Ava
When my phone chimes in my pocket, alerting me of a notification three days later, my entire body goes numb as I stare at the words on my screen that seem to drown out the careless chatter all around the hallway.
It’s a text.
But it’s not just any text, no, it’s the kind of text you don’t expect to get on a warm Tuesday afternoon after trudging back and forth between classes all morning. It is also the kind of text that makes my heart stop beating in my chest and nausea rolls through me, twisting my gut painfully.
Unknown: We need to talk. Meet me at the cafe on the 5th. Tell no one. Love Dad.
My grip tightens around my phone and a chill runs down my spine, curling at the end as I reread the words displayed on my phone screen.
It wasn’t a normal text message a daughter hoped to get from her runaway father after he disappeared for two months. It didn’t hold any hint of casualty, or at the very least, formality. It was cold, straight to the point and if it weren’t for the last two words on the screen, which were my father’s infamous imprint to me whenever he texted, I would’ve thought I was being pranked, maybe even scammed.
My stomach churns and panic mixed with fear crawls under my skin, coiling tightly around my ribs like a vise.
How did he get my number?
And most importantly, why was he reaching out now?
Had he seen me at the hospital?
Was he there on purpose?
What did he want to talk about?
The questions pile one after the other, ripping my mind into tiny shreds.
A hand grips my shoulder and I whip around, half startled and then relieved when I find Cara watching me with a curious look in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, voice edged with worry, “You just stopped walking in the middle of the road. Are you okay?”
No, I’m not okay.
My father, who disappeared for months, has now reappeared and wants to talk to me.
Cara is the only one I’ve spoken to about meeting up with my brother and then seeing my father at the hospital. She looked surprised when I told her about my father’s return, but the shock soon faded and in its place stood concrete adamance. Adamance that I stayed the hell away from my father because “If he was back then it can’t be good”
Cara’s words had struck a nerve that day when she said it and I hated to agree with her, but she was right. My father wasn’t the kind of man who just showed up without reason. If he was back, it was either he was tired of playing dead and he wanted something, or he had no choice but to come out of hiding.
I force out a shaky breath, raising my chin and tuck my phone back into my pocket, pasting on a weak smile. “It’s nothing.” I say, scratching the back of my neck with an index finger, “Just a text.”
Her eyes narrow. “Just a text?” she repeats and I nod.
“Call me crazy, but ‘just a text'” she curls her fingers in mock air quotes, “doesn’t have you looking like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Shit. Well, she’s got me there.
One disadvantage of having Cara as my best friend is that she knows me better than I know myself and I know her just as well, which is why lying to each other is something we both are terrible at.
“Can we just drop it?”
“No.” she says simply, then adds, “Who is the text from?”
I hesitate, my lips press downwards and I nibble on my bottom lip.
“My father.” I admit, voice barely above a whisper.
The word father almost sound unreal, rolling off my tongue and I want to laugh because… well because if I didn’t I just might have to face the reality of my father’s text.
Cara’s expression darkens, and she fixes me with a look I know all too well. “Ava-”
“He wants to meet up.” I tell her, cutting her off before she can utter another word. My pulse hammers in my ears as I swallow the lump forming in my throat, forcing myself to continue. “At a cafe on the fifth. He said to tell no one.”
Cara’s jaw tightens, the anger in her shoulders clashing with the worry on her face. “That sounds like a damn setup.”
“I know,” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Then you’re not actually thinking of going, right?” She crosses her arms, eyes narrowing.
My silence must give me away because her eyes widen as realization dawns on her features.
“No,” she says firmly. ‘There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk into whatever trap he’s set. Absolutely not.”
“Cara-”
“No. I don’t care. You do not have my permission to go. I won’t let you go and meet up with a man who sold you to save himself. Twice! For Christ’s sake Ava Have you thought of how dangerous this could potentially turn out to be if it is a trap?” Cara’s voice rises, drawing a few curious glances our way from students passing by and that’s all it takes for me to realize that we’re having this conversation in the middle of the hallway.
I grab hold of her arm and drag her into one of the nearby classrooms. Luckily, it’s empty, and I let go of her and shove mine through my hair.
“I know you might not agree with my decision, but this could be my only chance to get the answers I need.”
“Answers?” She scoffs. “Ava, the only answer you need to know is that your father is a selfish, manipulative bastard who only looks out for himself. Hell, for all we know, this could be another one of his attempts to, I don’t know, give you back to the Moretti’s”
I chew on my bottom lip, weighing her words. She could be right. What if this was a trap? What if I was walking right into something that I might not be able to walk out of? Every part of me screams at the possibility that my father might be plotting something, but there is another part of me, a smaller part, much quieter than the rest that wonders, what if it isn’t?
