Dad holds me so tight I’m actually finding it difficult to breathe.
I’m so happy to have his arms around me that I don’t care.
I actually don’t care.
It feels so good to have his arms around me that all I can think about is this moment we’re having.
Me and the man who’s been my father for the last ten years. If I’m honest, though, he’s been watching over me and loving me my whole life.
I can’t help but cry, and he does too. God knows how long we stand by the door in his apartment holding each other and crying.
When we eventually pull apart, he cups my face and looks at me. As he does, I see the man who saved me from the monsters and nursed me back to health.
I can’t believe it’s been close to four weeks since we stood here together like this. Four weeks since we saw each other.
“My dear Ava, look at you,” he beams and plants a kiss on my forehead. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“I’m happy to see you too.” I nod.
“How long do I have you for?”
“All day…”
“All day?” His face brightens.
“Yes.”
Vincent told me to spend the day with him. I couldn’t have been more grateful.
I’m more grateful, though, for the fact that Dad looks more like himself.
“Thank God. Let’s make the most of it, sweet girl. Come.” He smiles wide.
We go into the living room and sit on the sofa. I can’t stop looking at him, at how good he looks. He even looks younger.
He looks like he really did try to get better this time.
We spoke last night, and I told him about the job. He was so happy for me.
He sounded like how he did when I first started working. It was like he wanted me to have something I could be proud of and happy doing.
“What’s happening now? Did the doctors say we needed to do anything?” I ask.
“There’s a lot. And there’s no we, Ava.”
I shake my head in protest even before he can finish. “Absolutely not. Dad, if this has taught us anything, it’s that we need to be there for each other more.”
“No… that’s not what it teaches us, my dear girl. There was never any lesson for you to learn. Not a damn thing. It was me. This was all me. I did unspeakable things. Stuff I can’t even remember. I dragged you into my mess and could have gotten both of us killed. Look how far we’ve come. All the way from the nightmare of Russia. And I nearly lost it all.” He dabs at his eyes.
“You had a problem.”
“I had problems, and I just allowed them to fester and grow into a monstrous entity that took over my life. Never again. Never again will I put you through what I have. I can’t express how I felt when you offered yourself to pay my debt.” He stills and places a hand to the side of his head.
“I did it because I love you.”
“I know, but I know you did it too because you feel you owe me. You did it because you feel… you feel guilt still, and nothing was ever your fault.” His gaze clings to mine.
I press my lips together. “I’ve been okay. It wasn’t bad.”
It sounds like a lie, but it’s truth, and I wouldn’t know what to tell him in regard to how I feel about Vincent.
“Did he hurt you?” He keeps asking me that for a reason.
“No… he’s never hurt me.” Maybe it’s the way I say it or what I say, but there’s a shift in his expression that takes on a more curious edge. Like he knows how I feel.
“Ava… please be careful. Please. It’s danger. Men like me… men like him… it’s all danger. I don’t want you to get hurt. I know he spared me because of you. I guess that should tell me everything.”
He does know.
“There’s been ups and downs, but he’s taken care of me.”
“You… have feelings for him.”
My head dips, and I stare at my hands brought together in my lap. I don’t know if I can answer that question outside my head. It’s been intense with Vincent. In some ways, it feels like I’ve been with him for months, not weeks.
Dad touches my cheek and lifts my head back to focus on him.
“Ava, you can tell me. It’s okay.”
“How can it be?”
“Because it is what it is.”
“I don’t know what it is, Dad. My head is spinning, and I feel like I’m spinning too. I’ve felt every kind of emotion over the last few weeks, and I didn’t know what to do, what to think, how to feel.”
“I understand… maybe when you work out what you feel, you’ll know. All I’ll say is, be careful. I want you to have your dreams. You lost your first love. Ballet was you, and now it’s your writing. I couldn’t be prouder.”
“Thank you. Thanks so much. I’m happy I got the job.” I’m still bouncing off the walls with excitement. I can’t wait to get started. Of course, that means leaving everything behind. “I’m worried about you here. I’m going to have someone stay with you, and when I get back, we’ll get a place together.”
He chuckles. “Oh my God, girl. No, you’ll do no such thing. I will be okay. I start my outpatient treatment on Monday. I’ll be going four times a week to see my therapist, and on Fridays there’s a support group. I don’t want to go back to the hospital ever again. I don’t want to touch any drugs. And I most certainly don’t want you to have to shake up your life to take care of me.”
“I’ll do it. I will.” I’m determined to help him where I can and be there for him.
“Ava, how about we see what happens when you get back? Let’s do that and go from there.”
I think about it and nod. “Okay. We’ll do that, but I’m being serious. You know I am.”
He taps my cheek. “You are just like her, exactly like her. Your mother would say the same thing.”
There was always one thing I wanted to know when he told me the story of how he loved Mom.
“Why didn’t you fight more to be with her?” I ask.
“She loved him more. Your father. It was… the story of three best friends who grew up together. One guy rich, the other poor. We both loved her, but only one of us could give her everything she needed. So, I stepped away and watched over you all instead.”
I loved my Papa with all my heart, but I love this man before me the same. “Don’t you think she wouldn’t have cared about wealth?”
“Your grandfather wouldn’t have allowed it. It’s the brat va way, my love, and … deep-rooted family traditions. You don’t go against that. Never go against that. That’s how I was raised. I wish I did though. Maybe things would have been different.” He gazes at me and strokes my hair.
I think I must have been twelve when I got the first inclining about what he felt for my mother. I just knew from the way he looked at her. I think Papa knew too. There was no way he didn’t.
He paid attention to everything.
Dad was his best friend. That’s what I knew him as. But when I looked at him, I saw him as the man who made my mother smile.
Papa was always busy. As the Pakhan of the Ivanezh Bratva, Papa was always working. Always tending to the brotherhood.
Dad was his Sovientrik. His advisor who was an ex-army intelligence analyst.
Even in my younger years, I knew that nobody was more skilled than him. Nobody could protect us better than him, and if he’d been around that day, that awful day, we wouldn’t have been ambushed. That’s the best way I can describe it.
An ambush.
By the same token, it was only a man like Dad who could rescue me, and he’s managed to move me unseen from one country to the next and hide me for the last ten years.
We practically became ghosts. I’m supposed to be one. My biggest enemy thinks I died in the fire, and that is how I pray it will remain forever.
“Sometimes I remember. I’ve been remembering, and the nightmares are unbearable,” I tell him.
“I know. You don’t live through the type of horror you did and forget. Please try though. You have your job to look forward to. Your mother would have been proud. You should dance sometimes though, Ava.”
I simply smile at him.
He knows why I don’t dance anymore.
My love for dance died the day my parents did.
I blamed it for putting us in that position.
If not for me and dancing, I wouldn’t have gone to a place that facilitated their assassination.