Chapter 3 #2
Even more so if I let myself buy it, too.
By now Angie must be transporting Dad back from wherever she's been hiding him. I've visited Dad a lot and I couldn't even take a guess at all the places she had him.
To me, it's unbelievable that anybody could figure out Dad is alive, let alone find him. That Alexei could've done it is impressive. That Chet could've done it has to be impossible.
Alexei doesn't have any reason to hunt for my father. Chet… well I don't want to think about that. He's been a non issue for long enough. His working with Victor had to be a fluke. A twist of opportunity. Nothing more than a quick loss and we will never hear from him again.
I wish I could be glad that Dad gets to come home. Back in his own bed. For some reason I can't be there to see it happen. I can't be there to see the evidence of what I did to my father. Not when I'm still trying to make amends for what I did to him.
The only thing I want to focus on is my death promise with the psychotic Rushkoff. The world could be imploding around me, and I'm pretty sure it is, and I still don't have enough room in my mind to focus on anything other than the pact I made with him.
My mindless walk away from my family estate has me turning up in the most familiar place. I stand on the road outside the cemetery, looking over the rolling grass hills and gravestones. There are no fences surrounding the block, so I can see straight in, but I can't go in there.
In the distance though I can see it. His grave.
My heart pangs as I notice even from this distance that the flowers are long wilted, with nothing fresh laid for him in months.
It's like the world has moved on and forgotten him already.
It was never my intention to forget him or to abandon him, but that's certainly what it feels like seeing the neglect of his grave site.
Even as these thoughts bring tears to my eyes, I still won't bring myself to go any closer. If I don't have the space in my mind to think about anything other than the death promise, then I don't have space for this loss either.
I don't see a way for him to be at peace until his killer is dead.
Peace for me does not exist, at least. All I want to do is bring it to him.
Flashes of him return in my mind as I close my eyes. His hand running down my cheek. His desperate eyes every time he kissed me when he knew he wasn't supposed to. His hand slipping from mine as it went cold...
I open my eyes and push the thoughts away, shaking my head as I start to pace. I can't let it in. I won't let it in. If I let it in, I won't survive it. If I let it in, I might let go. I'm never letting go. Never letting go.
"Sage..." a gentle voice startles me from behind.
I turn with my hand on my heart to find Uncle Anton giving me sympathetic eyes as he slowly approaches me. He watches me cautiously like I'm a wild animal ready to bolt.
"Fuck. You scared me," I say.
He gives me a weak smirk and then looks off into the distance at the grave. "You're not going to go in?"
I shake my head. "No. I can see just fine from here."
Anton stands next to me in stoic silence, only the whistle of the wind between us. Finding the words has never been his forte. "You haven't been to visit in a long time."
"I don't need to get any closer," I snap.
Anton nods. "I get it."
"You don't," I say, immediately regretting the words because I know he does.
"You could always place fresh flowers and then just walk away." He places a gentle hand on my back and smiles kindly at me. I can't bear to see the sight of it. "It doesn't have to be a big deal. I can go with you."
"Won't help," I say, shrugging him off and folding my arms.
"What is it you're afraid of?"
I roll my eyes. Mostly because I'm not sure I could tell him. I'm afraid of nothing. I'm afraid of everything.
"When was the last time you visited Aunt Emma's grave?
" I ask, pushing the attack back on him.
I recognize that I'm lashing out by turning his own past against him so I don't have to face my own.
I can see it in the little line that forms on his brow, like a cut directly down into his heart, how much my words have hit their mark.
"Well.. that's-" he begins, stuttering to find his words. "It's-"
"Different?" I surmise. "How?"
Anton sighs and shakes his head. "It just is."
"Because it's been too long. Because you've forgotten," I scoff.
Something about that softens him and he returns from defensiveness into a mask of compassion. "You're afraid of forgetting."
My breath hitches, and if I let them, my tears would fall instead of remaining bottled up behind a wall. The question leaves me shy and unsure. Because why would he even ask that? I could never forget. I could never forgive.
I don't need to say more. Anton already knows. "I have never forgotten Emma. Her memory lives on in my heart. I don't beat myself up about not visiting her grave. I know she's here. With me. Wherever I go."
My eyes well and I strain to the point of pain to stop any tears from falling. This is the exact opposite of what I want. This is why I don't go into the cemetery.
"Anima mia, no matter what happens, I promise you, he will never be forgotten. Ni-"
"Don't!" I rush to say, heart pounding at the thought of hearing his name out loud. "Don't speak it!"
Anton looks more perplexed than ever but just nods.
"I don't want to move on," I admit, staring at the ground to try to quell the panic.
"There is no moving on. Only moving forward."
My eyes lift slowly to meet his. I see nothing but concern and empathy.
It's hard to keep lashing out at him. I know he's been in my position before.
I also know he's never loved anyone else.
I've never seen another woman on his arm.
Perhaps he is right. Perhaps there is no moving on. Anton certainly didn't.
It's a trait I admire in him.
"Are you... healed?" I ask.
Anton smiles. "Never. Only more numb." His smile grows until he chuckles to himself. I have no idea what he finds so amusing.
"So I can... hope to become more numb?" Maybe numb would be nice. Maybe it would be better than all-consuming guilt and anger.
"Yes," he agrees, smiling back at me. "Numb is a wonderful feeling."
"I believe you," I say, finding a giggle that I didn't expect.
"Come. Let's go home," Anton says. He goes to wrap his arm around my shoulder, but just as he does his face darkens instead. He poises to strike at whatever he sees when suddenly I'm shunted from behind and go face first into the grass.
"Sorry. Couldn't let you touch her before I took my shot," Alexei says, winking at Anton before he comes for me. I try to crawl away but a boot hits my back and shoves me harder into the ground. "Going somewhere, princess?"