I’m so uncomfortable. I don’t want to have this conversation.
But I need to. I make myself stay.
I do, however, need Vitali to close the distance that I’ve made because I can’t.
And he does it. He comes to stand beside me. He says, “I found someone that I think would be really good. If you want to try.”
“You found someone?”
“He understands the nature of our business, so you could tell him the truth. About what happened to you. And he’s worked with people who’ve been through … really hard things.”
For some reason, that makes my throat tighten. I don’t really think about things that way. As having happened to me. That makes me feel strange.
“And what’s the point?” I ask. My voice is sharp. I’m frustrated, and I don’t know why.
“To help—”
“I don’t want to be who I was before, if that’s the point.”
“That’s not the point, Roman.”
“I never liked who I was,” I say, compelled to argue even though Vitali isn’t arguing. I need him to understand this so I can clear it out, like that closet. “It was a relief to strip all that of away. I think that’s why I was able to do it. It was a fucking relief.”
Vitali takes that in. I stay focused on the pool, not looking at him, but I can feel him at my side, thinking.
Before he can say anything, I speak again. It’s so strange to feel words spilling out, but suddenly I can’t seem to stop them. “But I also can’t be what I am now. I’m dangerous to be around. I don’t like that.”
Vitali huffs, “And yet you saved my life, Roman. Have you already forgotten that? I fucking haven’t. When you got between me and that van? That bullet was meant for me, and it could’ve fucking killed you.”
It takes me a second to follow him, to remember. He’s right, I had forgotten. It was so automatic.
“You made me wear the vest,” I remind him.
“It could’ve hit you in the goddamn head, Roman. That vest wouldn’t have made one fucking bit of difference.” Now Vitali is the one who walks off. His hands come out of his pockets and scrape through his hair.
I’m not the only one who’s changed, I realize. He has too. He can still be cold and brutal. He has to be. But he’s more than that. He’s more than our father ever was. Vitali has rebuilt this family, with Quinn and Sasha, even with me and Lucas. He leads it better.
I’m so fucking glad he’s here. And not just instead of our father—I’m glad that Vitali, specifically, is here. I get it now, him saying that to me. I feel the same way. I’ve just been letting other things get in the way of it. Vitali was locked in my mind in a certain way, just as I was locked in his. But we’re getting used to each other. Every time I talk to him, I feel it more, probably because that’s when I let down the barrier that I’ve put between us.
It’ll probably creep back up, but it’s down now and I can see clearly for a second. I know why it was automatic for me to get between him and that gun. I know, too, what I wanted to say to him that night that I couldn’t figure out.
So when he comes back, all shaky and uncomfortable with me seeing how upset he is, I tell him, “I … love you, Vitali.”
“I fucking love you too, Roman, Jesus fucking Christ. Do you have any idea how much you fucking scared me?”
I huff a little because it’s so unlike Vitali and yet, so like him too.
We don’t touch. We both just stare at the pool, letting those words settle.
“I want you to do this,” he says after a while. “I really want you to do this.”
My heart skips. He’s circled back to the original topic. “I’m still thinking about it. I’m not sure. I’m just thinking.”
Vitali sighs. He’s not as patient as Lucas. But he says, “Okay. That’s fine.”
I’m at my limit. I know I need to talk to him again, but I can’t handle any more right now. So I walk away.
There was a time when Vitali might have called after me, been annoyed by my abruptness. But he accepts it, accepts me.
