Be patient.
I rolled my eyes. It was easier said than done.
During this time of giving her space and letting her work through her grief or whatever it that she was going through, Icouldn’t help but notice how loyal she was to me anyway. If not to me individually, then she was still loyal to my family.
Loyal to her job.
“She doesn’t even take breaks, man,” the IT specialist said. He was assisting her with the investigation. He shook his head and grinned. “I mean, I can understand being curious and really getting into your project. I get like that too. Maybe she’s a gamer.”
I almost rolled my eyes again.
“She’s got that commitment to see something through, like getting to the next level.”
I doubted that she was a gamer. She wasn’t a computer nerd like him. She put a lot of pride in getting a job done well, and I admired her for it.
“Like, this shit can get frustrating, right? You can keep trying new leads and poking at things and if it doesn’t go anywhere, it’s fucking frustrating. I don’t think I’ve ever worked with somebody as determined as she is.”
“I know.” I appreciated his input and thanked him for the update he gave me, one of many scheduled ones so I knew what was going on.
It was one thing to admire her tenacity to work diligently and consistently, but the more that she proved to be a professional with what I’d asked of her, something in me shifted.
This went beyond loyalty. This was something more than her wanting to do a good job for the sake of knowing she had given it her best. And in the process of appreciating her willingness towork, I recognized that she was trying to dull the pain that she must’ve been feeling.
Instead of trying to take this step of making myself vulnerable and walking her home, of being near her when she needed space, I went to sit with my father. All six of us took turns checking in on him. He was never alone. Nurses and therapists and doctors we paid good money for were coming in to keep an eye on him. There wasn’t a chance that he was unmonitored.
Although he couldn’t reply or react, or even wake up for a long time, we still took turns checking on him. Perhaps it was a slow way of saying goodbye. But I hated myself when I went to sit with him and watched him sleeping and wondered if we were doing the right thing to let him go like this. In my mind, he was already gone. If it weren’t for his living will and his strict expectations that he’d be allowed to die naturally, it would’ve been better to put him out of his misery. Why would anyone want to watch a loved one suffer and pass slowly? There was zero chance of him coming back or being lucid enough to hold a conversation.
But damn, do I wish I could have one with you right now.
I sighed, staring at him, a husk of his former self. All my life, he’d been my mentor and guide. My mother passed away when Nickolai was born, but it was never only my father we had to rely on. My grandparents were always present too. So long as my grandfather was running the family, my father was free to be a present parent to all four of us. Apparently, with all four boys of his own and two nephews, we were treated to a very busy and full family life. There were never any questions of being alone.
Maksim and I were very close. Viktor and Nikolai were the annoying younger ones. Alexei and I were always bickering as the oldest, and Lev was always the “baby”.
My uncle had tried to ruin the family that one fateful day at a meeting with many leaders throughout the area. He succeeded in killing my grandparents, and he almost got his way when my father almost died. And he had paid for his crimes with his life that same day. Or so we thought.
I grimaced, watching my father’s chest rise and fall steadily as he slept. A plastic cannula rested over his nose, giving him more oxygen. While that pipe wasn’t intrusive in appearance, it was still a physical reminder that he wasn’t able to take care of himself anymore.
Almost dead.
But not dead yet.
Unlike… my uncle.
“He can’t be alive.”
I shook my head and exhaled hard.
“All this time, we’ve assumed he was dead, and he wants to come backnow?”
I muttered it, more like talking to myself than him. I didn’t want to be too loud in case it could disturb him. The last thing I wanted was for him to hear me and understand what I was saying. I couldn’t let him die with the knowledge that his younger brother who tried to kill him years ago might be a threat in the present for his sons and nephews.
Leaning back in the chair, watching him, I let out a deep breath. I wished I could talk to him about Elena, instead. He wouldn’t have had any advice for me, never a romantic man. He would’ve been practical, though, and probably would’ve wanted to hear all about how good she was with our books.
Even if I could talk with him, I didn’t know how to sum up what I thought about Elena. Every time that I considered lowering my guard and letting her know how much she mattered to me, it intimidated me. I was supposed to be busy planning to take over as a leader. To be the mighty one at the top. Admitting that a woman could hold any power over me—with desire and the hope to be loved—was a threat.
As I sat here and watched him, the last member of his generation, I respected and acknowledged what my brothers and cousins had told me. Elena had no one else. I killed her father. It was a necessity, but it didn’t change the fact that I’d removed the last of her family. I was only worsening this gap between us by letting her think she had no one.
Because she does.
