Time restored the processes.
Days turned into weeks.
Nate took Roman on seriously.
And now Roman was studying at a naval academy.
My heart had been trampled.
It felt like I was paralyzed.
Now my son was a man,
and he had to learn how to live in a man’s world.
I watched Nate.
And I was afraid.
How soon would he return to racing and aircraft?
I had no doubts.
His essence and his darkness would pull him back.
He would return to risk.
I saw everything starting to malfunction.
But I said nothing.
I was damn tired of carrying him.
I don’t want to save anyone anymore.
I want ordinary, earthly happiness.
Quiet.
Peace.
I was tired of hospitals, IV drips, and psychiatric wards.
Now that Nate was holding all the processes again,
life gave me a chance to take care of my own affairs.
And I started to draw.
To draw one of my worst nightmares.
While drawing, I was remembering my childhood.
And at the same time, it was pulling me out of trauma.
I tried to give the paper the pain
and the horrors of those years.
Sometimes — or rather, almost all the time — I cried.
But no one judged me.
I could cry,
and then keep drawing.
Gradually, I came to terms with the fact
that everything was working out.
One of my drawings was even sent to a competition.
A little sparrow with golden flecks.
…
And then I started teaching.
Logic had always been my strong suit.
Physics and chemistry were its best friends.
But all of that paled compared to mathematics.
Nothing had the same weight as mathematics.
I loved it to death.
And suddenly, I found it funny.
It was amazing that none of the three had inherited my abilities.
And here I was — a teacher.
Funny.
And terrifyingly fun.
They couldn’t fire me.
But I got in everyone’s way.
I disrupted lessons
because we spotted a butterfly
and absolutely had to follow it.
Or I would start talking about a mole,
and then the children would continue the story themselves,
and we would get so carried away — noisy, laughing —
that we ended up falling asleep on the floor.
In short, we rarely did real physics, chemistry, or mathematics.
Once, the principal tried to gently redirect me.
But Nate walked into the office —
and the principal immediately changed his mind.
And it was always like that.
Every time someone wanted to “give me advice,”
either Nate or Jonathan would appear.
I glowed with happiness.
A crowd of children.
And complete freedom.
That made my soul glad.
But it strongly distanced me from Nate.
We started running in different circles.
I was here, in the kindergarten.
And Nate was in the adult world.
I knew he loved children,
but still it didn’t feel like this was his life.
At work, I became friends with Connor.
Such a strange guy.
I don’t know what he does,
but there were no ordinary people in our kindergarten.
Which meant he was some kind of big shot too.
But he taught drawing and history to children.
His daughter, Iris,
attended our kindergarten.
I liked the nonsense Connor came out with.
I was laughing at him all the time.
How could anyone blurt out things like that?
A complete idiot.
Nate wasn’t kidding — he was angry.
He didn’t like any of this.
I didn’t want scandals
and tried to avoid those moments.
Nate became jumpy and nervous.
And I avoided him.
I didn’t want to think about the fact
that he might snap soon,
and that at the races there would surely be those
who wanted to comfort him.
We dug in the sandbox with the kids
and watched programs about animals.
After classes, Connor would tell some nonsense about ants,
and the children laughed so hard.
I liked that kind of time.
I stopped going to bars.
I almost always refused to go.
Which led to even more tension
between me and Nate.
I didn’t want intimacy.
And besides, I stayed up late
with notebooks and my manuscripts.
On weekends,
I went to the city center,
where I met with my readers.
Security came with me,
and I could breathe calmly,
not fearing for my safety.
I was relaxed and content.
I liked helping my readers.
Advice. Mentorship.
They were always pushing money on me.
It felt strange to me.
I can’t sell care.
I don’t want to do that.
I come to the city center and help them
because I want to help them.
I don’t need money.
It even felt humiliating —
can you really pay for my care?
Does that mean I have a price?
A cost?
That hurt me.
So then they started giving me gifts.
I was happy
and squealed with delight.
I love gifts.
And gifts felt honest to me.
Because I gave them a gift —
my love and care.
And they gave me a gift
as love and care in return.
I love it when everything comes from the heart.
Jonathan scolded me,
said I should take money from them.
I waved it off.
All kinds of people started coming to me,
and everyone needed my advice.
I poured tea
and sat down more comfortably.
Alright, let’s begin.
What’s the problem?
That’s how time passed.
