Yuri follows my gaze.
"I'll close the door behind me," he says, and right then my father knocks.
After Yuri leaves, I draw in a breath and look at the man in front of me. He has short gray hair, a white shirt tucked into jeans, a simple black belt, and comfortable black leather shoes. When I was little, I thought he was the most handsome man on Earth. He always smelled like mint and ocean, and I know for sure that Luna and I bought my first real boyfriend cologne inspired by him.
"I came to apologize," he says quietly.
For a second, I stare at him in shock.
"For what?"
"Everything. After you left with..." It takes him a moment to gather himself. "With your husband, I sat and thought about everything you said. And you were right."
I don't know why, but I expected this moment to feel better. This is what I wanted, isn't it? To hear him apologize, to admit I was right.
"Elena would've hated me if she'd seen how I abandoned you after she died, but Roxy..." He pauses again, like he's trying to pull himself together. "I loved your mother and hoped that someday she'd love me just as much. I loved her so much that I agreed to marry her even though she was carrying another man's child," he says, looking at me gently.
I think I hear my heart crack the second those last words leave his lips.
"Excuse me?" The words come out far too shaky.
He takes a few steps toward me, but I hold up my hand for him to stay where he is.
"I don't know who your father is. Your mother never wanted to discuss it. All I know is he was part of a dangerous world and didn't want you in that life. When she died, my first thought was about your father. I know they'd reconnected, I know that somewhere in her heart she was probably considering running away with you to be with him, but when I got home that night and saw her so fragile, so broken, with all that blood around her...it felt like those knives weren't just buried in her, but in me too. And then I found you. I've told you many times you have her eyes, but Roxy, everything else ishis. I knew that every time she looked at you, she sawhim. Even though you weren't even six yet, your personality was so different from your mother's, and I'd watch her look at your every action and word with adoration...because they reminded her of him."
My eyes are wet and I can't stop my hands from shaking. Why the hell didn't he tell me any of this before? Why didn't that man ever try to find me?
"Why didn't you tell me until now?" I ask, and I'm amazed at how my voice doesn't break.
"Elena left me custody of you, and when days turned into weeks and no one came for you, I accepted that you'd stay with me."
Accepted. Like I was a punishment, an extra burden.
"Now I understand why you never looked at me the way you look at Aria," I say quietly, staring down.
How naive was I not to see the signs? To never question why I didn't share more features with him? With his family? Why he avoided me for over twenty years of my life? Because it was easier to accept the idea that I was always doing something wrong than to admit my place was simply never there to begin with.
Is my real father The Bloody Dahlia? Did my mother refuse to leave with him, and in a moment of rage, he killed her?
My head is going to explode.
"I'm sorry, Roxy. You deserved someone better to guide you through life, but after her death...you simply became a constant reminder that I failed her."
"She's not the only one you failed," I say, and I see pain flash in his eyes for a split second.
Good. Because I want him to feel at least a fraction of what I'm feeling right now. For years I thought I was defective. I gave up everything that brought me joy—from sequins to overalls to eating with my hair down to speaking my mind—just to make him accept me. Love me. To stop looking at me so emptily. And I was never the problem.
"Leave, Eric."
That's all I say. He nods curtly and walks out.
After that conversation, all I want is to go home. When I leave the building, Stefan and another soldier are beside me. From around the corner of the building, I hear shouting and see Marco Agosti arguing with my father.
My eyes narrow on Marco's face as I recall Eric's earlier words.
All I know is he was part of a dangerous world.?
My mother always called meamorino?as a term of endearment.But it can't be...
