They didn’t.
He never came.
Every time I think of him, something bitter twists in my heart. I lived through the hurt. For months I was numb. Emotionless. Broken. I cried, I stopped eating, I suffered, and it took a long while to pick myself up. Even now, there’s an emptiness about me. Like I’m not there. I wonder if I’ll ever come back.
Penny appears in the doorway, smiling at me.
“Hi baby,” I croon.
She pulls herself up on the side of my bed. She’s not quite walking, but she’s getting around well. I lean down and kiss her head. Things have been so hard for us, but she’s a truly happy baby. There’s nothing about her that’s not bright and beautiful. If it weren’t for her, I’m not sure how I would have coped.
“Katia?” my mom calls.
“Yeah?”
“Ah, honey, you have a visitor.”
A visitor? Who would be visiting me? I have no friends. I lift Penny into my arms and walk down the hall. When I step into the living area, I gasp. Pain stabs through my heart as I take in my best friend. Dusty stands beside Mom, his face twisted in an emotion I really can’t read. Tears spill over and I rasp, “Dusty.”
“Jesus, Katia.”
I place Penny down and rush towards him. I throw my arms around his body. He holds me tightly, squeezing until it hurts but I don’t care. God, I’ve missed him. So much.
“What’s . . . what is this?”
I pull back, swiping my tears. Dusty hasn’t changed, not a bit. He looks just as gorgeous as he did the day I left. He’s wearing a grey sweater and a pair of black jeans. His hair is messy on his head. He runs a fingertip down my cheek and I struggle to fight back the breakdown threatening to erupt.
“This is where I live.”
He shakes his head. “No. You . . . no . . .”
Dusty knew where I was, but he had no idea of my living conditions. No one did. I don’t need pity. People have it so much worse. Some don’t even have a home. I can hardly complain; I have a roof over my head. I had enough savings to get us through for a while, but after Penny things got harder. I’m making it work, just barely, but I am.
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
His eyes flick to Penny. “Oh God . . . she’s . . .”
Dusty knows about Penny, but because of his job, he’s not yet had the chance to meet her. He doesn’t get a lot of time off, so it surprises me he’s here now. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve needed him so desperately.
“Just like him,” I finish.
He nods, turning back to me. His eyes scan over my Mom, and then he says, “Can I have a word with Katia?”
“Of course,” Mom says, wheeling towards Penny.
I step outside the apartment and turn to Dusty. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“You lied to me, Katia.”
“I didn’t lie, Dusty. I just didn’t tell you about it.”
“You said you were okay,” he cries.
“I am,” I whisper, reaching out and taking his hand.
His sad expression causes my heart to twist. This is exactly why I didn’t tell him. “How bad is it?” he asks.
“It’s fine.”
“God damn it, I’m your best friend, now tell me how fucking bad it is.”
I flinch.
He reaches out, stroking a finger down my cheek. “Please, honey.”
“It’s bad,” I whisper, lowering my eyes to the ground. “We have no money . . . I can barely afford to feed us.”
“Jesus,” he mutters.
“I have no other choice.”
“Yes, you do. You don’t have to do this.”
I jerk my head up and glare at him. “What do you think I can do?”
“You have us; you have your dad . . .”
My heart aches, an unfamiliar sensation travelling through my body. My father. A man I abandoned without getting to know. I have no choice. I know this.
“I can’t go back there. You know I can’t,” I say, my voice trembling.
“You can.”
“No, if I go back, I have to face . . .”
“Marcus?”
I flinch.
“Jesus, Katia, you can’t hide forever. It’s been long enough. Go home, divorce him, move on with your life.”
Divorce.
Something that still hasn’t been done.
“I don’t know if I can face him,” I stammer. “I don’t want him to know about Penny and—”
“He doesn’t need to know unless you want him to. You divorce him, you leave. Your father will protect you.”
“He’ll find out about her. If I go back . . .”
“And you don’t think that he has the right to know?” he says, gently.
My heart twists. “No. He deserves nothing.”
“Katia . . .”
“We’re fine here, Dusty.”
“No you’re not,” he yells. “Fuck me, you’re living in a shitty apartment, struggling to survive. Your clothes have fucking patches on them. Your mother looks starving. What the fuck are you doing? You don’t have to live like this!”
“I don’t have a choice!” I scream.
“You have a father willing to help, friends . . .”
“I can’t . . .”
He shakes his head, sadly. “If it was just about you, I wouldn’t push, but it’s not just about you, Katia. It’s about your mom and your daughter. They’re suffering because your pride won’t let you help them. Think about that.”
“How dare you?” I whisper, my voice a deadly hiss.
“Katia,” he says, carefully. “I’m not trying to be an asshole . . . but you don’t have to live like this.”
I close my eyes, fighting against the burn starting in my nose and working its way up until tears spill over my eyelids.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers. “Come back, sort it out, make a life for you and your daughter.”
“Dusty, please.”
He pulls me into his arms. “Just think about it. We can help you. If I had known it was like this, that you were lying to me . . . I would have come sooner.”
I nod, even though there’s no way I’ll go back there. No way.
“Why are you here?” I ask, pulling back.
“Surprise visit,” he mutters, then throws his hands up. “Surprise.”
