Irina glanced at Vasil, who was sitting on the couch at the farthest possible point from her, and sighed. When she had decided to return home early, she hadn't expected to face this situation.
It was in that moment that she realized the past could repeat itself. Maybe not in the same way, and fortunately, not with the same outcome.
She didn't want to think about what might have happened if she had arrived just a little later.
She couldn't afford to lose anyone else. Especially not this child.
Irina looked at the bookshelf in front of her. "You know, I used to have a sister. An older sister."
Vasil's large eyes turned toward her. The tears on his eyelashes made them appear longer than usual. Irina continued, "Between the two of us, she was the most beautiful, the smartest, and the best at everything. When people looked at us, it was impossible for them to believe we were sisters, because she... well, she was *her*, and I was just... *me*. And as the younger one, I was always compared to her."
Irina looked at Vasil, who was now listening intently. "But, between us, none of that ever mattered. She was the best sister anyone could ever have, and I really loved her."
"When she was 21 and I was 14, she decided to come to America to build a better life, and she convinced Mom and Dad to let me come with her because she wanted a better life for me too."
Irina gave a bitter smile. "Honestly, I don't think it would have mattered much to them if I was there or not, especially when their favorite daughter wasn't going to be there either. Anyway, that's how we ended up in America."
"At first, everything was calm and normal. She worked, I studied, and in my spare time, I helped her with her job."
"Then, she fell in love with your father."
Vasil's gaze shifted to Irina's hands, which were now clenched into fists. Irina went on: "I didn't feel good about him. He was a strange man, didn't talk much. It seemed like he was trying to hide something by saying as little as possible. But my sister was happy, and that was all that mattered to me."
"We didn't know he was married. We never suspected it because sometimes he would stay with us for a few days, and both of us were too young and naïve to understand."
"When my sister got pregnant and he found out, at first, he tried to force her to get an abortion. When she refused, he just left."
"My sister searched desperately to find him, and that's when the truth came out."
"After that, she stopped looking for him, and I thought it was for the best. Just the two of us could handle raising a child, right?"
Irina looked at Vasil, her eyes filled with tears, as if she was waiting for a response. Before her tears could fall, she wiped them away with the back of her hand. "What I didn't realize was the effect all of this had on my sister. For me, as an observer, it was easier to deal with it, but for her, it wasn't."
"After that, she became very quiet. It was like she was just waiting for the days to pass. Now, when I think back, I realize that maybe the reason she didn't do something foolish back then was that she didn't want you to be hurt."
"Time passed, and then you were born."
A bittersweet smile appeared on Irina's face. "You were the tiniest and sweetest thing I had ever seen in my life. My sister thought the same. After you were born, she seemed so much more alive and happy."
"At least, that's what I thought..."
"Until a few days after your birth, when I came home and found her lying on the kitchen floor... her blood had... stained all the tiles red, and you were crying in another room..."
Irina wiped away the tears that had started to flow. "The rest, you already know."
Vasil stared at her for a moment. Finally, he said, "I'm sorry."
Irina, trying to regain control of her emotions, replied, "Why are you apologizing? You're not to blame for any of this."
One of Irina's hands reached for Vasil's head. Vasil, like a cat, leaned forward so she could stroke his hair. Irina whispered softly, "In fact, you're the most innocent victim in all of this. I'm sorry I haven't been a good mother to you. I honestly don't even know what I'm doing anymore."
Vasil looked at her with his large eyes. "You're doing your best."
He sat up straight, then asked, "Can I ask you something?"
Irina leaned back on the couch. "Sure, I know all of this probably isn't easy for you to understand."
" Actually, everything now makes more sense. " Vasil paused for a moment, his face taking on an uncertain expression. Then he asked, "Do I look like him?"
Irina raised an eyebrow. "Your father? No, not at all! You only share his eye color. Other than that, you look just like your mother."
Vasil looked at her in surprise. "My mom?"
Irina thought for a moment, then stood up. "Wait a second!"
