angstydisaster

If Yelena gets in the car and drives off, does Kate let her? Does she come outside, bang on the window, demand she come back inside? Does she call in ten minutes, or an hour, or tomorrow morning when she wakes up and realizes Yelena actually left?

Or does she do nothing?

That last thought sinks claws into Yelena’s chest. It sits there, heavy and festering, refusing to let her go.

She releases the car handle and pivots on her heel, marching back toward the garage elevator before she can talk herself out of it.

Inside, the lights in the hallway are dim. The office door is still wide open, her chair pushed back from the desk exactly how she left it. The fight sits in the air, thick and suffocating, but the house is quiet.

Uncomfortably so.

Yelena makes her way down the hall. There’s a sliver of light coming from the guest room at the end of it.

She hesitates, foot hovering over the carpet leading there, then she moves past it entirely. Instead, she veers toward the kids’ rooms. She’s not sure what she’s looking for. Some reassurance, maybe, something to anchor her in the mess of tonight.

She stops outside Alexia's door first, pressing her palm against the wood for a second before carefully pushing it open just enough to peek inside.

The room is dark, save for the faint glow of the nightlight in the corner. Alexia is curled on their side, one arm flung over the stuffed owl Kate bought her last Christmas. Yelena watches her chest rise and fall, slow and even.

She should’ve been here earlier. Should’ve said goodnight, should’ve been the one to tuck the kids in instead of leaving it to Kate again.

She shuts the door as quietly as possible and crosses the hall to the little one's room.

Maks is sprawled across the mattress in the most chaotic sleeping position imaginable, tangled in the sheets, one sock barely clinging to his foot. In the crib, Sonny is neatly tucked in, her tiny hand curled under his cheek.

Yelena lingers in the doorway for a long time.

She loves them. Of course, she does. That was never up for debate. But it still stings, the way Kate threw it at her earlier, like Yelena being a good mother was somehow optional.

Like Kate thinks she’s failing.

Like she thinks she’s failing.

She swallows hard, backing out of the room.

When she reaches the guest bedroom, the door is cracked open. A lamp is still on inside, and Yelena can just make out the shape of Kate sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked up, fingers pressed to her forehead.

She doesn’t knock, just pushes the door open wider and steps inside.

Kate doesn’t look up. Doesn’t say anything.

Yelena exhales slowly, crossing her arms.

“I didn’t leave.”

Kate snorts, the sound dry, unimpressed.

“Want a medal?”

Yelena clenches her jaw.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

That makes Kate lift her head. Her eyes are red, tired, but sharp.

“Do what?”

“This. Fighting. This stupid back and forth. I don’t want to keep hurting you.”

Kate watches her carefully, searching for something. Then, with a quiet scoff, she shakes her head.

“That’s nice. Really. But you don’t get to say ‘I don’t want to fight’ like that fixes everything. You did hurt me. You keep doing it.”

“I know.” It’s the only honest thing Yelena can say. She shifts on her feet. “But you’re hurting me too.”

That seems to land. Kate’s jaw tightens, and she looks away.

Yelena takes a careful step forward.

“We can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to lose you.”

Kate laughs, but it’s hollow.

“You sure about that? Because every time shit gets hard, you disappear.”

Yelena shakes her head. “I don’t...”

“Yes, you do.” Kate cuts in sharply. “Physically. Emotionally. Take your pick.” She lifts her hands, then lets them fall limply onto her lap. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re fucking drowning? I do. Every single day. But I don’t get to check out. I don’t get to decide it’s too much and just…step back.”

“I don’t decide to do it.” Yelena’s voice is quiet now. “It’s not…it’s not something I want.”

“But it’s what happens,” Kate mutters, shaking her head.

Silence stretches between them.

Then, Kate exhales and leans forward, pressing her face into her hands for a moment before lifting her gaze again. Her voice is softer when she speaks next.

“What are we to you?”

"What?”

“Its a simple question,” Kate says, watching her. “If this...” she gestures vaguely between them “...is something you’re only holding onto because it’s familiar, or because leaving would be too hard, then we need to stop pretending.”

Yelena doesn’t answer right away. Because wanting something and knowing how to make it work are two different things. She exhales, crossing the room until she’s close enough to kneel in front of Kate, resting her hands lightly against her knees. Kate doesn’t pull away.

“You and them are the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you,” Yelena says, voice steady. “And I don’t want to stop trying.”

Kate studies her for a long, tense moment. Then, finally, she sighs.

“We have to try differently then,” she says. “Because whatever this is? It’s not working.”

"We'll figure it out. All we have to do is choose not to give up."

///

The next morning is quiet. Too quiet.

Yelena wakes to the sound of muffled voices. The house is awake without her. The kids are up. Kate is up. And Yelena is still in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling like she’s an outsider in her own home.

