Rose Hathaway Point of View

Epilogue

For the first time in a few days, I was alone. Either Dimitri or Lissa—along with Christian, of course—were always with me, both because of the lost time and because they seemed to be afraid that I'd drop at any given moment. I had no such fears; I felt…good. Better than I had in weeks. Either way, I didn't dispute the behavior. I felt happier with them around and after the attack; my protective instincts ran so strong that I wouldn't have been able to bare being away from either one of them. Even Christian and I's banter was something I'd missed and was happy to have back, even though we got on each other's nerves a lot—that hadn't changed.

I watched Dimitri say goodbye to his family, smiling. There was something beautiful about the way they interacted; the way they all loved him like there was no tomorrow, something I could understand. Olena Belikova held him in her arms tightly and then let go, holding him at an arm's length. "You can always come home, мой сын," She told him, her words tainted by a thick Russian accent. I could see tears in her eyes and I thought мой сын loosely translated to 'my son.'

He placed a kiss on her forehead, which meant he had to literally bend over with his height. "I love you, Mamulya," Dimitri replied and they hugged again. More murmurings in Russian that I didn't make an effort to hear—I didn't need to. In whatever language, they all meant the same thing. I love you. I'll miss you.

When it came time for Yeva's goodbye I couldn't help but roll my eyes. She was so small next to him, so frail, yet so powerful. Despite my higher understanding of her now the old lady scared the hell out of me almost as much as she aggravated me. I had a hard time with anyone who claimed to know my future, especially when I had so little a clue. They both kept stealing glances at me and I had half a mind to walk over there and demand to know what her problem was now. Exhibiting a great show of control I let them be, settling for my unpleasant thoughts.

There was no need for me to say goodbye to the Belikovs—they were coming with me. I was going back to Russia with my team. I was going to get my stuff—the few meager belongings that I had-and then meet Lissa back at Court. No matter my status with Dimitri, I couldn't give up a chance to be her guardian—and Dimitri wouldn't let me. I didn't know what I was going to do—how it, how we were going to work, but how could I turn this down? Maybe we wouldn't stay together, maybe we couldn't, but being Lissa's guardian was something I'd dreamed of my entire life. And I couldn't—no, I wouldn't—leave her again. If I had to, I would choose her. After all of the times I'd chosen Dimitri over her, I would chose her if I had to—if Dimitri couldn't do what I'd asked.

The question was what if we could work? As I'd pointed out to Dimitri, him being Christian's guardian was basically the same thing as him being Lissa's. As long as they were together—as long as we were together, we were all in danger. I couldn't do that to Lissa or Christian, and I couldn't do that to him either. He'd said that maybe he could take the job at the Academy—and I knew how much of a sacrifice that was for him to make. It seemed that our lives would never be easy.

Lissa and Christian made their way over to me, and Lissa hugged me so tightly that I thought my lungs would combust. "Liss, I know that she's a big bad guardian and all, but you're going to break her," he joked, and I felt the familiar ting of surprise and honor that came to me every time someone associated me with the title of a 'guardian.' He smiled me, a friendly smile that reached his ice blue eyes and forced me to conclude that he actually wasn't as bad looking as I'd thought he was in the past. Being away from Lissa for two years had caused me to reevaluate him as a person—and to trust him in a way you'd trust your family—your brother, which is what I saw him to be. I'd had no other choice at the time, and even now that I was back by her side, I could appreciate that my best friend had someone who would love her almost as much as I did for the rest of her life. The thought inspired no jealously in me; only kind thoughts for both of my friends.

Her feelings pulsed into me as she smiled back, grudgingly letting me go. She was sad, sad that we were going to be apart—no matter how short the time—but also happy. Excited. Grateful. She was so happy to have me back—and so excited to start our lives together. The lives we were always supposed to have but were never granted. And the life I'd abandoned. I hugged her back just as tight—as if closing the space between us could make up for all the lost time. It couldn't—nothing could—but it was as good as it was going to get. "I can take it," I replied smiling, meeting Christian's eyes from over her shoulder. Thank you, I mouthed, even though I wasn't entirely sure what I was thanking him for.

Maybe for taking care of my best friend when I couldn't. Maybe for just being good for her—for being exactly what she needed.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was for just being my friend.

