When I walk through the hospital doors, I don’t know if I should walk fast or slow. Or just turn back and go home.
I don’t even know how the fuck my father knows I’m here.
Or alive.
To him, I should be dead and no longer a concern of his. How did he suddenly wake up from a five-month coma we were told he wouldn’t make it back from?
And ask for me? Me, of all the people.
What about fucking Viktor? His fucking beloved. Or my other brothers. Surely, he wants to see them, too. Maybe they’re already here.
With every step I take, I ask myself what I’m actually doing.
What kind of fool am I to want to see the man who ordered my death and had my mother killed?
But that’s just it—Idowant to see him.
Months ago, when I was here, it was different. Talking to someone asleep is not the same as when they’re awake and they can see all that you want them to.
I guess I have today to do that. I’m just not sure it will go the way I think.
I’m meeting Leif here; we’re going to see my old man together. That’s what Leif decided.
I take the elevator up to the floor my father’s room is on, and when I step out, I see Leif ahead waiting by the room door.
He sees me, too, and meets me halfway.
Worry taints his face, but he still rests his hand on my shoulder for his usual greeting.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I don’t know. How did he know about me?”
“The doctors explained that you can hear what’s going on when you’re in a coma. You just can’t wake up. Someone must have told him about you. Or maybe it was you.”
Maybe itwasme. “I don’t know what to expect or if I should be doing this.”
“Me neither, but when I got the call, I realized this is something you might regret if you didn’t do it. The doctors said he’s very weak and it’s nothing short of a miracle that he’s awake. And alive. The others are on their way, but he’s asking for you.”
I grit my teeth. “Alright. Let’s do this. Let’s go see him. Maybe he really wanted to see for himself if I was alive. I can face him and let him see he didn’t win.”
“Spoken like a true Viking. Let’s go.”
We walk toward the room, and Leif opens the door.
Numbness fills me when my gaze falls on my old man in the bed staring back at me.
He’s slightly propped up on his pillows and is still attached to a multitude of tubes, but he’s awake, and we see each other.
Leif takes the lead, walking ahead of me like I still need protection, like I’m still the helpless boy he rescued from the fire that should have killed me.
My father keeps his eyes on me the whole time, and there’s a sad look in his eyes that doesn’t quite fit the situation.
“Evgeni, you are awake,” Leif states boldly.
“The life is draining from my body.” He sounds weak and like his voice is hanging on to the edge of the wind. And he’s still looking at me while talking to Leif.
I wonder if he’s taking in our striking resemblance the way I did weeks ago. Seeing him awake now makes me do it again, and I almost think I’m looking at the older version of myself in about thirty years from now.