His nostrils flare. “The doctors never found anything when we took her. Do you know how much money we spent on specialists?”
Why is it always about money?
“Well, guess what,” I say crudely, squaring my shoulders back. “The doctors you hired were yes-men. They told you what you wanted to hear to get her back on the ice. She never wanted to be there, but you refused to listen. You pushed her and pushed her until she nearly broke. Do you really blame her for not wanting anything to do with you? Forsettlingfor a man like me if it meant getting away from the person who controlled her like a pawn rather than a human?”
Mikhail does not like that. Not one bit.
His hand grips my shirt, yanking me forward until I nearly lose my balance as my thighs press against the edge of his desk. “There have been Olympic athletes with severe lateral sprains and tendon damage who still competed in the Games and were able to win gold medals. It is not uncommon for people like us to encourage their children to push past the pain. Yokavs arestrong. We are determined—”
“You arefools,” I correct him. “You may not have seen what all of your rigorous training did to Emaly, but I did. Sasha saw it too, but was too afraid of you to stand up for his sister. She was hurting every single day. She was struggling every single day. She pleaded with you to stop skating because she couldn’t handle it. And you saw that as weakness. Emaly isn’t Kerri Strug or any of the other athletes who pushed through their injuries for the sake of a medal. She neverwantedthat life. She wantedto make a difference. What she’s doing nowisher happy place. You’re going to have to accept that and back the fuck off.”
Mikhail’s jaw twitches as he slowly releases my shirt and shoves me away. I stand straighter, catching myself before I stumble. “You did not answer my question.”
I did. He just isn’t accepting it.
There’s a lot that I can’t say about Emaly. I promised I would keep her secrets to myself until she was ready to explain them. It was her choice about who to tell and who not to.
So, all I say is, “Yes, she is. But you already knew that. And you’re choosing to take it out on me because some illnesses are out of our control. Some of them can’t have money thrown at them to cure it. You’ll have to live the rest of your life knowing that you continuously pushed your only daughter away when she needed you the most.”
He clenches his jaw. “I care more than you think.”
I shake my head. “I don’t buy that for a fucking second, Yokav. There’s always a motive at the end of the day, and it only benefits you. Stop pretending like you care.”
“If I didn’t,” he says, as I walk toward the door, “then why would I ensure you’re on this team? The only way to keep my daughter in our lives is through you.”
I pause. Is that what he really thinks? I turn to face him slowly. “Most fathers would simply be there for their children for no reason at all. I wouldn’t know what that’s like, as you well know. My father would probably be relieved if I wound up dead, but the feeling is mutual. If you want Emaly to be in your lives, how about you try being inhers? No ulterior motive. No threats. Just because you care, like you claim you do.”
He doesn’t offer me anything. Not a nod, not a blink, not a single action that shows he heard me or my advice.
I huff out a dry laugh. “Who am I kidding? Some people just aren’t cut out to be parents.”
I refrain from flipping him off as I walk out of his office, no matter how badly I want to. I hear him say something in a different language, then a loud crash from a distance. I don’t stop to see what he threw or hit. I don’t care.
Because, unlike him, I can admit it.
*
I finally callEmaly back when I’ve cooled off from my meeting with her father, but she doesn’t answer. She doesn’t see the three texts I sent after leaving a voicemail either. It isn’t uncommon for us to miss each other, given her hectic work schedule and the time difference between the coasts. She always gets back to me when her shift is over or whenever she wakes up.
When my phone buzzes with an incoming call, I pick up, thinking it’s her. “It’s about time,” Ashton says, sighing. “Are you done ignoring me now, or do you plan on keeping up this charade? We’ve got things to discuss.”
My free hand grips the steering wheel, twisting until it makes an unruly sound against the leather. “I think I said everything I had to the last time we spoke.”
Uncharacteristically, my manager is silent.
He’s usually the first one to speak up and insert his opinion where I least want it. Hell, it’s a wonder he didn’t show up at my house after the phone call we had.
When Ashton speaks, it’s obvious he’s had time to reflect on what happened based on the guilt in his tone. “I wish I could go back in time and prevent my brother from getting in that car. If I could change the timeline of events, I would. I would have tried harder to get him the help he needed instead of brushing him off. I would have enrolled him in a program. He was an alcoholic,and I knew that. But I never,neverthought he would do what he did.”
Nobody thinks their friends or family are capable of killing people. It may have been unintentional, but every choice he made that led to the Brontes’ deathscouldhave been prevented. He made all the wrong decisions and has to live with it, just like Winter and her sister do.
“Nobody thinks that,” I tell him. “I didn’t think my parents were capable of half the shit they were. But we can’t control what they’re going to do, and we can only help them as much as they want to be helped.”
As mad as I am at him, I can’t hold a grudge forever. I understand that some people are beyond help. If he’d done more to offer his brother some resources, it would have been better than turning a blind eye. But what’s done is done. Even if he had put Adam in a program, that doesn’t mean it would have worked. People have to actually try to get better, and it sounds like his brother didn’t want to. My mother and father didn’t either. It’s life.
“What pisses me off is that you knew who Winter was. It makes sense why you never wanted to go to any of the events if she was there. What I want to know is, why go through the trouble? Why lie about who she is to you if you feel so bad about your brother screwing up her life?”
It doesn’t add up. One second, he feels bad, but the next, he’s taking her off the Furrever Home event that she worked her ass off for. What is his motive?
