Ivan is pacing in his study and it's driving Anya mad.

Step, step, pivot, turn. Step, step, pivot, turn.

It was going to drive her into an early grave.

Her own children were much well behaved than Ivan and they were six and ten respectively. She set her book down in her lap, watching as her brother toyed with the blue ribbon in his hand, twisting the fabric till the edges started to fray. His expression said it all. Anyone could see how torn up he was inside, the guilt and worry was eating away at him like termite in a bog wooden house.

It's been months since the incident with Zoya. Now that he was gone, the constant pressure had eased slowly. Things would get better slowly. There were less attacks on their men and their businesses, their stock prices managed to go up now there was more faith in them, and the board members were no longer looking to sell their shares and jump ship.

Anya hoped for a new normal where she wouldn't have to watch her back every five minutes. Now she just wished that her brother wasn't such a coward and actually chased his one chance of happiness.

"How long are you going to pace like that?" She snapped, irritated with him. "You're driving me up the wall."

His footstep faltered for a second before resuming. "I'm not pacing. I'm thinking."

Anya frowned. At this point she was wondering if she was going to have lines on her face by the age of thirty five.

"So you're just taking a walk around the room to ease your thoughts then?" Anya got up, slamming the book on the table. Ivan stopped in his tracks, his shoulders coming up to his ears defensively. "Or are you just going to stare at that stupid blue ribbon till you waste away?"

Ivan scowled. He turned around sharply on his heels. She expected a reaction out of Ivan. Anger. Resentment. Something! Instead he stared down at the ribbon entwined between his fingers. He opened his mouth, and then closed it quickly. Whatever it was that he wanted to say, Anya hoped he would ask soon because she was heroic impatient with his indecisiveness. It wasn't fair to anyone——especially Meera.

She remembered the morning she went to see her and how much her heart ached for her.

*****

Meera was sitting in her hospital room, tired and silent.

The hospital room was big enough to fit two families. There was a small pull out couch and a tv that was running some game show about wheels and fortune. The fluorescent lights made the room look smaller than it actually was, casting an artificial glow over everything. In the corner was Meera laid out on the bed, a blanket draped over her lap as she stared outside the window. Her eyes followed the people in the streets below, watching with disinterest.

Meera is strong.

Anya knew from the moment that she saw the young woman at the restaurant that she was resilient. Her eyes looked so tired but somehow she managed to smile at Anya, cracking a joke and being charming. Being strong all the time must have been exhausting. Anya knew that feeling well, sometimes she just wanted to sit in the garden and stare at the flowers all day. No family business, not siblings with issues, and no overwhelming stares of people following you every single fucking day.

The Meera she had met for the interview and the Meera in the hospital bed were still the same. Both of them were still strong but in very different ways. This Meera was just......tired.

"Anya," Meera greeted her. She gave her a small smile that looked like she had scraped from the bottom of soul to muster up. "You look tired."

She felt the corner of her lips quirk up at her effort. "Meera, you look more tired than me. I didn't think that was possible."

"Do you ever want to stop and just do nothing?" She asked. "Cause I do. I don't know why—I'm not about to muster any energy to do anything."

"All the time." Anya said, sitting down. "There's a garden in my home. I go there to think. It's easier to process my thoughts alone, away from everybody and everything."

"But you're here instead." Meera sighed and sat up. Anya reached out to fluff the pillows. "With me, full of people who have a worse prognosis than I do."

" I wanted to see how you were." Anya said, "And most of all, I wanted to apologize. It's because of us that you were hurt. We should've been more carful."

Ivan should've been more careful is what Anya wanted to say but she held her tongue.

"An apology from you won't fix anything but I appreciate it." Meera nodded at her hand. "A broken rib and some bruises. Trust me when I say that I've had worse. You can stop feeling guilty for something that was out of your control."

Anya narrowed her eyes. Meera's right hand was still bandaged and she could see the bandages poking out from underneath her hospital gown. A broken rib is nothing, it would take time to recover but it wasn't life ending. She was more worried about her mind. Anya had read the file, she knew what happened in London and why Meera hates red roses. Every detail of her life written down on it. She knew well before Meera had even arrived to New York that she was going to be hired. Meera was unique, she had the experience—not just as a surgeon but as someone who was familiar with this kind of life.

