Oh shit. “What does that mean?” Aside from very bad things?
“It means that I’m retiring and going into hiding. Your mother is coming with me. Otherwise, I’d never see her again. I can’t live with that, not after everything we’ve been through to stay together. You are both…my life.”
My pulse ticked up a bit. I heard the sincerity in his voice, but his actions felt so wildly different. Words couldn’t undo years of being pissed off. This was…
“Such a fucking mess.”
“Dakota, I don’t approve of that language,” my father said. “We raised you better than that.”
“Did we raise me? Really?” Why the hell was I bringing this up now? It felt so petty, given the situation. Yet, there I was, summoning my old ghosts. “Can I just talk to Mom?”
“We’re not done yet,” he said.
“Then say what you need to say.”
He didn’t respond immediately, and I almost thought he wouldn’t, so I was about to let loose, but then he said, “Every day, every step, every success and failure I missed was because I had to. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for not being there. However, life is never perfect, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Not when so many lives survived because I made that sacrifice.” The weight of his sorrow echoed in his breath. “But that’s all water under the bridge now, Dakota. It’s over. It’s time for me to put you and your mother first. Your lives and your happiness.”
As sad as the situation was, and as shady as my father might be, the fact that he’d give up everything to protect my mother and be with her, redeemed him in my eyes. Almost.
“Does she know about that woman?” I asked.
My father was silent for several moments. “The other woman was a decoy. A highly trained, highly paid, decoy wife who knew how to protect herself. I’ve always had one because she kept anyone from suspecting my real wife lived safely in the suburbs with little to no protection. Your mother always insisted on keeping things separate. Obviously, I lied to her and embedded people all around you two, but I’ve never been unfaithful to your mother. I would never hurt your mother like that. Or you. Your happiness is everything.”
“Oh.” Well, that sort of made me feel better. My father was a liar and shady, but not a cheater.
“This is why I’m letting you choose, Dakota. You can come with me and your mother—I planned for something like this to happen and can easily protect you both—or you can stay with Paolo.”
Too shocked to stand, I sat back down on the bed, hugging the sheet to my body.
I was about to ask why we couldn’t all go somewhere together, but that was stupid. My father would probably kick Paolo in the teeth the minute he saw him touch me.
In any case, my father had just told me that I could never go back to my old life, but somehow, I didn’t care. After nearly dying multiple times in recent months, I knew what was important. It wasn’t about looking to create an unattainable state of perfection sometime in the future. It was about living the life I had. Making the absolute most of every moment. The rest—how I’d finish school, where we’d live, how we’d stay out of sight—we’d have to figure out. But I wanted to live my life—my strange, strange life—with Paolo.
I sighed, knowing I’d miss my parents, especially my mother. “When will I see you again?” I asked, indirectly answering his question.
“When it’s safe.”
“How long?” I asked.
I heard the sadness in my father’s voice. “Paolo has access to enough money to last three lifetimes, and he’ll keep you safe.”
It spoke volumes about Paolo that my father kept trusting him with my life, but…
“How long?” I asked again.
Long pause. “Maybe never, Dakota.”
“Oh.” Tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t imagine never seeing them again.
Paolo slid his strong hand into mine and gazed at me with sympathy. He already knew what my father was telling me.
“Then I will pray every day that ‘never’ turns into just a few years.” Yes, maybe things would die down after a while, and we’d find a way.
“I’ll hope for the same, Dakota.” There was a quick pause. “I have to hang up. I’ve been on this line too long. I love you. Everything I did was because of that.”
“I know. I love you, too. And tell Mom I love her and miss her.”
“I will.”
“And, Dad?”
“Yes?”
“I lost my notebook, but if you figure out how to send me another one, I’ll write every day. Okay?”
He chuckled softly. “I’d like that.”
The call ended, and I handed Paolo back his phone. He quickly popped out the battery. I guessed it was to kill the signal.
“So you made your choice?” he asked.