Chapter 39
L evi, clad in his all-black ensemble and sunglasses, which either made him look like an undertaker or my personal bodyguard, had been silent since we left Pantheon, his finger tapping anxiously on his knee. I intertwined my hand with his in the back seat of the taxi. My heart was heavy with the impending confrontation with my father, but for Levi, it had been four years since he’d been back to our small town.
The taxi passed in front of the once-exiled Delombre manor, and I tightened my grip on Levi’s hand. The facade had been repainted white, the name had been replaced, and children were running in the garden, which now had a pool. It was so alive as if all traces of Lucie and Levi had been removed.
I glanced at him, but he wasn’t even looking. His head was turned to the other side.
We crossed the sign indicating the entrance to our childhood town. As a child, everything had felt so big. Our little church felt to me like the biggest cathedral, and being allowed to walk into the town center with Grandma felt like the biggest adventure. But here, after seeing the vastness of Pantheon, it didn’t feel like home anymore. It felt like the past.
The taxi parked on the street a few meters away from my home. My heart quickened like a deadly countdown.
Levi pulled a hundred from his wallet to pay for the cab. “Call me if something happens.”
He wasn’t coming with me. I had to face my father alone first, and he preferred staying at a hotel nearby.
“I’ll see you later?”
He cupped my jaw and pulled me closer, our lips meeting in a kiss. God, I love the taste of him.
“Yes.” Levi’s gaze shifted to something behind me. A muscle clenched in his jaw. “You should go. Your father is watching you through the window.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Outside, my home appeared idyllic, with lush vegetation, a sienna-colored wall adorned with blue shutters, and long, vintage-style windows with grid-like patterns. However, a storm was brewing inside. My father, dressed in a blue suit, cast a shadow over this paradise as he flung aside the checkered yellow curtains of the kitchen.
I stepped out of the car and made my way down the street. Dad had retreated from the window, his stern figure replaced by Grandma emerging from the mansion with her arms outstretched. Despite the winter chill, her garden still bloomed.
“You’re okay, my flower?” Grandma wrapped me in a tight hug before whispering, “If your father starts again, I can pretend to have a heart attack or something.”
I managed a weak smile before turning my attention to my father. He stood at the threshold, his expression inscrutable, arms folded, rooted to the spot.
“Dalia,” he uttered.
“Hi, Dad,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. The door slammed shut behind me, making me flinch. “I missed you.”
In silence, we made our way to the living room. Dad settled into his customary armchair among the ancient dictionary collections, his small table adorned with a coaster and his whiskey glass. My spot on the leather couch remained untouched, devoid of any creases.
“Tell us about university, dear,” Grandma said while brewing tea.
“Amazing. You guys already know about Yasmine. As for Sylas, he’s been the best guide and friend I could hope for.”
Father winced, crossing his legs, his gaze fixated on me.
“The teachers are great,” I continued, sinking into my seat, my feet grazing the carpet beneath. “I’m learning so much. Pantheon is so beautiful and ancient. I’m getting better and better at fencing.”
I stole a glance at Dad, hoping for a hint of a smile.
“I feel like a part of Mom is with—”
“Are we going to pretend to do this?” he snapped, his eyes alternating between Grandma and me. “Dalia, our relationship has always been based on trust, and you betrayed that trust.”
My knees tightened together as I attempted to defend myself. “I didn’t betray your trust, Dad. You’re just not easy to talk to.”
“You’re not the daughter I raised! That Delombre boy, he’s completely uncontrollable with a bad education and no future. I don’t know how he found his way inside Pantheon, but he doesn’t belong with people like us. I forbade him to go near you that day, and none of you listened. I thought you and Sylas were—”
“Sylas is my friend, a great friend, but you can’t control who I’m going out with. Or my life, for that matter,” I asserted, planting my nails into my skin. I can do this. This time, I’d stand up to my dad. “You’ve been keeping me locked in this house, with no one to talk to, afraid to go out alone because you told me the world is dangerous. You made me weak and scared of everything, and now, I—”
“Don’t scream at me, Dalia!” he roared, causing the chandelier above us to shake, its crystals clinking together.
“I didn’t scream!” But this time I did, as I rose from my seat, heading to his side, unleashing years of restrained feelings. “You don’t even know him, but you condemned him because of what, rumors? Because I kissed him and wanted him? No one will ever be good enough for me, right? And I’ll never be good enough for you because I’m not like Mom! You don’t even see how miserable I am, trying to be the perfect daughter because of it.”
“Oh, Dalia, you’re so naive.” Dad took my hand and patted it, almost breaking my bones with his grip. “Look at his family and where he came from. What kind of future can you hope for? His stepfather was a drunk, a loser who couldn’t even do his job properly, and his mother—”
I withdrew my hand sharply. “Don’t talk about Lucie. She was a means to an end for you because playing the violin was safe, right? Plus, that way, I’d stop asking you questions about Mom, and instead, I’d play the violin alone in my room.” My lips shook as his eyes flinched. He always sought to exert control over everyone around him. “She and Grandma raised me while you were too busy with work.”
