29. Sienna
SIENNA
S aying I’m uncomfortable would be an understatement as I sit across from my father with Nikolai beside me at a table in my father’s favorite restaurant only two blocks from my apartment.
My father’s gaze bounces between Nikolai and me. His light-brown hair seems to have a few more grays in it since I last saw him, and his brown eyes are certainly unimpressed.
“Were you really not going to tell me you were back in New York?” my father asks, disappointed and probably hurt.
“It’s not like that,” I say in a small voice, never wanting to let him down.
“No?” His gaze snaps to Nikolai, who has remained silent the entire time. “And who is this? Your rebound? ”
“Yes,” Nikolai says at the same time that I say, “No.”
We look at one another.
My father clicks his tongue as he waves the server over to pour more wine. It’s unlike him to be indulgent when it comes to alcohol. He might have a glass or two, but he threw back the first like it was water.
I take a sip of mine, the fingers of my free hand fidgeting under the table. Nikolai’s hand slides over mine, offering me a small amount of comfort.
How am I supposed to explain any of this?
I’ve always idolized my father. He’s permitted me to pursue what my heart desires, as long as I don’t tarnish the Falcone name. The only thing he requires of me is that I marry and produce an heir since I have no siblings.
No pressure.
My father takes another sip of his wine, and I follow his lead.
Nikolai’s vodka goes untouched. Fuck, I wonder what’s running through his mind.
But didn’t I tell myself I would stop caring about what everyone else thinks?
And as soon as I remind myself of that, I feel the pressure and expectation slide off my shoulders, and I take what feels like my first full breath since seeing my father out on the street.
“What happened between you and Michael?” my father asks, uncaring of Nikolai’s presence. He probably thinks Nikolai is one of my boytoy boyfriends I used to introduce him to when I was younger .
“Michael cheated on me, Dad,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Yes, I saw the articles.”
“And he’s apparently engaged, and she’s pregnant,” I add.
“Yes, I also saw that,” he says, stroking his moustache, clearly annoyed.
“You didn’t answer any of my calls. I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth.
And then—” He cuts himself off, realizing he’s raising his voice.
He looks over his shoulder to ensure he didn’t disrupt anyone’s meals.
This is the most unnerved I’ve seen him in some time.
“I’ve been worried, Sienna,” he says in a softer tone.
My heart sinks as I hear the sincerity in his voice.
“You told me you were going to London to pursue more acting roles and then … nothing. I even called Michael to see if he heard from you, and?—”
“You what?” My voice squeaks, and Nikolai’s hand tightens on mine.
“Excuse me,” the server says, setting a tray of appetizers in the middle of the table, none of which I have an appetite for.
I take another sip of the wine, needing it more than I realized.
“I no longer speak to Michael,” I say curtly as I place my glass back down.
“As I would expect. Why do you think I went to such lengths to ensure he might find it more difficult to get roles? ”
My jaw drops. “You didn’t?”
He scoffs, and from the corner of my eye, I can see mild amusement and approval in Nikolai’s expression.
“As if I’d let someone walk away freely after betraying my daughter,” he asserts. “I had to swallow my pride to call him to ask where you were. And then you show up here only a few days later?”
His gaze locks on Nikolai again, and I’m sure he’s aware that it somehow involves Nikolai, but I imagine whatever he’s thinking isn’t anywhere near as damning as what it actually is.
“Dad, I’m okay,” I tell him, and I feel the weight of that. “I was embarrassed, and I thought you’d be mad because of the negative press surrounding the Falcone name. I felt like I failed.”
His eyes widen. “Sweetheart, I couldn’t care less about such gossip. I never much liked him anyway.”
My jaw drops. “I thought you did.”
He shakes his head. “Not at all. But he came from an influential family with a promising future, and you seemed happy. So, I supported it, but I don’t see it as much of a loss at all.” Then his gaze slides to Nikolai again. “And who are you?”
“Nikolai,” he says with his thick Russian accent.
My father’s eyebrows dip, and I know he’s waiting for his last name, or some kind of impressive resume as to why he’s a prime suitor for me. But, as expected, Nikolai offers none of that.
“Dad,” I say, reaching for his hand. “Nikolai and I are … friends. We met while I was traveling. He’s taught me a lot about myself over these past few weeks.” I look at Nikolai, letting him see the sincerity in that. “I needed a break from … everything.”