She went to her room and returned shortly with a small box. She sat beside Vasil and opened it. Vasil curiously stared at the box.
Inside, there were several letters in Russian that Vasil couldn't understand. Irina casually took them out and placed them beside him. She picked up a stack of letters and muttered, "It should be right around here..."
She searched through the pile of letters until she finally found what she was looking for. With a triumphant smile, she held up a photo. "Aha!"
She lowered the photo and stared at it for a moment, then handed it to Vasil. He took the photo and examined it closely.
It was an old picture of Irina, with another young girl standing beside her, slightly taller. The Irina in the picture was only a few years older than Vasil was now, but what truly amazed Vasil was the other girl. The young girl had black, straight hair, and although her eyes were blue like Irina's, Vasil could see the facial differences between them. More strangely, he could see the resemblance between himself and the girl in the photo.
Vasil, his voice filled with excitement, said, "I really look like her!"
Irina smiled softly at the sight of his expression. "I told you. She and I didn't look much alike. She had the beauty and grace of our mother, and the hair and eyes of our father... and I, on the other hand, was the opposite."
Vasil, still staring at the photo, asked, "What was her name?"
Irina paused for a moment. "…Sasha."
Vasil looked at Irina. "It means 'Defender of the man'!"
Irina was surprised. "You know the meaning of it?"
Vasil nodded. "Last time, when you said this name, I looked it up in my book!"
Irina smiled. "Well... that book was your mother's, not mine. And so were all the other books in the library."
Vasil blinked. "Oh..."
Irina stared at him, then asked, "Any other questions?"
Vasil hesitated. "Just one."
Irina waited in silence. Vasil, somewhat uncertain, asked, "Can I still call you 'mom'?"
Irina paused. "Do you want to call me 'mom'... with everything you've learned? With all that you know...?"
Irina wanted to ask, "And with everything I've done?" but couldn't finish the sentence. Vasil looked at her with wide, pleading eyes. "Can't I?"
Irina sighed. "Of course you can! If you want to."
The stars returned to Vasil's eyes, and Irina felt a deep sense of shame for all she had or hadn't done for him.
Maybe Vasil wasn't her biological son, but Irina had raised him enough to be his mother. More than that, Vasil was the small version of Sasha, her lost sister, returned to her in the form of her child. All these years, Irina had been too foolish, young, sad, and tired to see it.
In that moment, Irina promised herself that she would be a better mother to Vasil. She set the box and letters aside and hugged him tightly. "You can call me whatever you want, as long as you promise you'll never leave me alone. Nothing else matters to me."
Vasil paused for a moment, then understood her meaning. Irina had always been good at speaking indirectly. "Of course, I'll never leave you, mom!"
Irina's voice trembled. "That's good."
She held him tighter than ever. "You're the only one I have left."
Before Vasil could respond, Irina pulled back and looked at him. "By the way, almost forgot—your birthday is next week! What would you like for a gift?"
Vasil, excited, replied, "Cake!"
Irina laughed. "We'll definitely have cake! But other than that?"
Vasil thought for a moment. "Can I wish for anything?"
Irina smiled. "Of course!"
"Then... can I wish that you stop drinking?"
The smile faded from Irina's face. "…Yes... of course, I promise."
And so, for the next ten years, Irina kept her promise.
That year, Vasil received a Russian dictionary as a gift.
***
The next day, when Stefan arrived at school, he saw Vasil waiting for him at the school gate. As their eyes met, Vasil smiled broadly and waved at him. Stefan let out a sigh of relief and approached.
Stefan asked, "What's up?"
Vasil casually replied, "Nothing much. What about you?"
Stefan shrugged. "Same here."
They walked toward the school doors together.
Vasil said, "Yesterday, I found out that my mom killed herself a few days after I was born, and the person who raised me is actually my aunt! And that I really look like my mom... except for my eyes. ... Stefan?"
Vasil turned to look at Stefan, who had fallen a few steps behind, with a puzzled expression.
Stefan, mouth agape, said, "... What??!"