She knew that Meera would get hurt. It was only a matter of time.......but not like this. Not by her own brother and his false sense of nobility.

Meera would survive. She always had.

Anya considered herself to be perceptive. She had to be. There was no way she missed the looks that Ivan and Meera shared, it was obvious even in a crowded room full of people. The longing and the small smiles, Anya worried for the longest tome over that.

At first she thought it was a terrible idea, the both of them were so different. Anya thought that they'd only make each other unhappy. Ivan didn't have a good track record when it came to relationship and Meera was running away from hers. It was logical that they should never meet. But they did.

The more she observed, the more she grew to understand that she was wrong.

Ivan smiled more when Meera was around. It was like something lit up in him whenever he saw her. Meera was the same. She always carried this tension in her, it weighed her down like invisible chain. But when she was with Ivan, it was like all that doubt and worry vanished from her eyes.

Anya had been in love before. She had that for a brief moment before it had been ripped away from her. At least she had her children to share her love with. She knew what it was like to simply just be with someone——no words, just the sound of their breath and a shared look full of understanding.

Ivan and Meera were like two tangents destined to meet at a certain point.

"Why aren't you asking me about him?" Anya asked Harshly. She crumpled the material of her skirt with her hands. "You should be asking me about him."

At that, Meera gave her a bitter smile. "What's the point? He's gone."

"You don't know that." She scowled.

"He didn't even call." Meera turned her head, looked at the vase of flowers on the table. The petals were littered around the base, their edges were starting to fray. "I should cut my loses. Maybe it's a sign."

"He's an idiot." Anya frowned. "Ivan is such an idiot! He doesn't deserved you! What's the point of you don't fight for someone?!"

Meera reached out her hand and plucked her fingers from the material of her skirt. Her touch felt cold against Anya's skin. "Anya, can you tell me how he is?"

"What?"

"How is Ivan?" She asked. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"No, I am going to answer be I owe you that," Anya sat up straighter, feeling the rush of anger return. "Ivan isn't sleeping well. He keeps pacing in his study. He's distracted. It's pissing me off."

"Oh."

"He misses you."

"Then why hasn't he come to see me?"

Anya sighed. "I don't know."

"Neither do I." She turned her head, staring at the tv. "Am I pathetic?"

"No."

"Then why do I feel so pathetic." Meera asked, the tears gathering in her eyes. Anya didn't know what she should even say to that. "I feel like I'm only existing these days. Why am I like this Anya? Why is it so hard to get up? All I want to do is stay down and never get back up..."

Anya didn't have an answer for that.

*****

"How is she?"

Anya bristled at that question. She was so sick of everyone asking that question.

She brushed past Ivan, nearly shoving him to the ground. "Maybe if you would get your shit together then maybe Meera wouldn't——" She closed her lips quickly, gripping the doorframe with white knuckles. "I wish you would stop being such a martyr. All you do is give and give and give. When you you finally take something?"

"Meera wouldn't what?" Ivan asked cautiously. "Anya?"

She turned around, giving him a cold look. "Maybe she wouldn't think that she was being abandoned by someone who cared for her."

"What?"

"God, you're an idiot! Nik it right!" Anya grabbed a book and threw it at him. "I don't have to explain it! I'm so sick of your moping!"

Ivan ducked, the book sailing past his head. "What the hell, Anya?!"

She picked up the closest object which was an apple from the fruit bowel. Anya just chucked at his head, entirely done with his shit. "Why can't you just admit that you like her, damnit! It's so obvious that you miss her! She's right there, you moron! Go after her! Stop pushing her away!"

Ivan held up a tea tray, defending himself from the onslaught of books and fruit. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"You don't have to be like dad! You don't have to keep those you love at a distance because you're scared something will happen to them!" Anya raised her voice. "You're not Dad, Ivan! You're you! Just do what you want for once in your life! Be happy, goddamnit!"

"It's not that easy!" He yelled back.

"Oh, I think it is!" Anya screamed back, grabbing another book.

"You never understood! You've had it easy!"

Anya felt her temper explode.

