Chapter 18
Nadiya
Today my workday starts at noon. So, after waking up, I stay in bed.
I don’t want to leave the bedroom, but I’m hungry, having missed dinner last night. So, whether I like it or not, I have to come out of my shelter.
I put on a warm knee-length robe and go to the mirror.
“What a nightmare,” I whisper to my reflection, and then I go to the bathroom next to the bedroom and wash my face with cold water, coming to my senses a little.
I could put on makeup right away, but I think Idar has already left for work, so I won’t run into him, and Leyla… I think she doesn’t care about my appearance. Just like her mother, aunts, and grandmother don’t care about me.
Shaking my head and shaking off the disturbing memories of the wedding and, at the same time, the loneliest day of my life, I leave the bedroom.
Already on the stairs I hear the quiet laughter of a girl and voices coming from behind the closed door.
Who is she talking to? Has Idar really not left yet?
I carefully open the door and look into the kitchen.
Idar and Leila are standing at the stove, and the smell of burning hits my nose.
“Good morning,” I say, approaching them.
Idar turns to me, and I belatedly remember that I look unpresentable, so I hide my face in my hair.
“Hello,” his voice somehow sounds softer than usual.
“Nadya, help us!” Leila laughs. “Everything’s on fire here.”
I bend down and look into the frying pan.
“Who are these victims?” I smile, looking at the charred black flatbreads.
“These are syrniki,” Idar sighs.
I look up at him sharply:
— Are you making syrniki?
He squints slightly, scanning my face.
“I’m trying, as you can see. But something’s going wrong. Will you save us?” he asks ingratiatingly.
I walk around Leila and approach Idar from the other side. Next to him stands a deep bowl of mixed cottage cheese.
“You have to throw this out,” I point at the frying pan and roll up the sleeves of my robe. “And you need to add more flour here. And, Idar, give me a glass, I’ll show you how to make even circles for the syrniki.”
Leila turns off the stove, I add flour, and Idar places a glass in front of me.
“Here, look.” I twirl a lump of cottage cheese inside the glass, twisting it into a perfect circle.
“It’s magic!” Leila whispers, and I smile.
“It’s sleight of hand. And no fraud…”
“You’re a fairy savior, Nadya!” Leila claps her hands.
I place the syrniki in the frying pan and look up at Idar, who’s standing too close. I need his approval, I realize it.
– Thank you for saving us.
I nod in response and return to cooking.
I can’t help but wonder where Idar was yesterday when I got home. It’s a bit late for office work.
“Nadiya, what’s surprising to you? He’s not hiding another woman from you,” a nasty inner voice says admonishingly.
I’m finishing frying the syrniki without much joy. It’s good there’s no awkward silence between us—Leila chatters nonstop.
We sit down to breakfast. Idar is opposite me, Leila is next to me.
“These are my first syrniki! Nadya, can you give me the recipe?” the girl asks.
– Of course. It’s nothing complicated.
He meets Idar’s gaze again. I frown and lower my head to my plate, just to avoid looking at him again.
After breakfast, Leila runs off to her room to get ready for school, leaving Yunusov and I alone. And now the silence is simply deafening.
I start clearing the table, just so I don’t feel like I’m being interrogated.
— I gave orders regarding the ramp yesterday. It should be installed today.
“Thank you very much,” I turn to Idar. “When can I pick up my brother?”
“Next week, I think. We need to tidy up the only bedroom on the first floor. That’ll be done this weekend.”
– Thank you.
Idar turns to me and our eyes meet again.
Is it just me or is he too close to me? There’s not a meter between us, and I can smell his shower gel mixed with another scent.
And in general, this closeness gives me goosebumps.
“Stop thanking me,” he says coldly. “It’s a deal.”
I return to the dishes, standing sideways to him.
“Yes. A deal,” I say bitterly.
Na-di-ya. You have a deal, remember. He’ll help Nazar, and then you’ll discuss with him when it’s time to get a divorce. In a year? Or in two?
He’s in love with someone else, and you come down to earth.
— What time do you have to be at work today?
— By twelve.
I finish cleaning and head out.
– Nadiya.
He calls out to me and I turn around.
“Why were you crying yesterday?” Idar asks.
– Don’t worry. You weren’t the cause of this.
I’m leaving. Maybe everything isn’t what it seems, and my hurt runs deeper? Maybe these tears aren’t because of Misha at all, but because something else is smoldering inside, connected to a completely different man?
To be continued… Read Only:https://getamazonbooks.com/
