Page 31

MIA

It’s been a week since I’ve last heard from Yulian.

A week since the best sex of my life.

A week since he broke my heart.

I haven’t been sending in my daily selfies. Call me petty, but I don’t particularly feel like posing for the man who stomped all over my feelings.

Not that I even had feelings, but—okay, fine, it’s complicated. Capital C and all.

Let’s stick to the facts, shall we?

Fact: I don’t love Yulian. How could I? He’s selfish, rude, bossy, and always acts like he’s owed the world. I couldn’t stand being in a relationship with a guy like that. I’ve already done it once, and it ended with me faking a miscarriage, changing my name, and packing up my life.

Not exactly “happily ever after” material.

But after last night… I was vulnerable. I was raw. It’s not like I expected breakfast in bed and cuddles, but the way he treated me? It made me feel cheap. Replaceable. Like everything we’d done was just another transaction between us, and I was the only one who hadn’t gotten the memo.

It was humiliating.

“Hurry up, Mommy!” Eli bounces up and down at the door, backpack already strapped to his tiny shoulders. “We’re gonna be late for my first day of school!”

I snap back to the present and grab my keys. “Coming!”

As we walk out the door, I glance at the hidden camera on the wall. It’s too small to be seen, but I bribed Boris to show me the exact spot he planted it. After all, if I’m not the mark, why shouldn’t I know where it is?

I blink at it once, twice. I considered learning how to spell “fuck you” in Morse code, but figured it was too much effort for the intended audience.

Here’s your selfie, asshole.

Then I take my kid downstairs.

He spends the car ride in a state of bouncy excitement. His juice spills everywhere on the upholstery, but I can’t quite find it in me to scold him. Seeing him so happy makes me happy, too.

Happier than I’ve been in a long time.

The second I drop him off, he hurtles towards the playground like a bullet, calling out the names of his new friends. “Ally! Marcus!”

“Eli!” The little girl with cornrows waves, flashing a gap-toothed grin. I remember her as the one who begged me to let Eli stay the day we came to visit. That must be Ally.

The kid next to her—Marcus, I suppose—doesn’t lift his gaze from his video game, but once Eli’s there, he shifts to make room, letting him watch.

His first friends.

That realization hits me all at once. I’m on the verge of the ugliest cry in Single Mom history. Eyes red, nose dripping, blubbery and ugly and just overwhelmed.

My son turns to wave goodbye, his smile brighter than I’ve seen it in ages, and I notice it’s the first time he doesn’t linger by me.

The first time he doesn’t cling to my leg, or ask when I’ll be back to get him.

He just grins.

Then he turns and goes to play.

“Emotional first day?” Principal Garcia appears at my side, eyes crinkling behind his thick glasses.

“Sort of.” I quickly wipe the tears away with the back of my hand. “It’s just… It’s been a while since I’ve seen him like this.”

“Kids here band together fast,” he says. “They’re drawn to each other. The quirks that push others away out there—they’re the same thing that makes children click together in here.”

“Same wavelength, huh?”

“In a way.” He nods towards a couple of kids hanging out by themselves. “There are those who prefer solitude, and that’s all perfectly fine, but there’s peace in knowing you can have that here without being ostracized for it. And then, sometimes, those solitary kids learn to be solitary together.”

He points at the sandbox, where a little girl is drawing shapes and another is counting ants just outside of it, in the grass. They aren’t speaking or looking at each other, but their silence doesn’t feel tense at all. “Parallel play. We encourage that a lot.”

Suddenly, I’m reminded of Eli coloring by my side while I sort the bills. The lump in my throat grows tighter.

“I… I can see why.”

After I’ve collected myself, Principal Garcia shows me the way to the accounting department.

I thank him and bid him goodbye, then step up to the front desk. “Mia Winters. I’m here to pay for my son’s tuition.”

“Little Eli, right?” The woman at the front desk grins. “We’ve got his registration papers right here. So thrilled to have you join our little family here.”

I spend a couple of minutes filling in everything—birth date, allergies, family details. I write my contact information on the “Parent/Guardian #1” field.

The second one, I leave empty.

Instead, I add Kallie and Reese’s contact info under “ Others .” I tick the box for pick-up so they’ll be allowed to bring him home if I can’t. After a moment’s hesitation, I also add Tamara’s name, just to be safe.

On the fourth empty row, my fingers start writing a “Y,” but I quickly cross it out.

Let’s not get carried away, right?

“Here you go,” I tell the clerk.

“Perfect!” She gives a satisfied nod and tucks the papers away. “Will you require a payment plan for the tuition? We have a very good one that breaks it up in five installments over the year, no interest.”

She says it without the slightest hint of judgment. Like this isn’t just a rich kids’ school, but one that tries to be fair.

Wouldn’t have made a lick of difference without Yulian’s money, though.

I banish all thoughts of Yulian from my mind and shake my head. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll pay in full.”

I sign the check and hand it over. The number of zeroes still makes my head spin, but I feel light, too. Almost dizzy with excitement.

I just paid Eli’s tuition in full. Pride swells in my heart.

Right on its heels is relief. I could do this for him. For my kid.

All thanks to…

As I walk out, taking a deep breath of fancy Upper West Side air, I think back to that night. How good it felt to be touched, to be wanted.

Then I think back to this morning. How happy Eli was to meet his friends again, how kind Principal Garcia was to me. I think back to all the ice creams and pizzas I could buy Eli last month, to his new and final pair of basketball shoes, to his shiny new toys.

To Tamara, saving my ass from CPS.

That was all Yulian’s doing, too. Despite how cold he was to me, he also thought of me. Thought about my needs. If he hadn’t sent Tamara, I wouldn’t be taking my kid to school today. Wouldn’t be taking him anywhere.

Slowly, all the anger I’ve been nursing starts to ebb away. Yulian Lozhkin… I don’t understand him. Most likely, I never will.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t be grateful to him.

Before I can think better of it, I lift up my phone and snap a selfie.

First day of school. Couldn’t have swung this without you, so… thank you. For everything.

It’s not quite forgiveness, but it’s as close as he’ll get.

Our relationship is work. I need to remember that. What happened that night… It was just a one-time thing. Unpredictable, unstoppable, unforgettable—but also unrepeatable.

As long as I don’t get too close again, I’ll be fine.

Because, if I do, there’s no way to tell what’s going to happen. Whether I’ll get frostbitten…

… or burned to ashes.