Erik was filled with pride. He loved how happy he had made his wife. He was giving his darling wife and beautiful daughter the happiness they deserved. Well, not exactly. He knew it was too late for Magda to have the beautiful life she deserved. As much as he despised the Nazis for what they had done to him and his family, he hated them even more for what they had done to his Magda. Seeing the pain behind her eyes at every reminder of the camps was agony for him, especially because he knew exactly what it was like. He knew exactly how badly his wife had suffered in her childhood. He knew exactly how nightmarish every detail of the camps had been. He hated knowing that his wife had suffered through those things.
He knew he couldn't take away that pain from his Magda. He knew no number of kind gestures for her could erase her grief. No amount of love could negate the years of fear in her past. No matter how happy they were now, it couldn't make the pain of the past disappear. There had to be something he could give her. As he told her, breakfast every once in a while wasn't nearly enough, and he knew that. He wished he had more to give her.
He wished he had more to give the world, in fact. He had a great deal of anger, and not just directed at those who had mercilessly slaughtered his people. Of course, he was angry at the Nazis for their actions. He was angry at those who had done nothing in the face of such evil. He was filled with utter hatred for Klaus Schmidt, the madman who had murdered his mother and tortured him. But most of all, he was angry at himself. He had been unable to save his mother. He had been unable to save the countless others who were sent to the gas chambers whose bodies he had been forced to put in the ovens. He felt unworthy. He felt disgusting. Why had he survived when they hadn't? He shouldn't have been allowed to survive. So many people he had known died. His teacher, Herr Kalb. His parents. Magda's parents. His uncle. His sister. So many others. What gave him the right to live instead of them?
He wanted, no, he needed, to prove to himself that he deserved to live. He wouldn't let down those who had perished. He wouldn't insult their memory by living a useless life. He wanted to do something with the life he had left. If he didn't have Magda and Anya in his life, he thought he would dedicate his life to hunting down the cowards who had slaughtered his people. He couldn't save his fellow prisoners while they were alive. He couldn't bring them back now. But perhaps he could avenge them. Magda disapproved of this way of thinking. She still hated the Nazis, but she didn't see what good could come from Erik personally taking vengeance. As much as he wanted to hunt down Klaus Schmidt and the others who had escaped, he would set that goal aside for Magda's sake. But he had to do something. He had to earn his survival. He had to leave a legacy on this earth. Anything he did he would do with the dead in mind. He would make his life a tribute to them.
He would do it through Anya. She would be his legacy. She would be his gift to the world. He saw her as his gift to Magda and Magda's gift to him. He saw her as the light of his life. She was everything to him. She was his chance to truly give something to the world. She would be his legacy. He would give her everything. He would raise her to be the kind of beautiful person who would do something truly good. He could earn his survival by being a father to his daughter. With a Mama like his darling Magda, Anya would grow up to be a wonderful young lady. Erik was sure of it.
"So, what were you saying about me burning down the kitchen?"
"It's delicious, Erik. Thank you. You don't have to do things like this."
"Yes I do, my love."
"Well, you know I'm glad you do. I love you, Erik. I appreciate having a husband like you. I'll be proud to brag to my friends about what a man I married."
Erik smiled. The only time he had a genuine smile on his face was when he was with his new family. Yes, pouring love into his family would be an excellent legacy to leave.