𝟐𝟐. ✭ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈 ✭

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Every night I wait for this moment, the moment when I am able to spend time with my son. I'm usually being watched like a hawk by my mother but tonight I'll have the 'pleasure' of my father doing so. I imagine he'll be monitoring me with a much more critical eye. He seems to love pointing out all of my flaws these days, like he had at dinner tonight.

"Come here, my beautiful boy." I undo the restraints of his highchair before picking him up into my arms. The way he clings to me automatically, snuggling his face in my neck, makes my heart grow ten times it size. It brings tears to my eyes. It makes me feel like maybe being here isn't the most terrible thing in the world, not if I get to hold my son in my arms like this.

We walk up the staircase to his playroom silently, Wolf nuzzling into me even deeper while I relish in his scent. This room made for Wolf is just as luxurious as it had been at the Warner-Riley home. Parts of the compound have nearly all the opulence and grandeur that Torey's parents' house does. It's just built into the side of a mountain, you know, because it's supposed to be a fortress and everything. I suppose I could have worse surroundings, be made to stay in a cell like a wild animal as I had those first two weeks.

"What do you want to play with this evening, Wolfie?" I ask as I set him down on his little legs. He stands there pondering for a moment, staring at me with eyes that are bright blue and wider than the horizon. "Hmm? We could play with the blocks. I know they're your favorite." I walk over to them and kneel down, patting the spot next to me.

"Mama loje bllok." The sound of him speaking the language of my childhood makes me want to burst into tears. It always does but I never do.

"Yes, Wolfie. I want to play blocks with you." He quickly runs over to me, pure excitement all over his face. "See this one, it's a blue block. Can you say blue block?"

"Boo bok." The sound of his little voice trying to formulate words is something I could listen to a million times over.

"That was close enough." I muss his hair as I hand it over to him. "It's a blue block and the color reminds me of your eyes." And his eyes remind me of a certain someone. Thankfully, that someone is still alive. "Did you know your eyes are blue?" He just blinks at me a few times before going back to play, not caring about eye color. I don't blame him. When I was little I didn't care about it either.

"Why don't you speak to him in Albanian? Tatyana wants him to learn the language, as do I. If he's to fill my shoes one day he's going to have to be bilingual at least." My father didn't sound angry or irritated with me for a change. His tone was just matter-of-fact.

"I want him to be familiar with both." I look back to my father after Wolf empties out an entire container of blocks with a squeal. "All he hears around here is Albanian. If he's to be bilingual he needs to be spoken to in more than one language."

"Mmm, fair enough." That response is a surprise to me as is the passive demeanor my father currently has. After another quiet minute he speaks up again. "The exchange between you and Tristan at tonight's dinner was interesting. What was that about?"

"I'm not quite sure what you're referring to." I focus on the blocks in my hand trying to build a sort of giraffe-looking type of animal that Wolf seems to love. Seems because he admires it and then he completely destroys it.

"You spoke of love and loyalty with him in a very passionate manner. Do you not think you could give those things back to your family?"

"I already have, baba. I am here. I do not plan to leave." Wolf claps his hands when he recognizes what I'm trying to make. He grabs a few blocks and tries to mimic the creature I am creating but he has a hard time connecting one block underneath another. "Like this." I show him how to connect them and when he can't he crosses his arms over his chest with a pout. "No no. What have I told you about getting mad and giving up? You can do it! Give it another try!" The semi-glare he throws at me reminds me so much of Torey I have to laugh. I can only imagine if he were here to see it. When he manages to stack them the correct way I clap my hands which has him wearing the broadest smile.

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