Her whole body was trembling as she held me close. I gently pulled away. “You are cold,” I declared. Her lips chattered and her skin was icy to the touch.
“You needed me,” she replied softly, her fingers combing through my hair. Taking a deep breath, Talia lost her laughter, and said, “I was extremely close to my grandmother, Zaal. As a child, and right up until her death a few years ago.” I froze as Talia began to mention her family. Talia shuffled on my lap, moving in closer.
“She and I were kindred spirits. She was feisty, and never walked the line”—Talia laughed—“just like me. I’ve never been good at obeying my father’s strict rules.” Talia’s fingers stopped stroking my hair. She was lost in her memories. “I grew up knowing only the story my family told me of our family’s conflict. The one where the Georgians used to be part of the Vor V Zakone, the soviet Thieves in Law, until they turned coat. I knew how the Kostavas, the Jakhuas, and the Volkovs all worked together as one unit. And I was told the story of how the Volkovs took the turf in New York, but banned the Georgians from joining them, taking the territory as their own, leaving the Jakhuas and Kostavas to run Moscow.” Talia sighed, shook her head, and continued, “And I know that your father, out of anger for this slight against his faction, organized to murder the Volkov bosses when they were next to visit home. But my grandfather ended up going alone to Moscow on the fated trip when Jakhua and your father planned the murder to send a message. It was my grandfather your father shot and hung from a street post for everyone in Russia to see. And it was my grandmother that lost the love of her life that day, all so the Georgians could show their strength against the Russians.”
I tensed listening to the story from the Russian point of view, but as Talia’s hand began moving through my hair again, I tried to relax.
Talia shifted again, laying her head against my chest, and said, “I imagine your family hated being left out of the New York business. And I imagine after they were hunted down after my grandfather’s murder and forced back to Georgia, all trade routes cut by the Volkov Bratva, that your family and the Jakhuas became more resentful toward us than ever.” Talia’s hand slid down my face from my hair and she lifted my chin with her fingers, lifting her head to meet my eyes. “I imagine growing up as the Kostava heir, you were filled with an intense hatred for my family.”
I nodded silently. Talia’s lips tightened.
“I know this because I’ve had a great hatred for your family my whole life, Zaal.” Talia laughed a humorless laugh. “And I can honestly say it has brought me nothing but pain.” Talia’s finger stroked over the moles below my left eye, and asked, “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to let go of that hatred now. Those people back then were not us. It was a lifetime ago, a history that we can’t change.” Her chin dropped. “I know your version of that story will no doubt differ from mine, but I pray it ends the same. With you wanting me, with you being with me despite our surnames causing a drift.”
I stayed unmoving for the longest time, listening to the sea, feeling the cold wind hit my skin. Talia didn’t say anything more, but I knew one thing: I felt exactly the same.
Taking Talia’s freezing hand, I got to my feet, pulling her with me.
As we stood wrapped in the wind, Talia looked up at my face and asked, “You feel the same? Even after you remember your family?”
I nodded my head, unable to speak. I felt drained, numb. But I knew I wanted this female above anything else.
“You need to rest,” Talia said on a relieved sigh, and took my hand. She turned to walk us back to the house, but I needed to express something from the heart. I pulled on Talia’s hand. She turned to face me, her beautiful face confused.
I lifted my hand over my chest and rasped, “To me, you are not a Tolstaia.”