My father seems to sink into himself. “Have I failed you?”
The question catches me off guard, and I’m quick to squeeze his hand tighter. “No, not at all. Why would you even think that?”
“I’m not as soft and kind as your mother was. I struggle to understand you sometimes. And when you went missing … I thought the worst.”
My heart sinks as I tighten my hold on him, and I see the lonely man who has moved on with his life in many ways, though never from my mother.
He’s always been devoted to her, and at times I think it’s unfair to his second wife that she’ll never reach that part of his heart.
But it’s always flooded me with love to know my mother was as special to him as she is me.
Strangely, it’s that moment when it dawns on me that after the last four months of me wallowing in my darkest corners, I’ve been reminded of her and her bright zest for life.
“You know, I think Mom has been guiding me through all of this, though in very odd ways.”
He looks up at me then, the sadness in his gaze very different from the powerful, successful finance CEO everyone else sees. Right now, he’s just a lonely man, longing for his dead wife .
“I went diving with a shark,” I tell him, and I notice how Nikolai goes rigid.
My father seems affronted. “Sienna, that’s dangerous.”
I break out into a smile. “Very.” And my voice cracks as I think about the escapades my mother used to tell me about. And I know my father is thinking of the same.
“Your mother always sought out adventures. It was hard to keep her in one place,” he says fondly. “And the swimming with a shark… Did you do this with her?” he asks Nikolai.
When I turn to Nikolai, he’s casually leaning his elbow on the table, most likely to intentionally disrupt my father’s ideal version of etiquette.
But he looks at only me as he replies, “Yes, sir. Your daughter also has a wild heart.” Then he looks at my father.
“I’d like to hear more about your wife, if possible, because I think I can already see a lot of her in your daughter. ”
My heart squeezes, because this was the one part of myself I’d closed off to Nikolai.
Conversations around my mother and my infertility are off-limits.
I lost my mother, who was one of the most amazing people I’d ever known.
The relationship between a mother and child is special, and I felt like a failure that I wouldn’t be able to have that with a child of my own.
My father’s gaze softens slightly, and as he leans in, he says to Nikolai, “You’re not like a thug or anything, are you, son? ”
I roll my eyes at the question. But it’s been a long time since I’ve seen my father open up like this. To simply be and accept the person in front of him. And perhaps it’s basically the way he met my mother.
They were from two worlds that shouldn’t have collided. She was a free spirit backpacking through Sweden, and he was there on business for the family. They met at a café, and were inseparable after that, despite my father’s parents telling him it was a bad match.
“I’m much worse, sir,” Nikolai says with a straight face. “Which means I can protect your daughter at all costs.”
My father looks confused, as if not understanding Nikolai’s humor, but says, “Ah, a man who can provide. Much better than that last one, at least. I heard he’s in a lot of debt now.”
“Dad, can we please stop talking about Michael?” I say, tired of hearing his name. Tired of revisiting not the moment I lost my fiancé but the moment my heart broke because I realized I’d lost myself in trying to fit into his life.
“Yes, yes, he’s horseshit,” my father says, and I choke on my next sip of wine. Evidently, those two glasses of wine have already gone to his head, but he has a small smile on his face.
Horseshit was something my mother always said if she disagreed with something, and even after years with my father, she never quite polished herself enough to be as pristine as expected of her.
But I’m certain that’s why my father was so fond of her.
And it makes me wonder why his expectations of me were so different.
Or maybe they never were. Maybe I simply wanted to fill a void for my father after my mother’s passing.
And although I didn’t mind my life up until this point, I feel freer now.
I’m still in another man’s web, but I would never tell my father that, concerned for his safety if he were to find out.
Besides, I’m certain that I’ll manage to get out of this situation on my own. Because I want to. Stilettos and all.
My father squeezes my hand and says, “Sienna, I don’t care what you choose to do, whether it be modeling, acting, or something else. I only care that you’re safe, happy, and appreciated for what you do. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
His words send warmth through me. I only wish I’d heard them sooner. But as I take in Nikolai’s handsome face, I consider that the right things show up at the right time.
Perhaps sometimes we need to embrace the unknown to break away from our own bullshit and have honest conversations with ourselves.