Fractured Souls - Page 56

“She’s eighteen, for God’s sake! You are too old for her. Asya needs someone her age. And definitely not an ex-convict.”

“You checked me out?”

“Of course I checked you out. I wanted to know the man who was keeping my sister from me. I even dug up videos of some of your fights.”

“Well, I hope they were entertaining.”

Arturo leans forward and pins me with his gaze. “You tried to steal my baby sister! An abused, hurt girl. You kept her from her family, even though you knew she needed us,” he spits out. “I don’t know what kind of sick fantasy you created, playing house with a teenager, and I don’t care. I won’t let you get near her again! Ever! My sister deserves better.”

“I know.” I rise and head to the stand by the front door where I keep some pens and paper. “I’ll give you my number. Call me if you need any help.”

I walk back and drop the paper on the coffee table in front of Arturo, then head toward the front door. “I’ll come back in two hours. Will you be gone by then?”

“No goodbye?” he raises his eyebrows.

“No,” I say.

“Good.”

I nod and leave the apartment.

* * *

I’m sitting in my car two streets down from my building when my phone rings. “Moonlight Sonata” surrounds me. I lean my head back and watch the cars passing down the street. The ringing stops but immediately starts again. I let it run its course, the sound reverberating through the small space. I could have silenced it. Every fucking tone feels like a knife to my chest, but I didn’t. The phone rings four more times, and I let it ring through every fucking time.

A message arrives. I take the phone off the dash and look at the screen. It’s a voice mail. I hit play.

“Pasha? What’s going on? Arturo said that you came home and left? Did something happen?” Rustling in the background. “We’re heading to the airport. I need to go see Sienna. She . . .” Sniffing. “My sister tried to kill herself. She thought what happened to me was her fault. I’ll stay with her for a few days and then I’m coming back. I’ll call you when I get there” Her voice sounded shaky. Was she crying?

The message ends. I hit play again. And again.

* * *

It’s almost midnight. I’m lying on the couch, gripping the phone as it continues to ring in my hand. I want to swipe that green button and take the call so much; it’s making me crazy. I don’t. My mind keeps replaying that one sentence Asya’s brother said.

You kept her from her family, even though you knew she needed us.

He was right. I should have contacted him to let him know she was safe. If I explained the situation, he might have agreed to wait until Asya was ready to face him. But I was too selfish and too fucking terrified that he would take her away from me. I could no longer imagine my life without her. The possibility of her leaving scared the fuck out of me and I was ready to do whatever was needed to make sure she stayed. So, I kept my promise to her and remained silent, a self-preserving son of a bitch. I became her fucking demon. No one deserves to be with such a person, especially not Asya.

I’ve always believed I would be able to measure love by how much I would want to be with a person. Deciding to be with someone for the rest of my life seemed like the pinnacle of love. Wrong. I understand things much better now. Knowing that Asya, the woman I love, will be better off without me, I had to let her go. Even though it hurts. Even when it’s shredding me on the inside. Maybe, if I loved Asya a little less, I would have found a way to keep her with me. I love her too much to do that to her, though, so I’ve let her go.

I should have answered the call. Said goodbye, at least. But I couldn’t. Hearing her say she’ll come back, but knowing that she won’t, I couldn’t risk speaking to her. I would have done something stupid, like make her promise she’ll return to me.

My eyes land on the piano near the living room window. Why didn’t she take the damn thing with her? I get up off the sofa and head into the kitchen to grab the toolbox from where I keep it under the sink. When I come back to the living room, I’m holding a hammer in my hand. Walking to the instrument, I intend to smash the thing until there is nothing left of it, but instead, I end up staring at the keys for an hour. Asya loves this piano. The hammer falls from my hand, hitting the polished floor with a loud thud. I can’t make myself destroy something that brought her joy.

My phone rings. I grab it and throw the fucking thing across the room.

It’s better like this for her. She won’t feel obliged to call me out of some misplaced sense of gratitude or whatever. It might be hard for her to adjust for the first few days at home, but she has her family now. Friends, too. Soon enough, she’ll forget all about me and continue with her life. Maybe I’ll do the same.

The phone rings again. It rings two more times that night.

It keeps ringing at least ten times every day for the following five days.

On the sixth day, it rings only once, and then the calls stop.

Chapter 20

Three weeks later