He’d be wrong to think that. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t play into those assumptions.
“Actually, I was hoping to speak with you in person,” I said in a gentle tone. “Your assistant said you’re on the way to Chicago, so maybe I can see you while you’re in town.”
I felt bad about what this confrontation would do to my stepmother, but I hoped that she would understand and forgive me. Arranging this meeting was something I owed to Anja and to Max, but I was doing it for Michelle as well. She deserved to know who my father truly was.
“What’s this all about?” he asked impatiently. “I have back-to-back meetings both days, and my fucking doctor’s still telling me I need to be ‘resting.’ As if the country’s problems can wait just because I feel a little under the weather.”
Even though I was furious at him, even though I knew he was a liar, I still felt a twinge of pity. My father was not good at facing anything that reminded him of his own mortality.
“What about after work hours?” I asked. “Surely you can spare an evening for your only child? It’s important.”
I was laying it on thick—and with the knowledge that by the end of our meeting, he would know that I wasn’t his only child anymore—Anja needed resolution, and the longer we postponed this confrontation, the more likely it would be that the news about Max would get to my father some other way. Or that Anja would back out, maybe flee and go into hiding again. I couldn’t risk that.
Through the phone I could hear the boarding announcement repeating something about priority seating and families with children.
“Please, Daddy?” I said, hating that I had to resort to little-girl speak but knowing he’d be powerless against it.
He huffed. “Fine. Why don’t you come over to the condo after dinner tonight? I can spare maybe an hour. I gotta go.”
“Thank you!” I crowed, feeling triumphant. “Fly safe. I’ll see you later.”
We hung up.
I had conveniently left out the part about bringing other people with me.
After I got home from school that night, Stefan and I called our private car and picked up Anja, who was leaving Max with the same babysitter Gretna had recommended the night of our family dinner. Max had basked in the older woman’s grandmotherly doting on him, and didn’t even put up a fight at being left home with her and his pile of new toys, courtesy of me.
Then, somber and tense, we drove over to my father’s condo, prepared to confront him with the consequences of his actions from all those years ago.
Anja was twisting the hem of her sweater into knots, so I gently took one of her hands and squeezed it. She was shaking a little, and I didn’t blame her. I was so nervous that I could actually feel the thumping of my heart in my chest.
At least Stefan seemed calm and collected. Just being near him, my leg pressed against his, made me relax. A little.
The car pulled up in front of the building, and for a moment none of us moved.
“Are you ready?” Stefan finally asked.
He had directed the question at Anja. Her face was pale, but she nodded, her gaze steely.
“I’m ready,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
The three of us got into the elevator and with each floor, I could feel my anxiety build. Stefan and Anja were silent and fidgety, respectively, so I guessed they were feeling the same. Seconds after ringing the doorbell to my dad’s place, I heard footsteps. I held my breath.
The door swung open, revealing my father’s tired face. Before he could register that I wasn’t alone, Stefan elbowed his way past, pulling me and Anja into the condo along with him.
“Evening, Senator,” Stefan said.
My father’s mouth drew into a firm line, but still he closed the door behind us.
“What the hell is this?” he demanded, following us into the sitting room.
He was very purposefully not looking at Anja. I had seen the flare of shocked recognition in his eyes when we’d pushed our way in, the way he’d looked immediately stricken at her presence.
Not just recognition—panic, too. Even though I’d never doubted Anja, my dad’s reaction to seeing her in the flesh basically confirmed everything she’d told us about their relationship. But if he thought we were here about his infidelity alone, he had quite another thing coming.
“You remember Anja Borjan,” Stefan said, gesturing in her direction.
Anja was standing tall but her face had gone pale, her eyes locked unwaveringly on my father. I went over and put her arm around her, causing my dad’s eyes to bulge out of his head.