She dropped the book in her hand and stalked up to Ivan, her voice raising higher and higher in pitch. She didn't care if everyone could hear them having a row with each other. "Had it easy? What part of my life was easy?! I lost my career! I lost my husband! And I lost members of my own family! You think I enjoy being in your shadow?! You think I enjoy staying away from my own children?!" She shoved Ivan. "You utter clueless asshole! I've sacrificed a lot of things to keep this family together! Don't you dare tell me that I've had it easy! I haven't!"

Anya took a deep breath in, counted to ten and let it out slowly through her nose. She turned her back to her brother, clutching her arms around herself.

"You know what's the worst part, I hate how I forced you into this role because I ran away. I blame myself because I couldn't protect your from our fathers expectations."

These last few years had been difficult——and it seemed all of a sudden that she was feeling the weight of it all hanging off her. Anya stood straight and turned around, facing towards the gardens. She had spent months planting and pruning till the garden was bright and vibrant with foliage. It had always been a calming force, a safe space. But now, it just reminded her of the emotions she kept pushing back down.

"Anya?" She heard Ivan take a cautious step towards her. She felt her world lurch as her chest tightened. "ANYA!"

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her up as her legs finally gave way. They collapsed to the floor, Anya sobbing silently into her hers and Ivan holding onto her for dear life.

"God, Anya!" Ivan rocked her back and forth, his hand between her shoulder blades. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Breathe with me."

Her chest felt so tight and the air was trapped in her lungs.

Anya remembered the last time she had a panic attack. She was 20, only two years into college and pregnant. The fear came first followed by the disappointment and shame. That had been the darkest period of her life. She didn't like thinking about that time. Her father hadn't talked to her for a year—not because she was pregnant but because she had run away to London.

Ivan became the heir. And she saw how it crushed his dream. No more college, no more poems, and no more smiles. Their father was a good father but he was also a monster too. He took Ivan and within a short time, made him into something that no longer resembled her sweet and charming little brother.

Eventually the grandfather clock rang loudly, it's call echoing through the study. Anya felt air enter into her lungs normally, it felt like breaking the surface after being submerged after so long.

Ivan still had his arms around her. At this point she didn't know who was crying. The shoulder of her shirt felt wet.

"I'm sorry." She croaked out. "I lost my temper again."

"I had it coming." Ivan said, holding onto her hand. "I shouldn't have said any of that. You're my sister. I know you'll always have my back."

"I still think you're an idiot."

"Everyone in our family is calling me that. And...I know I am/

Anya narrowed her eyes. "Gee, I wonder why," she said weakly in a sarcastic tone. "You need to figure this out. It's not fair to her, Ivan. Don't make her suffer because of your fears. You need to forget whatever bullshit dad taught you about love. If you act like this, you'll have no one by your side."

He hung his his head, avoiding her eyes. "I don't think meera would ever look at me. She probably hates me."

"Ivan, listen to me." She said gently. "I know what it's like to lose someone you love. Don't take the time you shared for granted. There's moments you'll never be able to get back. I don't want you to have the same regrets that I did."

"I'm sorry about him." Ivan said, glancing down at her wedding ring. "He must've meant so much to you."

Anya smiled sadly, staring down at the ring on her hand. She had refused to take it off for a moment. "You have no idea. He was my everything—my best friend, my lover, and my greatest rival." She said, her tone wistful. "I had eight wonderful years with him. Time adds value to things, but sometimes it makes your regret more. He was the one thing I was willing to give everything up for and when he was gone....."

Ivan held her hand, squeezing gently. "I wish I could've met him."

"Me too." Anya said. "You would've liked him. He was a history professor. If it wasn't for dad, I think the both of you would've been good friends."

"He was a good man." Ivan said. "And From the way you talk about him, he was a good husband."

Anya sighed and got up, dusting her self off. She held out her hand towards Ivan. "So...are you just going to sit there all day or are you going to go get your girl? Because trust me, it's not going to easy. Meera is kind hearted but she knows how to stand up for herself."

"Well, it's a good thing I have you to give me helpful advice," Ivan said, taking her hand. "Should I give her roses?"

"Neither." Anya said. "She hates them."

"Then what do I give?"

"Tulips. She likes the red ones."

"How do you even know that?"

Anya sat down on the couch, propping her legs on the ottoman. "Well, I did a background check on her."