What if my father was finally back to take responsibility for all the damages he’s caused me for once?
“Ava, please, be reasonable about this. Do you really think that your father would just pop out of nowhere for some quality father daughter time?”
“Why do you find that so hard to believe?”
She looks at me like I’ve sprung a second head somewhere in between our conversations.
“We are talking about the same man who sold you, right?”
Hurt slices through me at the reminder. The raw ache clings to my chest and I look away. Cara must see the way my expression falters because her face softens and she tilts her head back slightly, red hair bouncing with the motion, and lets out a sharp exhale.
“Ava,” she says, her voice gentler now. “I’m not trying to hurt you, You know I would never willingly do that to you, but you need to see things for what they are. Your father doesn’t care about you. He never has because if he did, you wouldn’t have been an option to him to begin with.”
My lips press together. She’s right, I know she is my, but is it wrong that I hope she isn’t?
“I just… I need to see him,” I whisper, more to myself than to her.
“Why?”
I don’t answer.
Cara shakes her head in frustration. “What about Nikolai?”
I flinch.
I haven’t let myself think about that yet.
Cara might know about everything else, but she has no idea the real reason Nikolai, and I have stayed married as long as we have. While there’s no denying that my feelings for him have grown significantly and there was a shit in our relationship, I have no idea how he would react to news of my father being back.
He always intended to kill my father, and as far as I know, that hasn’t changed.
If Nikolai found out that my father was back and wanted to see me, there was no doubt in my mind that he would find us-if only to put a bullet through my father’s skull.
And that wouldn’t be pretty.
“I’m not going to tell him,” I say, dragging my gaze back to hers, “And you aren’t either.”
“He’s going to find out eventually,” she says and I let out an inaudible sigh.
“I know but …”
“But what Ava. Please, for once just listen to me. I’m telling you that this is a bad idea and if you valued my opinion as your best friend, you wouldn’t go ahead with whatever this is.”
I swallow hard, staring at Cara, knowing she means well but also knowing she can never fully understand why this was so important to me. Unlike me, Cara had two loving parents and siblings who adored her. The only sibling I had, ran off to join the mafia and my father, the one parental figure I had left in this world, had sold me and was now begging for an audience with me in the most ridiculous of ways after disappearing for weeks.
“I have to do this.” I tell her.
“No, you don’t,” she presses back
“Yes.” I lift my chin, “I do.”
Cara pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering something I can’t make sense of.
“What if he hurts you?”
“He won’t,” I say firmly. My father may be a lot of things but he would never put his hands on me.
She steps towards me, eyes firmly holding mine, “I don’t mean physically Ava.” she says, pressing a finger to my temple, “I mean emotionally.” She drags the same finger to the center of my chest and taps twice.
“I don’t want to see you getting hurt again. Not by him, and I’m scared that you going to see him might do just that.”
Her finger feels like it’s poking through my chest, straight to the parts of me I try so hard to keep locked away.
I force a smile, gently wrapping my fingers around her wrist and pushing her hand down. “I know that you’re worried about me and I’m thankful for that, Cara,” I say. “Truly I am, but you have to believe that I know what I’m doing. Are you right about this being a trap? Probably, but if you aren’t, who’s to say that my father doesn’t run off again and I miss out on my one chance to talk to him?”
For what might be the last time? I don’t add that part, but even without it I can see the understanding flicker in her gaze, quickly followed by reluctant acceptance.
She shakes her head, letting out a frustrated sigh and rubs her temples, “You’re so damn stubborn, Ava, you know that?”
A wry smile curls my lips. She isn’t wrong about that.
“Fine. Then I’m coming with you.”
“No,” I say almost instantly, stopping her. The last thing I wanted was her getting involved in whatever this was. If she was right and this was indeed a clever trap set up by my father, her coming with me would only lead to more harm than good.
She lifts a brow and I let out a sigh, gripping her shoulders.
“Promise me that you will not follow me”
She hesitates, obviously reluctant to give in to my request.
“Please.” I beg, “The last thing I want is for you to get involved in this.”
Cara’s lips press into a thin line, her eyes searching my face. “Fine,” she mutters, releasing a huff.
“Say it.”
She squeezes her fingers together and then release.
“I promise not to follow you.”
Relief washes over me and I drop my hands from my shoulders and take a step back.
My classes for the day would not be over for another two hours, which means that I had enough time to go meet my father and come back before Benjamin returned to pick me up later.
I promise Cara to call her if I need her, and with that, she leaves.
It doesn’t take long after that for me to find myself in a cab, on my way to the cafe my father had chosen for our reunion.