CHAPTER 50 #2
The therapist is watching me, waiting to see if I'll participate.
I think about the promise I made three years ago when they placed Anya in my arms for the first time.
I think about her small hands always reaching for mine.
Her green eyes looking up at me like I'm the safest place in the world.
I open my mouth and say the words. "I can choose peace over violence.
" They taste wrong. Foreign. Like I'm speaking a language I'll never truly understand. But I say them anyway.
The therapist smiles. "Excellent. That's all for today.
Same time Thursday." People start collecting their things, chairs scraping the floor, quiet conversations starting up as everyone disperses.
I stand and button my coat. Ruslan and Semyon fall into step beside me as I walk toward the door.
"Boss," Ruslan says quietly. "You actually think this is helping?
" "No," I say. "But I keep coming anyway. "
"Why?"
Instead of answering, I push through the door.
The afternoon hits me, bright and cold. The limousine is waiting at the curb.
The driver sees me coming and straightens.
But my eyes find the two figures standing on the sidewalk just in front of the car.
Iris. Five months pregnant with our second, one hand resting on her rounded belly, the other holding the small hand of our daughter.
Anya. Three years old. She has my hair, blonde and wild, but those green eyes are all her mother.
Looking at her is like looking at Iris in miniature, soft and untouched by anything ugly, anything violent, anything like me.
Today it's a pink dress with white flowers and those little white shoes she loves because they light up when she walks.
Her blonde hair is pulled into pigtails with pink ribbons.
She sees me and her face transforms. "Papa!
" She tears her hand out of Iris's grip and runs toward me, her little legs pumping as fast as they can carry her, towards my arms stretched wide.
I crouch down and catch her as she throws herself into my arms, wrapping around my neck and pressing her face into my shoulder.
"Papa, Papa, Papa," she says, over and over, holding on tight.
My eyes close. I hold her with one hand on the back of her head, the other around her small body.
This. This right here. This is why I sit in that room.
Why I repeat words I don't mean and listen to strangers talk about problems that mean nothing to me.
I don't want her to grow up afraid of me.
I don't want her flinching at the sound of my voice.
I don't want her looking at me the way the rest of the world looks at me. I want to be her papa. Not a monster.
"Did you miss me, little one?" I ask, pulling back to look at her. She nods so hard her pigtails bounce. "I missed you so much! Mama said we could wait outside for you and I saw you coming and I was so happy!"
"I was only gone for an hour."
"That's a long time!" Her bottom lip juts out in a pout.
I kiss her forehead. "You're right. Far too long.
" Iris makes her way over, moving slower these days, one hand on her belly.
She's glowing. Beautiful. The sight of her still knocks the breath out of me.
"How was it?" she asks. I stand and take Anya with me, shifting her onto my hip.
Her arms circle my neck again. Her head finds my shoulder. "Fine."
"Did you participate?"
"Yes."
"Did you say the affirmations?"
"Yes." Her smile widens and she reaches up to cup my face with her free hand. "I'm proud of you." I lean in and kiss her softly. Three years ago I didn't know I could kiss anyone like this. When I pull back, Anya giggles. "Mama and Papa are kissing again!"
"That's because your mama is very beautiful.
" Anya's nose wrinkles in disgust. "Eww.
" Iris laughs, stroking Anya's hair. "Alright, both of you, in the car.
It's cold out here." The driver opens the door and Iris slides in first. I hand Anya to her, then climb in after, settling beside Iris as Anya immediately crawls back into my lap.
The door closes. The car pulls away from the curb.
Anya looks up at me her big green eyes. "Papa, can we get ice cream?
You said lasterday we could!" "That was two days ago. "
"That's what I said. Lasterday." I look at Iris.
She's pressing her lips together, trying not to laugh.
"It's almost dinner time," I tell Anya. "Please?
" She presses her little hands together and turns those green eyes into weapons, aiming the most pitiful look she can manage directly at me.
"Please, please, please?" I look to Iris.
She raises an eyebrow but offers no help.
"Don't look at me. You're the one who spoils her. "
"That's not true."
"You bought her a pony. Last week."
"She asked nicely." Iris shakes her head, fighting her smile.
"Fine. Ice cream. But only if you promise to eat everything on your plate at dinner.
" Anya beams. "I promise!" I knock on the partition and tell the driver to make a stop at the ice cream shop.
Anya leans against my chest, content, her small fingers playing with the buttons on my coat.
Iris reaches over and takes my hand, lacing her fingers through mine. I love them both. Mind, body and soul.
The end