The Memory Keeper of Kyiv (99)

Katya stared into his eyes, her grief mirrored there like twin pools of anguish. She felt the pain emanating from him in waves, but another, foreign feeling accompanied it. She cocked her head, appraising him and trying to control her racing pulse at the same time. Did he feel as she did?

Kolya took her chin in his hand and tilted her face toward his mouth. He paused, waiting to see if she would resist or participate, and when she softened, pliable in his embrace, he gave a strangled groan of defeat. Their lips met and Katya tasted the salty tears of their shared losses, and something more. Something promising. Feelings she’d thought long dead unfurled in her cold heart like a flower opening its petals to the sun on the first day of spring. Whispers of the possibilities of a new life, a new love, filled her soul, and the sudden yearning for him made her dizzy.

He pulled back. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Katya slowly exhaled, then reached up and touched his lips. He kissed her fingers, then leaned his face into her palm. She didn’t understand why or how this could have happened, but she knew it to be the truth with every fiber of her being. She wanted him. She loved him.

“Yes,” she said. Then, she pressed her lips to his.

They clung to each other, two lost souls in a broken world, seeking solace in the most unlikely of partners.

They continued spending their nights together, physically connecting as much as they could with their frail, broken bodies, their hearts slowly coming back to life. But in the light of day, Kolya barely spoke to her, and when he did, it was never of what happened in the dark. So, she suppressed her confusion and went on as if nothing had changed, counting the hours until nightfall, when she could come alive again in his arms.





“Are you ready to go to the collective?” Kolya called from the door.

“Go ahead without me. I have some things to do here.” Katya stared at him, waiting for him to say more. To ask her to come along. To tell her he wanted to spend time with her.

But he said nothing. Just like every day. They’d still never spoken of their physical relationship. During the day, it was as if the love they shared at night didn’t exist and maintaining the charade of indifference during the day was wearing on her. She wanted to talk about it. She wanted to know how he felt. To tell him how she felt. But her battle-weary heart didn’t have the strength to fight for its desires anymore.

She waited twenty minutes, then made her way to her assigned potato field and sat Halya on the side of it with the other children. There was none of the typical running and playing, but every now and then, the soft chortle of a child’s laughter reached her ears and gave Katya hope. It did little to take her mind off Kolya, but the cadence of the work suited her, and she tried to focus on the motion of her body instead of the thoughts running rampant in her head.

When the field was done and they were dismissed to go home for the day, she could no longer silence her worries. How could she ever explain that she’d taken her sister’s life? She’d married her husband, raised her child, and now had the audacity to fall in love? To try to start a new life with the shattered remains of what they’d once been.

How could anyone forgive that?

Kolya broke through the fog of her mind as he shook her arm, concern on his face. “Katya, did you hear me? I’m heading to the horse barn. I promised Halya I’d bring her there to see the new horses they brought in. We’ll be home later.” He leaned close and peered into her face. “Are you well?”

Katya nodded fast, perhaps too fast. His hand scorched her, made her want to press against him, tell him of her love, her secrets. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you at the house.”

But she couldn’t bear going inside yet, where Kolya’s presence lingered on every surface—the cup he drank from, the chair he sat in, the bed they shared. Instead, she climbed into the barn loft, where she’d spent so many hours dreaming and talking with Pavlo, tucked away in their little nest of safety, and retrieved her journal from its hiding place in the wall.

The smell of sun-dried hay and memories of Pavlo enveloped her like a warm hug. She filled her lungs with the sweet scent as an ache rose in her throat. She could almost hear his voice echoing as she walked toward the big door that looked out over the barnyard.

Katya, stay here with me always. We don't need to think about what's going on out there. Here, we are safe, and we have each other. Maybe we'll never come down.

Someday I'd like a house, though, she’d teased back. It would be a hard thing to raise our children in a barn loft.

She pushed the door open, and sunlight flooded into the room. From her high vantage point, Katya could see Pavlo and Kolya’s old farm.

Pavlo’s voice whispered in her ear.

Then you shall have the grandest house. There, see that open spot over there? My father told me he will give it to me as a wedding present. We will build our home there. A strong, solid house filled with our babies. Our children will run through these fields like we did. Can you see it?

Tears filled her eyes. Katya couldn't see it anymore. She used to see it as clear as day. Now, Pavlo’s face blurred with Kolya’s and confused her.

I want flowers all around the house. Poppies and sunflowers.

Then we shall plant them.

She pressed her lips against the journal cover and let the words inside soak into her soul. Her memories. Her love story. Her Pavlo.