After a few minutes of hugging and casual talk—we avoided talking about my leaving again or anything else similarly depressing—my parents made their way over to me. Eddie and Mia were off doing couple things which made me smile. I'd see them whenever I got back. My Mom hugged me first and I thought I saw tears in her eyes. "You are coming back, right? You're not going to decide it's more fun slaying monsters in Russia or that you're too good for sophisticated life? You've got responsibilities. You're responsible for her." She looked at Lissa and then back at me, her eyes stern, but also benevolent in a way that only a mother could be. And she was my mother. And I was so, so glad that she was.

"Yes," I said, trying not to smile. Janine Hathaway was a serious woman, and despite the kindness in her eyes, she was being serious. "I'm going to come back. I'm going to be a guardian. I promise."

My father, ever so extraordinary, stared at me intimidatingly. "And what about Belikov? You love him?"

Next to the plane's doors, Dimitri stood shaking hands with Denis. I could scarcely hear them, but it sounded like he was saying thank you—like maybe he was thanking him for all the things I'd thanked Christian for. Maybe he was thanking him for taking care of me. For caring about me—maybe even against all odds. "Yeah, Dad, I do," I answered without hesitation. I think my sincere use of 'Dad' surprised him more than anything. "But I won't leave my family again." And it was true. This was just a trip—maybe the first of many—but Lissa and I had a bond we couldn't escape, for better or for worse and we were better fighting together than fighting apart. And as I was learning, she wasn't the only family I had. Somehow, lost in my pain over Dimitri, I'd lost sight of that.

My parents stared at me like I a child—like I was adorable and naive, two things Rose Hathaway most definitely wasn't. Or thought she wasn't. "Don't take the high ground and assume you already know what you'll do. The truth is, when it comes to someone you love, you'll find there isn't anything you won't do," Abe countered, sounding way more serious and wise than he had any right to be—way more serious and wise than I ever thought that he was capable of being. My views of my father—and well, my mother, too—were often one sided—something that would have to change. They had to. If they didn't, we would never have the kind of relationship Dimitri had with his mother—the kind I'd wanted all my life. And maybe they never would, but we would never have a chance if I kept seeing my father only as a scandalous and impertinent—the kneecap breaking type—(which he was) and my mother as a tough guardian with no feelings.

Janine nodded in agreement. "So if you have to leave—bring your family with you. Trust them to take-" Her words were cut off when my father kissed her full on-on the mouth. Right in front of me, which perhaps was the worst thing of all.

It was a kiss full of passion—one that was way too heated to go on in public. For a moment, Janine Hathaway—I kept asking myself if she was the woman in front of me—sank into the kiss. Christian made a bunch of noises that sounded vaguely like a cartoon character and I resisted the urge to smack him. After that, my mother broke the kiss, her cheeks flushed. I couldn't look at either of them, couldn't see the lust and love and god only knew what else in their eyes. I wouldn't. I couldn't—based on general principle.

Yet, my Dad's words rang in my mind. Don't take the high ground and assume you already know what you'll do. The truth is, when it comes to someone you love, you'll find there isn't anything you won't do. He was right—I knew was. In the same way I knew that Dimitri that realized that—maybe even before me—that love was irrational. My mother had said it before—and meant it. Love was irrational. And the more you cared about someone, the less sense anything made.

I began to realize that there were a lot of things I could have done, rather than run away. I could have stayed—in the comfort of my family—or if I'd had to leave, I could have kept in contact with them. They would've been there for me—I knew that now. I hadn't had to be alone. I'd chosen to be. Geographically, existentially… Alone. I'd built walls around me to make sure no one could break through. And now I knew just how tired I was of being alone.

"Ibrahim," my mother chided, her voice way too flirty for my liking.

I just hoped that I wouldn't be getting a surprise sibling any time soon.

Abe held my gaze then broke into an easy smile. ʺOf course, of course. This is a family gathering. And look: here's our newest member.ʺ Finally, Dimitri made his way over to me. I'd wanted to talk to him—I always wanted to talk to him—but dreaded it at the same time. I was afraid of what he'd say, what he'd do. Dimitri wore formal black and white, guardian wear, just like my Mom and I. He stood beside me, conspicuously not touching. ʺMr. Mazur, ʺ he said formally, nodding a greeting to both of them. ʺGuardian Hathaway.ʺ He finally looked at me, and I thought I saw something flirty in his eyes—then a minute later I came to the conclusion that I'd imagined it. "Guardian Hathaway," He repeated, sending me a soft smile that was reserved just for me. My heart fluttered.

