She’s just finished laying out an elaborate series of plans and backup plans in the event that the Moretti boy comes to our territory to visit her. What would happen if she couldn’t handle it, and a handful of different escape routes for her to take in several different scenarios.
I should have known that Anya would be bringing up something significant after her therapist pulled me aside to talk after their session yesterday night. She gave me vague warnings about being gentle with my daughter if she comes to speak with me. To let her finish voicing her thoughts before I react to thewords she shares. She told me that it’s imperative that I allow Anya to take her time to explain herself, and that all is well.
Now that my daughter has put it all out there, I don’t know whether to be terrified, or relieved.
I’m glad that she’s been able to work out what she needs to be comfortable in therapy, but I’m hesitant to agree to her plans. It’s evident that she’s already spoken to Matteo about these possibilities, as she assured me over and over again (without probing on my part) that the boy wouldn’t be insulted or upset if she needed to leave abruptly when they meet again.
It makes things more difficult for me, hearing how seemingly patient and accommodating he is with her. On one hand, I should expect nothing less. I’d want his head slashed off his shoulders if he was anything other than a perfect gentleman towards her. But on the other hand, it makes me uncomfortable when I think about his possible motives for acting in such a way.
He says he only seeks her friendship, but I find it hard to believe that he’s not half in love with her already. They talk on the phone constantly, and now they’re discussing him coming to visit much sooner than I would have expected. The wedding wasn’t too long ago, and it seems that in a matter of weeks, the two of them have become inseparable.
“Dad?” Anya whispers, her soft hand landing on top of mine to get my attention. “Can you say something? Please?”
“I’m processing,” I reply gruffly. “I didn’t know you were thinking about meeting him so soon—” Or at all.
“Well, we don’t know if it will be soon,” she interrupts with a wince. Twisting her hands in her lap, she adds, “We’re planning for the future, whether it comes soon or months from now.”
The future in the context of discussing Matteo Moretti makes the hair on my arms stand up. I’ve decided that he’s earned a chance to get into my good graces, but I still don’t trust that he won’t try and steal my daughter away one day.
“And you spoke with Tiffany about this?” I confirm in an airy question. “So you could decide how best to approach the prospect?”
“She brought up the idea of backup plans,” Anya agrees, retracting her hand and nodding to herself. “She brought up how I felt so much more comfortable going to the wedding knowing that Uncle Lev would get me out of there if I needed it. She said that I don’t always need to use a way out, but sometimes it’s nice to just know there is one. Feeling trapped can make anxiety worsen, and I can’t feel trapped if there’s always an exit plan.”
It’s sound logic, but the idea of her needing an exit strategy makes my stomach twist. I want to say that I’d throttle the boy for making her so uncomfortable that she needs to flee, but Anya has been shaken by the most random things in the past.
One day only a few months ago she needed her emergency medicine because she woke up with a headache and was convinced it was going to kill her. A tumor or a sign of some other impending doom, but in reality, it was from a difficult night’s sleep.
Sometimes everyday life can be hard for my Anya, and if Matteo has agreed that she can abandon their visit at any given time without explanation, I doubt he’s going to do anything to push her in that direction.
“Do you hope that he visits soon?” I ask, searching her face for the answer before she can give it.
“I don’t know,” she replies, biting her lip with a flush spreading to her cheeks. “I think it could be nice to see him again, but I still feel weird about it.”
I want to jump at the chance to suggest if she feels odd about it, that she shouldn’t do it. Lev would do just that. But I’m not her overprotective brute of an uncle, I’m her father. I have to hold back my instinctive reactions so that I don’t upset her.
“Weird how?” I ask instead.
She hesitates.
“You can tell me,dochen’ka,” I encourage, trying to offer a soft smile to show her I mean it.
“I just…I don’t know, it seems like it would sound silly out loud.”
I don’t push further, waiting for her to go on if she wishes. And she does.
“I don’t know if he’ll enjoy visiting,” she admits quietly. “I don’t do anything outside of the house, and he’s so adventurous. He goes everywhere, all the time. He takes the twins to story time at the library, he visits his guard’s families on weekends sometimes, and he goes to local restaurants where people know him by name. He goes shopping with his brother Armani, to the store with their chef Martha, and goes for runs with Yordan.”
“The Todorov kid?”
I’d heard that the Moretti family took the Bulgarian mafia wards from The Casa Nostra the night of Dmitri’s wedding. Lev had seen it when Apollo, Cassio, and Yordan emerged from the ocean without the man married to Yordan’s older sister.
Abuse of a woman will always be disgusting in my eyes, but in the presence of Morettis? It’s not only vile, but it’s stupid beyond belief. They have a reputation for not letting that slide, ever.
“Yeah,” Anya agrees, nodding along. “Apollo is mentoring him now and Matteo says they’ve become friendly. He’s apparently quite a good kid, very interested in becoming a good made man.”
I hum, taking in the information.
“But back to my point,” she trails off for a moment, shaking her head. “I just don’t know,Papochka. I don’t want him to visit and then never want to come here again because I’ve made it so boring and uncomfortable. I like our friendship, but what if he doesn’t want to be friends when he realizes how dull my life can be?”
