“Maybe you should rest.” Leif sounds tense, like when he’s doing something he really doesn’t want to do.
“No.” My father lifts his hand, and the heart monitor spikes. “I fear I haven’t got much time left, and I need to speak to my son.”
Leif looks at me, but I keep my eyes on the old man.
“Why do you want to speak to me,Father?”I can’t keep the angst out of my voice.
“It’s amazing. I could be looking at myself.” Something that looks like pain fills his eyes.
“I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to tell me.”
“No. I heard you. It could have been a lifetime ago, or maybe it was last week. I don’t know. You were here, talking to me and I heard you. Since then, I fought to come back so I could look upon you and make sure you knew the truth before I left this world.”
“You know the truth,” Leif cuts in, showing his rage.
“Brother, look me in the eye and tell me you believe I tried to kill this boy and his mother.”
His comment throws me off kilter and I give him a narrowed stare.
“I do not care what your eyes tell me,” Leif snaps, looking like he might rip my father to shreds. “Truth is truth. You sent your men to kill Fryeda and Desmier.”
“I did not,” he replies, and that numbness I felt previously returns tenfold. It increases when he returns his gaze to mine and intensifies his stare.
“You deny it?” I challenge.
“I don’t have to deny anything, because I am not guilty.”
What the hell is going on here? This is not the conversation I thought I’d have with him. “You expect me to believe that?”
Determination shines through his eyes. “I am on my death bed, and I have no reason to lie. It won’t serve me in this life or the next to tell you anything other than the truth. The truth is I would never have hurt either of you. I was told you died in a fire. Uther Sidorov gave me evidence of both your deaths. He said it was an explosion. I flew back to Russia myself because I needed to see. All these long years, that’s what I believed.” He looks back at Leif now. “And you kept the truth from me.”
“Fryeda told me your men were hunting her and her son. They actually saidyousent them.” Leif raises a fist. “She was getting ready to meet you whenyourmen attacked her at home. She barely managed to get away and call me for help. There was no way I would have told you I rescued Desmier when I believed you wanted them dead.”
“It was not me, brother. You knew how much I loved that woman. I would have loved my child the same way.” My father’s voice is more forceful, but it looks like the energy it took for him to speak has drained him immensely. I’m drained, too, for hearing him because it looks like he was set up. “I swear it on what remains of my life. I would never do that, but someone did.”
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
This is Uther’s doing. Fucking Uther again. And this must have been part of the Mark’s plan, too—to set my father up.
But why? I’m missing something.
Something key. Something which, once again, fucking Uther will know.
He was the harbinger of death and had to make sure all of this happened.
My father looks at me again and reaches for my hand. My stubbornness keeps me rooted to the spot, confused by the years of hatred, but that compassion Ehlga taught me touches the human parts of me, and I move to him seeing nothing but truth engraved in his face.
His hands feel so cold when they touch mine, but there’s a warmth in his eyes now, just for touching me.
“When your mother told me about you, I wanted to meet you.” His voice sounds even weaker now. “We were going to meet that night at the park. I waited for hours, but she never came. I feel like I’m still waiting, but I finally got to meet you, Des…mier. I was finally going to do what I wanted and marry the woman I loved. That’s what I was going to do.”
“Would you have?” My voice is softer as I imagine what my life would have been like if that happened.
“Yes.” He coughs, and his eyelids look heavy. “I would have. It was what Ishouldhave done when my parents forced me to marry a woman I didn’t love and deserved better. Now I love your mother with my last breath, and you the same. Desmier Volkova. I’m glad you took my name.”
His lips move slowly then stop. His hold on my hand loosens, but his eyes still hold me in place, keeping me frozen in time and the deep sentiment of his words. As if we could experience all the years we lost and the life we never had in this moment.
When his heartbeat on the monitors flatlines, I don’t want to look away from him and accept he’s dead.