“Riighhttt.” I dragged out the word. “For the twenty-three and a half seconds it took for you to tell me you were glad I called, but you were busy and you’d get back to me as soon as you could. Which, I might add, you never did.”
Mom pushed away from the doorframe and moved closer, sitting on the arm of my chair.
He sighed, rubbing his temples as if he had a headache. Good.
“Tia,” he began, his voice softer. “Life is complicated. There are extenuating circumstances—”
“How do you extenuate walking out on your own child?”
“I asked your mom to move with us. She refused and wouldn’t give me custody of you.”
“That’s not how it happened, and you know it. You never asked for custody or visitation, for that matter. Don’t rewrite history now,” mom interjected.
There he went again, blaming everyone but himself. Just like Santo had blamed Kat’s actions for his manipulative scheme.
“Listen to me carefully, Dad.” I leaned forward. “I have no interest in having a relationship with you. I’ll be cordial to you at family gatherings to keep Gran Gran happy, but beyond that, there’s nothing left to salvage. I have no placeleft in my life for you.”
Mom placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. It was one of the hardest things I’d ever said.
“What about your brother and sister? They’re the only siblings you got. They shouldn’t have to suffer because you want to be stubborn?”
“I’m prepared to interact with my half-siblings, to have a relationship with them, as long as it is independent of you. Because none of this is their fault.”
I saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes, but it didn’t soften my stance.
“I wish you peace, Dad.”
I stood and made my way up the stairs to my bedroom, each step putting distance between me and the father who had broken my heart years ago. It was a painful rehearsal for the wound Santo had just inflicted.
26
The handcuffs bit into my wrist as I yanked against them for the hundredth time that day, the metal link between us clanking as my father’s arm jerked with my movement.
“This is kidnapping,” I snarled, glaring at my father, who sat beside me, both of us confined to the private jet’s leather seats. “I’m a grown man. You can’t just—”
“I can and I have,” he replied without looking up from his tablet. “Until you can demonstrate rational thinking, you’ll stay exactlywhere I can see you.”
From across the aisle, Yiayia clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Aristides, must you be so dramatic? Handcuffs, really?”
“Would you prefer he chased that poor girl across continents, Mother?” my father countered, not bothering to look up. “After what he did?”
Yiayia sighed, adjusting the cashmere shawl around her shoulders. “Of course not. That dear girl deserves peace after what our foolish boy put her through.” She fixed me with a withering look. “I’m simply saying there must be more dignified solutions than treating him like a common criminal.”
“I’m right here,” I muttered, testing the cuffs again and finding the metal as unyielding as my father’s resolve. The chain connecting us was barely fifteen centimeters long, forcing an uncomfortable proximity between us.
Theia Irida snorted from her seat beside Yiayia. “What you did to Tia was unconscionable, Chrysanthos. I’ve never been more disappointed.”
Her words stung more than her using my full name. Irida had always been my staunchest defender.
“Tia made you better, and this is how you repay her kindness?” she continued, her tone softening when she spoke of Tia.
“I need to go after her,” I pleaded. “She’s getting further away with every minute. If I don’t stop hernow—”
“Then what?” Domna interrupted. “You’ll force your presence on her after she explicitly asked to be left alone? Haven’t you done enough?”
My father’s dark eyes pierced mine. “You’ll chase her through America? Create an international scene? Force her to listen to your apologies while you’re still thinking like a spoiled child?”
I slumped back against the seat, the fight temporarily leaving my body.
