“We need to talk, son,” Dad says without any inflection.
“Lidya, darling,” Mom says. “Do you mind stepping out for a bit?”
Lidya throws her arms around me in a hug. “I want you to know that I love you to bits, and I’ll totally start a war for you, V.”
“Love you, too, Li.” I pat her, not sure what the hell is going on.
Can’t be good, though, because she whispers, “Can totally still smuggle you out. You just say the word.”
“I’m fine.”
She steps back, salutes with two fingers, then walks out, closing the door behind her.
Mom and Dad settle on the sofa in the sitting area, and I drop into the chair across from them, my weight sinking into the cushions. “Is something wrong?”
“Depends.” Dad slides his glasses up his nose, his expression so guarded, it makes me sit up straighter.
“Just tell him, Kirill,” Mom says softly, but her face is slightly pale.
Dad exhales, slow and heavy, before passing me the phone. “This came from Yaroslav.”
The name alone makes my mouth press in a line. Then I see the photo.
It’s grainy, shot from a distance in last night’s parkinglot, zoomed in to show Yulian and me. His hand is crushing me against the bike while his mouth devours mine.
It was both an angry and emotional kiss, and I briefly closed my eyes and gave in, because I can’t justnotkiss him.
By the time I remembered we were in public and tried to stop, the damage was done.
Someone obviously caught us.
“Is this what I think it is?” Mom asks softly.
I nod once, my mouth dry as I give Dad his phone. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. We’re not judging you,” Mom says. “We just want to understand the situation.”
“You started taking frequent private jet trips to see him, is that it?” Dad asks, his tone not as gentle as Mom’s, but it’s not harsh either.
“Yes.”
“The girl whom I assumed made you smile after Danika was, in fact, Yulian,” Mom says with a smile, and even though it’s not a question, I nod.
Fuck. I can’t believe they’re finding out this way. There’s no use denying it anyway, not with that type of evidence available.
And maybe…I’m too tired of keeping such a huge part of my life a secret and just need to let it out.
“How long has this been going on?” Dad asks.
“A few months, but in reality, it’s been…four years, Dad.” My voice wavers, the words burning on their way out. A part of me can’t believe I’m actually saying this for the first time, and to Mom and Dad, no less.
“Four years?” he repeats.
I nod. “I had strange feelings toward him four years ago at that summer camp, and they evolved after he took a bullet for me, and I just…panicked about having those feelings toward a guy, buried it all in that cave we were trapped in, and went out with Danika instead. I told myself it would just go away with time once I got back my control and my structured life.”
“It didn’t?” Mom asks sympathetically.
I shake my head. “I never experienced those strange feelings with Danika—no fire in my veins, no shivers under my skin, no instinct to guard her with my life. But with Yulian, four years ago, as he was bleeding out because of me, it felt like my entire purpose was to keep him safe. I smothered it, told myself it was adrenaline, trauma bonding, anything but what it truly was. And with the feud between us and Chicago, plus the fact that we’re both men, I convinced myself it was impossible. So I buried it deep and locked it down.