…
One day, I accidentally ran into Connor
in a restaurant.
They were laughing at the sausages with Iris.
It made me laugh too, and I stood there watching them
until I was finally offered a seat at the table.
I waved at them.
They invited me to sit at their table.
I declined.
I didn’t want to interfere with a family dinner.
I called Nate.
He came.
But for some reason, he was displeased.
I bit my lip, hurt by it.
“How was your day?”
He snapped back.
I burst into tears.
Nate immediately realized it,
but I went to the bathroom.
I felt a little better
and stepped out of the stall to look at myself in the mirror.
And then Connor saw me.
“Are you okay?”
He gently touched my elbow.
I smiled.
Things like that are easy to read right away
if there’s a sexual undertone.
But here, there was genuine care.
“Thank you, I’m fine.”
I said goodbye to Connor.
That’s when Nate burst into the restroom.
Oh God.
Nate clenched his fists.
“Nate, please, don’t.”
He was boiling with rage.
“Please, his daughter is here.”
And I managed to pull Nate away.
We quickly paid the bill
and drove home.
The weight felt like a stone around my neck.
I felt trapped.
I just wanted to be alone.
But Nate got carried away.
I endured it.
And then I had to pull myself together
and tell him that if he crossed the line,
I would start playing by his rules.
The rest of the drive was even worse than the beginning.
And I suggested we live separately for a while.
Both of us needed air.
It made me sick to think about
how he would pass his evenings.
Nate agreed reluctantly.
…
The night passed in a fog.
I was shaking and crying.
Alone.
Abandoned by everyone.
The bedroom suddenly felt too big,
and the fireplace no longer warmed my soul.
I hugged my little dog and kitty —
my favorite stuffed toys —
and fell asleep.
In the morning, I went down to breakfast,
and it felt like everyone already knew.
Thank God no one brought it up directly.
The twins were at Nate’s parents’ place for the whole summer,
so there was no need to deal with the children for now.
Summer always carries a different kind of life.
I got myself ready,
and Sophie did my hair.
The lesson went wonderfully.
We even managed to do a bit of counting with the kids.
And then we sneaked off to check whether a ladybug really wears the same outfit every time.
The children begged me to knit her something to wear for the winter.
And I said I’d try,
even though knitting isn’t my field.
After the lessons,
I invited Connor over for tea
and then for a walk in the forest.
I liked that he was always talking,
and I could stay silent the whole time.
Sometimes I listened to what he was saying,
and it made me laugh so hard.
Why would anyone build theories about that ladybug?
And sometimes I drifted off into my own thoughts,
then came back —
and he was still talking some kind of nonsense.
With Connor, I don’t have to be smart.
I don’t think he even knows that I write,
or about my articles published by HarperCollins.
To him, I’m just a teacher.
Perfect.
He always stopped when he saw a beetle or a caterpillar,
so as not to crush them.
My God, it’s hard to imagine anything more pathetic.
— Hades
Nate, on the other hand — real power,
alpha in action.
— Mushu
I brushed it off.
I was tired of an alpha who loves himself
more than his family.
But he wasn’t always like that.
— Hades
I shrugged.
Maybe he was.
Maybe the darkness was just waiting for its moment,
and now he had become who he had always been,
without realizing it himself.
They fell silent.
I didn’t want to think about
all these problems with Nate right now.
I sat down on a tree stump
and asked Connor to tell me something else.
I warmed myself in the sun.
And the security in suits were sweating,
but I brushed it off —
for what they’re paid, they can endure worse.
Connor told me about Iris’s mother —
that she had died.
I was surprised.
It felt so cinematic.
I had never seen anything like that.
A father — understandable.
But a mother?
A child without a mother…
I don’t know.
I didn’t believe it.
Of course, I didn’t say it out loud.
…
Connor and I walked together every day.
I liked those walks.
I relaxed
and rested my soul.
Sebastian found us in a clearing.
“Miss.”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Nate intends to fly a fighter jet.”
I smiled.
Yes, he had always wanted that.
Thank you, Sebastian.
He bowed and left.
Connor carefully asked
what was going on between Nate and me.
I said I had no idea at all.
I didn’t feel like opening my soul too much.
And overall, I tried not to think about it.
What can you say?
I grew up,
and Nate stayed where he was.
That’s the whole story.
And each of us is sure
that we’re right.