“What’s that look for?” I ask, scrunching my nose.
“I think you’ve learned from your past mistakes,” she grins.
“What do you mean?”
“Well… you’re letting her choose for herself. You aren’t trying to force, manipulate, or control the situation. It’s the right thing to do, Adrian… I’m just… I’m proud of you. That’s all.”
A dry chuckle rumbles through me.
“It’s really difficult being a nice guy,” I joke, stealing a quick glance at Anka.
She packs up laughing.
Relief washes through me, and I laugh with her. At least we can joke about it now. Maybe not fully. Maybe not all the time. But we’re at a point where we can be open with each other and have a laugh about things.
Anka and I talk for a while longer before she stands up to go. “Ok, well, I’m glad I stopped by. And I’m really glad you spoke to me,” she smiles, hugging me goodbye. This time, I give her a proper hug with both arms.
She laughs. “That’s so much better,” she says, burying her face against my chest.
“Thanks for listening,” I grin.
“Thanks for sharing,” she says.
***
It’s early evening when I go in search of Athena. Maybe I can just try to talk to her. Say hi. Ask her what she wants for dinner. It doesn’t have to be so tense between us. The longer I let the space between us grow wider, the worse it will get, and I don’t want to lose the connection we are slowly building.
After searching the house, I check the security cameras and spot her downstairs in the playroom. It surprises me.
Heading down there, I walk in to find her sitting on the training mat with the handgun in front of her.
She looks up, getting a fright when she sees me. “I promise it’s not loaded!” she blurts out immediately. “I just wanted to practice handling it,” she says quickly.
“It’s ok,” I smile, walking over to her. “What are you practicing?” I ask, crouching next to her, to look at what she’s doing.
She has the magazine out, and the slide pulled backward, locked in place.
“I was practicing putting the magazine in and out and how to hold the gun and uh, cock the slide thing. It’s not that easy to pull it back. It takes a lot of strength.”
“It does take some getting used to,” I smile. “Do you want to put some bullets in and shoot a bit?”
“Yes, I wanted to, but I didn’t want to do it alone,” she smiles nervously. It’s easy to sense the tension between us, but I’m determined to make light of it so we can move past what happened.
“Well, I can help you. I’ll grab the bullets; you get the earmuffs.”
She stands up and eagerly walks over to the hanging area, where earmuffs and other items are hooked into a neat wall system. When I get to the range, she has the gun on the table and the earmuffs around her neck. She hands me a pair.
“Thanks,” I say.
I open my mouth to say more.Sorry that you felt pressured the other day. Sorry for what happened. Sorry for…it all sounds stupid in my head, so I just say, “Ready?”
She nods.
I stand behind her, looking over her shoulder while she loads the bullets one by one into the magazine. Then she slides it into place inside the grip and does a tiny little dance of triumph. Except I’m standing pretty close, and the dance wiggles her hips against me.
I clear my throat, reminding myself that I’m not thinking about mischievous things. I’m just trying to make things right between us.
She lifts the gun, looking down the sight to aim.