“She was a good music teacher to you because she entertained your silly fantasies about your mom. We all did.” His vein was visible on his forehead as he muttered, “You can’t talk to her through music, this is insane.”
“Bruno!” Grandma warned.
“So I’m insane to you?” I chuckled darkly, my voice breaking. “I practically had to beg you to let me go to Pantheon, and you only agreed because you were already planning my future! Let me guess, trapping me in a loveless marriage with Sylas just to keep us under control, right?” Dad didn’t even dare look me in the eyes. “I love you, Dad, but I’m tired of making you try to love me. And the worst part? You don’t even know who I am.”
His jaw clenched, and he fell into a tense silence, his nostrils flaring.
“I was the one kissing Levi four years ago because I liked him first,” I confessed, my gaze locking on the floor, my anger gone. I was done fighting for his approval and hiding who I was. “In just a few months at Pantheon, I’ve already survived hazing night, I won points for my house, I had my first drink, my first uninterrupted kiss. I stood up for myself for the first time ever. I got a nemesis—” I glanced at Grandma who acknowledged this by placing her hand over her heart. “I tried new things. You may not approve of them, but it made me grow. And I’m not alone. On the contrary, I made great friends, and it’s the first time in my life I didn’t feel lonely.” I took a deep breath, my voice trembling. “And yes, I’ve never felt so close to Mom, and I utterly believe in our shared dream. Is it so bad that I believe that I’ll see her one last time if I can beat my demons and play on that stage? I’m sorry if you don’t understand me.”
Dad rose from his seat with a swift motion, his finger jabbing toward me in a gesture of authority, but I darted away from him before he could start another lecture about how he was my father and how I should obey him for life. I hurried up the stairs, the smiling faces of Mom in the family pictures above seeming to observe me. I’m sorry.
I slammed my bedroom door shut and collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the softness of my fluffy pink pillows as tears streamed down my cheeks. Dad and Grandma’s muffled argument drifted up from downstairs.
“You’ll lose her if you act this way. You can’t keep her here forever. She can make her own decisions.”
“She’s not like Diana. What did I do wrong?”
“You’ll regret it the rest of your life, and I won’t forgive you if we lose Dalia because of you.”
The echoes of the confrontation faded, leaving behind a stillness that enveloped my room. I surveyed the familiar pink and white space, my gaze drifting over remnants of my past—my perfect GPA displayed proudly, pictures with Dad and Grandma and the church group on the walls, my stuffed animals with bows on top of their heads on my bed.
A hesitant knock punctuated the silence. Once. Twice.
“Dalia, please.” Dad’s voice broke through.
The doorknob turned, and Dad stepped in, navigating the emotional minefield between us and taking a seat on my bed.
“I’m sorry,” he began, the weight of his words mirrored in the furrowed lines on his forehead. “It’s just… I feel like I’m losing you, just like I lost your mother… Work has been a nightmare lately, and it’s hard to see you grow up and not be able to protect you.” His lips pinched. “The outside world is dangerous. I deal with it every day. It’s not a safe place, and I don’t want you to make the wrong decisions. So many young girls get assaulted, killed, or kidnapped.”
“Just because some people are perverted and horrible doesn’t mean I need to stop living.” I sniffed, holding my pillow tight to my chest. “You can offer me guidance, but you can’t make me do something I don’t want to.”
He smiled. “You’re truly a woman now, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry I’m not like Mom,” I said, my lips shaking. “I aspire to be like her, but I…”
“You’re you, I get that.” He nodded. “I may not understand why you feel the need to play at Pantheon’s opera for her but never doubt that I miss her so much too. I—you’re as stubborn as she was, always trying to see the best in everyone. You got that from her. You got your crappy character from me, though.”
I smiled.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes landed on mine. “You really like him, don’t you?”
“I do, Dad. I always did.”
“Fine.” A nerve clenched his jaw. “I’ll meet with him.”
My eyes widened. “Really?” He nodded. I fidgeted my hands together. “Can we invite him over for Christmas?”
Dad let out a crisp smile. “Sure.”
I jumped into his arms and hugged him tight. “Thank you, Dad.”
“What if you tell your boyfriend that, and then we’ll watch the photo album with the fencing pictures of your mom?”
He’s never wanted to look at those pictures before. I felt butterflies dancing in my belly. “I’d love that.”
He departed from my room, and I texted Levi.
Me: You’re invited tomorrow for our Christmas dinner!
It was the first Christmas I was looking forward to.
But Levi didn’t reply.