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Now, I’m walking towards his hospital room with Timofey Viktorov in tow.
“Actually, you can go home—er, to your penthouse,” I tell him quickly. “I’ll be fine here. Akim can pick me up.”
He arches a dark brow. “I thought you wanted to come with me.”
“I just didn’t want you to be alone. During this trying time.” My face burns with the lie. “But you want to be alone. I can tell. So go ahead. I can handle this.”
“I’m not going to abandon you to see your father on your own.”
For a moment, my hopes soar. Timofey cares. He wants to be here for me. He wants to support me.
“It would look bad in front of the nurses,” he continues. “If we’re a couple, I should be here with you.”
“Optics. Right.” I nod, trying to hide how crestfallen I am. “But you can wait outside.”
“No.”
The sharp tone surprises me, but when I look over, Timofey’s expression is flat. I know there will be no arguing with him.
Whether I like it or not, it’s time to meet the parents.
76
PIPER
The lights are dimmed and the curtains are drawn. The television in the corner is the main source of brightness, splashing color across the room. It’s some late night host playing a game where celebrities have to identify objects while blindfolded. A blonde woman I don’t recognize is stroking the handle of a golf club like she’s on the set of a porn movie.
My dad laughs, and I snap my attention to the bed.
He’s reclined back in the same position he was when I last saw him. His gown is loose around his shoulders so I can see too much of his too-prominent collarbone. His chin rests on his chest, making it look like he doesn’t have a neck.
I want to reverse back into the hallway and drag Timofey away from here. I don’t want them to see each other. I don’t want the two spheres of my life to turn into a Venn diagram. No overlapping.
But then my dad turns and sees me, and it’s too late.
“Pip?” My nickname is a greeting and a question at the same time. He looks at the clock. “Late for a visit. Am I dying or something? Did they call you to say your goodbyes?”
“I was just… in the neighborhood.”
“Huh. How ‘bout that.” He glances at Timofey but doesn’t acknowledge him. “You haven’t been in the neighborhood in a while. I figured you were done with me.”
“I’ve just been busy.”
“Too busy for your dad,” he says. He pshaws and waves his hands. “No, no, I get it. You have a life and I’m not a part of it. What young girl has time for a sick old man?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I protest, even though I wouldn’t be here if the nurse hadn’t forced me.
If I’m honest with myself, I may have never come back.
If I’mreallyhonest with myself, I knew I’d be back. That’s the worst truth of all.
“You are. A random late night visit, but hey, that’s great. The bare minimum is all I can expect.” He hits the button on the side of his bed and it rattles and groans as it tilts him up to a seated position.
I almost sit down in the armchair next to his bed, but that feels too permanent. I don’t want to put down any more roots in this room than I have to.
So instead, I stand halfway between the door and his bed, floating in the awkward expanse with my hands folded behind my back. “How are you doing?”
“My liver is shot to fuck, but I’m not dying today. I don’t think,” he adds with a phlegmy chuckle. “My heart isn’t doing too good, neither. They think I might need some fancy procedure to get it beating right, but with my liver the way it is, I might not be worth the insurance company’s time. That’s a belief the two of you have in common.”
