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She froze when she saw him. Their eyes locked.
The moment seemed to stretch, long and ponderous, between them.
Then she glanced at the door across the hall from where she stood.
A clue.
She backed up, returning to her room and closing quietly behind her.
Roman’s chest felt heavy, as if someone had dropped a lead weight on it.
He made his way down the hall to the door across from his mother’s room. He opened it and stepped inside, closed it behind him.
The room was faintly lit by a single old-fashioned lamp, light leaking from behind its painted glass shade.
He let his eyes adjust and took in the rest of the room: the bed, a matching set of old furniture, his father laying in a hospital-style bed, a heart monitor beeping softly next to it.
Roman approached the bed carefully, like his father might rise from it any minute, screaming and insulting, or worse yet simply looking at Roman with scorn.
But Igor remained prone, eyes closed, breath barely visible in the rising and falling of his chest.
Roman sat on the end of the bed and looked down at the man who was his father, his tormentor.
His thick hair was greasy and uncombed and his skin was pale and waxen. His chest, marked with liver spots and a smattering of sparse gray hair was visible between the buttons of his pajama top.
When it was all said and done, he wasn’t a monster after all.
Just a man, albeit it a terrible one.
His eyes fluttered open, seemed to see something beyond Roman before they focused on his face.
“You…you…” The word was slurred, barely distinguishable.
“Hello, Father.”
Roman tried to recall a pleasant memory with his father and came up empty, although he was sure they were there somewhere, buried under the abuse that had eclipsed everything.
His father’s eyes strayed to the gun in Roman’s hand. “You… you…”
“Don’t worry about this.” He set the gun down and reached for the pillow next to his father’s head. “I don’t need it.”
He placed the pillow over his father’s face and held fast.
“Goodbye, Father.”
40
ROMAN
Max pulled next to the curb but kept the engine idling. “I think I should go with you.”
“I’m good,” Roman said, reaching for the door.
They’d been through this more than once.
Max watched him nervously as he exited the car.
Roman was about to close the door and head for the restaurant when he thought better of it.
