” Alina scolds lightly, “I just got her in bed.”
Aleksander sighs and Alina moves out of the way to usher him inside.
“What happened?“ he asks.
“She has the flu,” Alina sighs, “Her fever was about at a hundred and three this morning so I took her to the ER.”
“But she’s alright?” Aleksander confirms.
Alina nods.
“She is now.”
She watches some of the tension drain from his face and shoulders.
“Where were you?” Alina asks. “I called. A lot.”
“I know—”
“And I was at the hospital alone,” she continues.
I was scared.
Where were you?
“I know, Alina, I’m sorry,” he sighs, “I had that conference in the city, remember?” she didn’t, shit she completely forgot, “I told you they were making us “unplug” or whatever the kids call it these days, it’s why I gave you my emergency number.”
Her heart drops and she glances at the fridge, at the number she wrote down last week when Aleksander had given it to her.
“You forgot,” he says lightly, “it’s fine, I’m sure you were—”
“Just say it.”
He tilts his head and frowns, making her sigh, tears suddenly threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes. The weight of the day, the weight of these past months, comes crashing down all at once.
“I’m a shit mother,” she manages. Her bottom lip trembles and she has to tear her eyes from Aleksander, looking anywhere else but him. She can’t bear to see his agreement, his teasing, for him to—
“Alina, you're a wonderful mother.”
“Stop.”
“Alina—”
“I’m fucking everything up,” she argues, looking back up at him, “you remind me of it everyday, I can’t do anything right.”
And maybe he doesn't say it outright but he didn't need to. He teased her when she forgot things, poked fun at the disarray of the house. She knew what he really thought of her because it was exactly what she thought about herself.
“Alinochka—”
He reaches out a hand for her and she flinches.
“Don’t,” she bites, stepping back, “don’t call me that.”
He sighs, giving her a pained look. He’s always been one to comfort by touch, always held her first, ran a hand along her back, took her hand in his. Put himself in contact with her skin before he tried to help her through whatever was wrong. It used to help, but the thought of him touching her now makes her stomach twist painfully.
“Maybe—,” she looks up at the ceiling, fights the tears in a losing battle as they start to roll down her cheeks, “maybe you should take her.”
He has the decency to look surprised, but isn’t this what he wanted? It’s probably what Katya wanted, she always wanted her Papa. She’d be better off without Alina in the way to ruin things any longer.
“Alina, why would you—”
“Don’t act like you don’t know!” she shouts, throwing her hands up in frustration. She looks at him and wipes at her eyes uselessly, “You’re so much better at this than I am and you know it.”
His shoulders slump helplessly and his eyes soften.
“I’m not a better parent than you are,” he replies, “Katya, loves you, milaya, you’re her mother.”
“Yeah, and I’m doing a right shit job of it,” Alina laughs humorously. She crosses her arms against her chest and shakes her head, “I can't even read her a bedtime story, Sasha.”
The name slips out unconsciously and she catches the way his mouth parts slightly before he sighs.
“Do you know what happened last weekend?”
Alina blinks, confused at why he’s bringing this up at all and shakes her head.
“We were at the park and Katya tripped and scraped her knee,” Aleksander tells her, “she was fine, didn’t even cry,” the corner of his mouth lifts slightly, amused by their little girl, “but then she told me I had to “do the magic” to make it all better.”
Alina’s eyes widen in realization and she releases a small breath.
“Oh no,” she breathes, smiling slightly.
“I had no idea what she was talking about,” he continues, “and even though she wasn’t hurt she started screaming because if I didn’t hurry up, her leg was going to fall off.”
Alina puts her hand on her face and groans slightly in understanding.
“You have to do the thing with your hands,” she explains. She moves her hands in front of her, swirling them and then lifting, “it sucks the pain away, and keeps you happy all day,” she recites. She had done it today for her several times at the hospital and once in the car before they returned back home.
The look he gives her, one that’s filled with adoration and something she refuses to acknowledge, makes her flush.
“I didn’t know that,” he murmurs.
“She’s clumsy,” Alina replies, “It helped her not cry as much over little bumps and bruises.”
Aleksander’s eyes are still soft on her, and he looks like he wants to reach out but is fighting to refrain himself.
“Alina,” Aleksander sighs, “We knew this would be harder after we—'' he pauses, “after we separated. But we’re figuring it out.”
“Are we?” Alina asks lightly.
They stand there in silence for a while, nothing but the clock in the kitchen ticking quietly to fill the space with sound. He was right, wasn’t he? That this wouldn’t work if they weren’t together, that Katya needed both of them. Alina knows too, what she needs as well, but refuses to touch it, can't go back to feeling trapped, feeling drowned and smothered by him, can't go back to that awful jealous person she became when she was with him.
Ignores that she's still quite the same without him, the only difference being that she was just alone in her feelings and no longer had him to help her navigate them.
“I’m sorry I forgot about your work trip,” she finally says, “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
“It’s okay,” he promises, “Katya’s alright, that’s all that matters.”
“I just wouldn’t be able to bear it if you both hated me.”
An attempt at a joke that falls flat as she thinks of her own daughter’s words, still fresh in her mind even if they were weeks old.
“Neither one of us could ever, ever hate you, Alina,” he scratches at his beard, a hand over his mouth as if he’s attempting to physically hold his next words inside. “You mean everything to u—to Katya.”
She gives him a strained smile, then herself a little shake, wipes away the wetness that has gathered in her eyes.
“Did you want to have… tea?," she asks quietly, "Or something?”
“You’ve had a long day, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
“I am… but, please, stay for a bit,” she insists. The thought of him leaving right now makes her entire chest ache, and she knows it's not fair, but she needed him today, needed him these past few months after forcing herself to push him away. For right now, maybe she can let what she can handle back in, “Besides, I need you to teach me the voices for the other books.”
His lips turn upwards and he nods.
“Fine,” he replies, “one cup.”
His eyes are light with teasing amusement and she feels some of the weight from the day shed off her as she finds herself returning his grin.
“One cup,” she agrees.
And so what if it turns into two?
fin.