Chapter 22 Roman #2
I wish that were true. “She would not have survived our world, Leon. She did not have teeth for that fight. You know it as well as I do. This life was never meant for the kindhearted. The good things she loved about me…they’re as dead as anyone we’ve lost. She would have hated me, hated this life.
That hate would have been a slow death for her. ”
Leon closes his eyes. For a second his face is hers.
Then it is his again as he blows out a large breath.
“We are old men now. It is easy to tell ourselves lies about the past for comfort. The thing is, I’m not sure which of us is doing that now.
Is it me, thinking she’d still be alive if you’d married her in secret?
Or is it you, insisting she wouldn’t have survived that marriage? ”
“We will never know. Rewriting the past is an old man’s favorite comforting pastime. But I am not interested in comfort. I am interested in making sure my wife does not face my son alone.”
He breathes out through his nose. “Then don’t let him kill you.”
“That is the plan. I take her to Rope. Let us be vulnerable. And when he attacks, I finish this. If I fail, that’s where you come in.”
“I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know when I say this, Roman. If you go to the club, you will be a target. Vitaly might not have a membership, but there’s nowhere he can’t break into. He will come for you.”
“That’s what I said.”
He shakes his head. “You play a dangerous game.”
“I play to win.”
“And your bride? Are you playing another dangerous game with a woman you profess to care for?”
I sit back, letting the cutting words slice into me. “I never played games with Olga, Leon. You know better than that. I loved her.”
“And you married Bridgette.”
“To keep Olga safe.”
“From your father, from Bridgette, or from yourself?”
I want to tell him he’s being unfair. That I was protecting her from a life in the Bratva, from my father, from Bridgette. From anyone or anything that doesn’t point the finger where I know it belongs.
The words still don’t come easily, even when I know they’re the truth. “I protected her from me.”
“What would you have done to her that she needed protection from, Roman? What were you afraid of?”
Those old fears creep out of my mouth. “That we would end up like my parents. My father had groomed me to be his successor, and as much as I hated the man, I feared becoming him. My mother was a good woman, and he turned her into a shell of a person until her death.” I can’t look him in the eyes when I say this, so I stare into the fire instead.
“If I became him, and she became her, I could have never lived with myself. If I had been the one to destroy the goodness in her…”
A knot forms in my throat, and I try to shake off that guilt. It doesn’t work. Maybe it shouldn’t be that easy to shake off guilt. This is the first time we’ve truly spoken on the matter, and I refuse to give rote answers about any of it. Not when I may be dead by morning.
I clear my throat again, or at least I try.
I want my words to be clear. “The world became a far grimmer place when Olga died. It would have been worse if she had been hollowed out by years of cruel indifference and undeniable pressure. Maybe I didn’t handle things the way I should have back then.
I have a great many regrets in this life, but that is not one of them.
It’s ugly, but I made the right call on that score, Leon. ”
“You feared mistreating her by becoming your father?”
“Until that point in my life, my greatest fear was becoming him. Then, I met Olga, and that fear was overtaken by becoming him and hurting her because of it. Yes.”
He sits back, and the leather chair beneath him muffles a squeak. “That is how I know it would have never happened.”
I blink at him. “I don’t understand.”
“That was your fear, Roman. You would have done everything in your power to stop yourself from hurting her, from becoming him. But you never trusted yourself enough to know that.” His shoulders slide down.
“You would have never hurt her. You aren’t cruel like your father.
You’re a better man than he ever was. Trust yourself. ”
Conflict rises in my shoulders. “It means a great deal that you think so highly of me. I’m not sure I agree.”
He chuckles. “Being better than your father isn’t a particularly high level of humanity, Roman. But you stuck the landing.”
His teasing almost makes me smile. “Does any of what I told you make you feel better or worse about Olga?”
“Both, I suppose. Better, for finally knowing your reasoning behind it. Worse, for how I think it could have been for her. And worse for you, because I think you might have been happy with her.” He stretches.
“But in the long run, what’s done is done.
And your new bride has a bright future ahead of her, when tonight goes the way you plan. ”
“You’re that sure of me?”
“I am sure of little in this life, but I am sure of you.”
I have to ask. “Why? Why have you always been in my corner?”
“To paraphrase—because you’re the closest thing to a good man that I know.”
I whiff a laugh at that, and he stands, so I follow suit.
He walks me to the door. We shake hands and hold for a beat longer than we used to.
He says the thing that must be said. “If he kills you, I will not let your new bride walk alone. I will do everything in my power to watch after them. I swear it, Roman.”
Relief washes over me like heat. “Thank you, old friend.”
The walk to my car is brief and cold. Night has fallen in the past hour. The drive back holds less dread, because I know Mina and our boys will be cared for. What happens to me is inconsequential. I will face Vitaly and do what I must.
No matter how much I hate it.