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Abby’s face brightens at the mention of her mother. She got rid of a bad parent but gained a good one. That’s pretty fucking rich if you ask me.
Fedor reaches in his pocket and pulls out Abby’s passport. He slides it across the table toward her.
“What? Where did you get this?” she says, staring.
Then, realization flashes and she chews her lower lip. “Oh. Right. You got it from the French sisters. Good of them to get it to you.”
Yeah. I won’t explain they were paid for their bad deeds, for bringing Abby to us. She’s had too much shit happen recently to deal with another betrayal.
But I can promise one thing.
These are the last betrayals she’ll face. The three of us will protect her with our lives if we have to. No one will mess with her again.
And live to talk about it, that is.
“So, you’re returning this to me. What does that mean?” she asks.
I kind of hate to say the words, but it’s time. “You… can go wherever you want, now. With your dad gone, you’re safe. You’re free.”
Of course, I don’t want her to leave. None of us do. But that’s up to her. If she wants to split and never see us again, that is her right. We can keep her no longer. And this is the moment of truth.
Stunned, she takes the passport, turning it over in her fingers like it’s something strange and foreign. She squints, trying to read the meaning of our gesture, our granting her the freedom she’s wanted for so long. It’s come as a surprise to her and she doesn’t know what to make of it.
Are we kicking her out?
Are we asking her to stay?
Or something in between?
“Um, well, what about you guys?” she stammers.
“What about us?” Ilya asks.
“Well, you can’t live without me, especially now that you’re going to be fathers,” she taunts.
Truer words were never spoken.
We look at each other and burst out laughing. Yeah, she’s making a joke, but it’s actually pretty fucking true.
“That’s funny,malishka, because I was thinkingyoucan’t live withoutus,” I say.
She smiles, pushing wild hair off her face, and takes a good long look at each of us.
“You’re right. That’s why I’m not going anywhere. And neither are any of you.”
* * *
EPILOGUE
For all the time I spent thinking about how to get away from Ibiza, when it was finally time to go, I was sad. Like tears in my eyes and lump in my throat sad. My life changed so much on that little island—some for the better, some for the worse—but all in all, I’m pretty sure I’ve come out ahead.
What started out as a reluctant visit with the French girls turned into one huge wild ride, one that most couldn’t even fathom. People go to Ibiza for its beautiful beaches and sunshine, and to let their hair down by partaking in the glitz and glamour of the island’s nightlife. If I were a different person, I might have really lived it up there and gone a little wild like those French sisters who lured me there in the first place. But that wouldn’t have changed the outcome of my visit, so what difference does that make? I would still have been a target for Bogdan, Ilya, and Fedor, who thought they could use me as leverage to get my dad to do what they wanted. Little did they know, I was about as worthless to my father as my mother had once been. We were disposable to him, the two of us. And the deceit, there was just no end to it. I grew up believing I’d been abandoned by mother, and will spend the rest of my adulthood knowing I was really abandoned by my father.
It hurts when I think of it that way. So I try not to.
Although I wonder what I will tell my child someday when they ask. Maybe the truth will have to suffice. Time to break the cycle of dishonesty, no matter how ugly reality is.
As things calmed down after our return from Miami, I was actually able to finally enjoy the island—at least to the extent a pregnant woman could. Alcohol and late nights were obviously off the table, not that I missed them. In fact, I was happy to have a solid excuse to go to bed early every night and take my afternoon naps, especially in the early weeks of my pregnancy. But that didn’t keep me from swimming in the ocean in my little white bikini—that is, until I got too big to wear it. To keep in shape, I took lots of hikes with my Bonita puppy, who has taken to guarding my growing abdomen like it’s her own baby in there. The only person she lets touch my belly without a yip or a growl is my mother.