"Can I walk you to the plane?" He asked me, sending my parents polite nods of acknowledgement, which didn't help my flailing emotions at all. A walk meant that whatever he was going to say, he didn't want to say in front of the others, yes, but it also meant that while there was a chance that I'd get a call in two weeks saying that out of the blue he'd realized that he could forgive himself and that we could be together, it wasn't likely. What was likely is that he'd be here or in Russia—anywhere away from me.

Dimitri was seven years older than me, but right then, facing my parents, he looked like he was sixteen and about to pick me up for a date.

ʺAh, Belikov,ʺ said Abe, shaking Dimitri's hand. ʺI'd been hoping we'd run into each other, I'd really like to get to know you better. Maybe we can set aside some time to talk, learn more about life, love, et cetera. Do you like to hunt? You seem like a hunting man. That's what we should do sometime. I know a great spot in the woods. Far, far away. We could make a day of it. I've certainly got a lot of questions I'd like to ask you. A lot of things I'd like to tell you too.ʺ

I shot a panicked look at my mother, silently begging her to stop this. I did not want Abe taking Dimitri off alone into the wilderness, especially if firearms were involved.

ʺActually,ʺ said my mom casually. ʺI'd like to come along. I also have a number of questions—especially about when you two were back at St. Vladimirʹs.ʺ

ʺDon't you guys have somewhere to be?ʺ I asked hastily. ʺI need to get going." That, at least, was true. My team was already on the plane, and the Belikovs were boarding now. It was time to go.

ʺOf course, ʺ said Abe, with no more talk of the words or Dimitri's impending doom. To my astonishment, he brushed a kiss over my forehead before stepping away. ʺI'm glad you're back.ʺ Then, with a wink, he said to Dimitri: ʺLooking forward to our chat.ʺ

Resisting an urge to cringe, I nodded and said a final goodbye to my parents and Lissa and Christian, catching her eye before I walked away. I expected sympathy through the bond—but I felt none. She knew something.

We were walking towards the plane—and I dreaded each step that brought me closer to it. In fact, I tried to slow our pace. Dimitri stayed with me—like he understood that I wanted to cherish whatever moments that we had together. His hand caught mine and I didn't let go, didn't pull away. How could I? How could I when I was getting on a plane that would take me away for him? Just a trip, I reminded myself. It was true. I would be coming back. But would he be there?

The silence was comfortable between us, like it always was, but I got the feeling that he was trying to tell me something, trying to put the words together in his head. "You don't have to give me any answers yet. Take your time. Just…just let me know," I said truthfully , before he would put some string of words together that would inevitably destroy me in an entirely different way than his first ones had.

Love fades. Mine has.

I didn't want any answers. I didn't want to lose him—it was better to have this time with him than no time at all. Love also grew, I kept reminding myself. But was that love enough?

This didn't seem to calm him. We'd reached the ramp—it was time to stay goodbye. We didn't have time now—we never had time. Never had time to say what we wanted, do what we wanted. We were always out of time. I wanted to kiss him, but while that felt so, so right, it wasn't right right now. I was afraid that it would be a goodbye kiss, and I didn't want to say goodbye. So instead I buried my head into his chest and let him put his arms around me, taking comfort in the warmth they brought me.

I tried to think of words to say, words to make him understand all of the emotions that were pulsing through me. It didn't matter—he probably knew anyway—but I had to say something. Something worth saying, something that would stick with him while I had his attention, something that would feel as right as this embrace did and as right as his voice sounded when he softly murmured "Roza" into my hair.

Maybe I could tell him that I forgave him—I'd said it before and meant it, but it was something he could never hear enough. Or maybe I could tell him that I needed him, as selfish and unforgivable as it was. When I spoke, I said none of these things. Instead, I let him press a kiss to my forehead and murmured softly to him, for his ears only, "I love you. I've never stopped loving you. And I'm going to get on this plane, hopeless but hoping, and pray that you know that. You have to know that."

Something shifted in his features and I broke away, afraid that if I didn't now I wouldn't have the strength to. "I know."

I turned my back to him and walked up the ramp, handing the man my ticket and luggage that wasn't carry on. Slowly but surely he opened the door, waiting for me to enter.

"Miss?" He asked when I didn't. "Guardian Hathaway?"