She drags herself up, pulling on a sweatshirt over her sleep shirt as she pads barefoot toward the door. Their bedroom feels wrong when Kate doesn't sleep in it. Foreign. Without Kate in here, Yelena feels she’s intruding. The space between her and Kate has never felt this wide.

Hearing them out there...it feels like they're already moving on without her.

Yelena makes her way to the kitchen. Kate must have said something hilarious because she hears Alexia and Maks cackle. She turns and corner and, the second she steps inside, she knows she’s walked in on something.

Kate, who stands by the sink, tenses the moment her and Yelena make eye contact. A few feet away, Alexia sits at the table with Maks and Sonny. Sonny is in just her diaper, swinging her legs under her chair, oblivious to the tension that just thickened the air. Maks is staring down at his half-eaten cereal like it might give him an answer to whatever the hell just happened here. Alexia, however, is bristling.

“You should have woken me up,” Yelena says, voice rough with sleep.

Kate doesn't say anything.

Alexia glances up, eyes flicking between them, and suddenly, Yelena realizes what this looks like. Kate slept in the guest room. She wasn’t here when they woke up. She walked in late.

Like a stranger.

“Mama, are you living with Deda and Babu now?” Maks asks, tilting his head.

Yelena’s stomach twists. “What? No. Why would you...”

Yelena glares at Kate. Before she knows it's happening, she's crossing the kitchen and walking straight to Kate.

“What did you tell them?” Yelena asks barely above a whisper.

"The truth." Kate turns, leveling her with a stare. “What was I supposed to do? Pretend like nothing is happening? They’re not stupid.”

“They’re also kids.”

Kate scoffs, dropping a spoon into the sink with a clatter.

“Right. And what do you think is worse? Talking to them about it or letting them figure it out on their own while we keep playing house?”

“This isn’t something they should have to deal...”

“They already deal with it,” Kate snaps. “Every single time you put your work first. Every time you miss a recital or a game or a school meeting. Every time I have to make excuses for you...they already know. So maybe, just maybe, don’t act so fucking surprised.”

Alexia chair scrapes backwards and she storms off.

"Alex..." Yelena pleads after her daughter.

But she's already gone, storming down the hallway and up the stairs. Maks looks like he wants to follow, but he stays put, chewing his lip. Sonny, blissfully unaware, bangs her little hands on the high chair and gurgles.

Kate sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is exactly why I told you to fix your priorities.”

Yelena sets her jaw. “You told me? This isn’t just on me, Kate.”

“Really? Because I’m not the one who’s always gone.”

The words slam into her, harder than she’s willing to admit.

Before she can respond, Maks slides off his chair and follows after his big sister, leaving only Sonny at the table.

Kate watches them go, then turns back to the sink, gripping the edge of the counter like she’s holding herself together.

“I don’t want to fight in front of them,” Yelena mutters.

“Then don’t start shit at breakfast.”

Yelena's eyes flash. “Start shit? You told them I was going to stay with my parents.”

“That's what YOU said,” Kate hisses, stepping closer.

“I came back.”

“And you want me to give you points for that?”

“No. I want you to stop acting like I’m the only one responsible for all of this falling apart.”

Kate laughs, but it’s sharp, humorless.

“You’re really going to stand here and act like you’re not?”

“This isn’t fair...”

“What’s not fair is that I have to be the reliable one while you get to be at work. You get to show up when it’s convenient for you. You get to skip the hard parts. You get to waltz in late because you’re Yelena Belova, the brilliant scientist who’s too important and too busy to actually show up.”

“That’s not...” Yelena pauses. "Why did you call me that?"

"Call you what?"

"Yelena Belova."

"That's your name."

"It hasn't been for A LONG time."

“Don’t change the subject,” Kate warns, voice dangerously quiet. “Don’t stand there and pretend like you don’t see it. You have no idea what it’s like to be the one who has to hold it all together.”

Yelena’s chest heaves. “And what do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

“Trying isn’t enough anymore.”

There it is. The final nail in the coffin.

Yelena shakes her head, throat burning. “You’ve already decided, haven’t you?”

Kate doesn’t answer right away. Her gaze flickers, like she wants to take it back. But she doesn’t.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Kate says finally. “Not when nothing ever changes.”

A thick silence swallows the kitchen whole.

Yelena swallows around the knot in her throat. “So that’s it? You’re done?”

Kate exhales slowly, but there’s no satisfaction in it. No relief. Just exhaustion.

“I think I have to be.”

Yelena takes a step back, like she’s been hit. She doesn’t realize she’s shaking her head until Kate sighs and looks away.

“Yelena...”

“No,” Yelena breathes. “No, this isn’t...we aren’t...”She can’t finish it.

Because Kate isn’t stopping her. Kate isn’t walking it back. Kate isn’t saying 'I don’t mean it' or 'I just need space' or 'We’ll figure it out'.

She’s just standing there, watching Yelena unravel.

“When are you moving out?”