Even though I knew better, I had to look back. Dimitri was still standing at the end of the ramp, his heart in his eyes. I watched him, waiting. Waiting for something. Waiting for anything. "Give me a sec," I said to the man, and locked eyes with Dimitri. I didn't want an answer—I'd meant that. Yet, here I was waiting for one.

We were same. That didn't change as we looked at each other and watched, both hungry and scared to hope. I started toward him and we met in the middle…hoping. Hopeless but hoping, just as I'd said. "I don't think I can…" He began and then trailed off; I nodded, feeling the rejection coming in loud and clear. I turned away so that he wouldn't see the sparkling water in my eyes that mixed with the hopelessness, or the clear pain in my expression. Dimitri tried to gather his words and then started to talk again, halted only when I rested my finger on his lips, not wanting to hear anymore—being unable to hear anymore, hoping my face was blank.

"Okay. Then I'll… We can…" The thought made me sick. He tipped my chin up to look in my eyes, what I'd been hoping to avoid because tears were on the verge of escaping. "I'll…"

He caressed my cheek softly, his beautiful eyes dark with thought. "Oh, Roza… No. Let me finish. I don't think that I can…I don't think that I can live without you."

Hope fleeted through me and a tear escaped. He wiped it away and studied my face, looking for something. Maybe he was looking for resignation…or maybe for joy. I had a feeling that neither of those were there because his words stunned me and I refused to let them sink in just yet. Most likely he just saw severe surprise and hope.

"So…what are you saying?

"I'm saying that I forgive myself. It's not perfect, but it's a start."

More tears were falling, but I didn't care. I didn't know what was going to happen. I wasn't in control of my future. Hell, I wasn't in control of anything or anyone, but I didn't care. I had Dimitri. And he'd forgiven himself. That meant more than knowing that we were going to be together, meant more than even the fact that now we had time. "Dimitri, I love you. God… I love you so much," I cried, a smile spreading from one side of my lips to the other. There was something hysterical in my voice, which didn't surprise me. I'd wanted him for so long, yearned for him so long…why should I start believing now?

I waited for him to kiss me, I moved forward for him to, but he didn't. Instead he took my hands and said the one thing I never would have expected to hear him say. "I asked your father for permission, you know. He said that it didn't matter what he said—you'd do whatever you wanted to do anyway."

I asked your father for permission, you know. "What? Permission to what? What are you talking about?"

"And he's right," He continued, in spite of my confusion. "You're going to do whatever you want. And that's why I'm not going to ask a question. I'm not going to get down on one knee—there's no need to. There is no need for us to respect tradition because this isn't traditional. We aren't traditional. And you…you are beyond anything and everything that even begins to explain tradition."

My breath hitched and I watched him pull out a ring, a sparkly, beautiful ring that made no sense in the barren landscape, a sparkle that made no sense in his eyes, eyes that were impossibly long lashed. "I love you, Roza, моя любовь," Dimitri said, using the Russian phrase for 'my love.' "And I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

My brain could only begin to register what he was saying, what he was asking as he slid the ring on my finger for me to admire. He was telling me that he wanted to be with me forever. He was telling me that he wanted to tie his life to mine in every way possible. He was telling me all of these things both through his eyes and through his words, things that I'd wanted to hear all of my life but also things I'd been afraid of.

Before I could make some stupid joke and ruin the moment or turn sappy and say something sickeningly sweet I simply replied, in a soft but firm tone, "And I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Dimitri did kiss me then, a kiss that was slow at first but then became fast and furious, filled with passion and adventure; love and lust. It tasted of him and the salt from my tears, but also of an impossible joy. I put my arms around his neck and let him pick me up to where I could wrap my legs around him, somehow managing to smile, laugh, and kiss him at the same time. And in that moment… I swear, we were infinite.

Vaguely, of in the distance I could hear cheers, cheers of people who were only realizing and people who had known all along. And then later, at our special place, Dimitri Belikov took advantage of me. Or I took advantage of him. He…no.

Well, somebody took advantage.

I didn't mind.

THE END.

(A/N I can't begin to thank all of you for continually reading this story and bearing with me when life got/gets in the way. I'm so sorry that it has taken me so long to figure out a way to finish it and I hope that it ended in a way that you didn't expect or in the way you wanted it to. I would love ideas for future stories and comments on how I can improve my writing or how I can improve my stories in the future. I love you guys so much—thank you. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU. I love you guys. As always, R&R!)