I laugh softly.
“Well,” I say, stepping closer and wrapping my arms around him. “I’m glad you’re here.”
CHAPTER TWO
KATIA
Dusty stays for three days before I know it gets too much for him. He doesn’t say it, but I felt his tension. He made me promise to keep calling, and begged me to think about coming home. I said I would, knowing full well that it wasn’t going to happen. I know he means well, but he’ll never understand the emptiness in my heart.
I spend the rest of the week working. My shifts are longer, morning until night, and by the time I get home and play with Penny for a few hours, I’m exhausted. I pass out, only to have to get up and do it again. It’s repetitive, my boss is an asshole and I make minimum wage. I think a lot about my father, wondering if he’s thinking about me.
Has he searched for us?
When the weekend rolls around, I take Mom and Penny to the diner for lunch. We don’t do it often, and it’s wonderful to occasionally do something nice. I can’t really afford it, but my tips were good on Friday night, so I spared a tiny amount for us to enjoy a burger. Mom barely touches hers, and I watch as she pokes around, shoving the food across her plate.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
She looks up at me, and her eyes are quite red. “Have you been sleeping, Mom?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’ve just got a headache. I think I need to go home and rest.”
I narrow my eyes. “Have you had this headache often?”
Her eyes dart away and my heart plummets. She’s been keeping it from me. Oh God, she’s been suffering, and I didn’t even know.
 
; “Mom?” I whisper.
“I’m fine, Katia. I’m just tired.”
“Something is wrong. You’re having trouble again, aren’t you?”
“It’s nothing.”
I close my eyes, fighting back my tears. The waitress comes over and I pay her before standing and helping Mom back to the apartment. It’s not a long walk, but by the time we’re back she’s panting and clutching her head.
“You need a doctor,” I say frantically, sitting her on the couch.
“No, I just need to lie down.”
“Mom,” I yell. “You need a doctor!”
“We can’t afford one,” she whispers. “Katia, I’m fine.”
It’s like a punch to the stomach. Fire scorches my heart, until I feel nothing but a burning pain radiating through my body. She didn’t tell me because she knows we can’t afford treatment.
“How long has this been going on?”
She stares at me, her eyes empty.
“Mom,” I prompt. “Please?”
“On and off for a few weeks.”
My chest feels as if it’s going to explode. She’s been in agony, probably something severe, maybe another tumor, and she’s kept it to herself because she knows there’s no way under the sun we can afford help. Tears trickle down my cheeks and I kneel in front of her. “I’ll get some help, I swear.”
“Katia, you can barely afford to feed Penny. We don’t have the money.”
Another slam to my chest. “I’ll find a way. I’ll work longer, I’ll—”
“Katia . . .”
Tears pour harder now, until I can’t see through them. “Mom,” I croak. “I’m going to fix this.”
She strokes my cheek. “Penny is everything right now, sweetheart. She needs you to take care of her.”
“I dragged you out here.” I hiccup. “This is my fault.”
“You didn’t drag me anywhere. I needed a fresh start, too . . .”
“But you didn’t need hell,” I cry.
She came with me, purely because she knew she couldn’t survive on her own. She’s always been optimistic, but I know what moving out here has done to her. I’m selfish. I should never have taken her away.
“It wouldn’t have mattered if we were there, or here. The situation is the same. You were pregnant, without a job. We would have struggled more there, with the price of rent and . . .”
“Mom,” I whisper.
“Katia, it’s fine. You did the very best you could. I can hardly complain, I’m your burden, and—”
“God, Mom, stop.”
“Katia,” she cuts me off. “We couldn’t have survived; you know it. I chose to come with you. I made the choice.”
“Mom.”
“I’m going to lie down. Please, don’t worry yourself. I’ll be all right in the morning.”
She disappears down the hall and Dusty’s words come back to me. I’m hiding out here for me; I’m not thinking of her or Penny. I’m thinking of myself.
I need to go back, I need to face and divorce Marcus so I can finally move on. Then I need to see if there’s a way my father can at least help my mom get the help she needs. He will help her; I just know he will.
I know what I have to do.
I walk into the kitchen, digging through my purse until I find my phone. I pull out a phonebook and find Penner Holdings, then I dial the number, trembling as it rings.
“Penner Holdings, Jane speaking.”
“Hi Jane,” I whisper. “I was wondering if Pierre still worked there?”
“No, he doesn’t. But I have his contact number.”
“Please.”
She gives it to me and I thank her, hanging up. I stare down at the number for a long time, debating if I have the guts to do this. Then I hear the sound of my mother throwing up, and I know I have no choice. I have to fix this. I dial the number, pressing the phone to my ear.
“Pierre speaking.”
I open my mouth but nothing comes out. God.
“Hello?”
“Dad?” I croak, not even grasping how easily that word slipped from my lips.
“Katia?” he whispers.
“It’s me.”
“Christ. Where are you? Where have you been?”
“It doesn’t matter right now. I need your help.”
“What’s going on?” His voice is low, concerned.
“It’s Mom. She’s sick. I can’t afford to . . .”
“Where are you?” he demands, not even letting me finish.
I rattle off our location, our situation and what I need to do.
“Katia,” he murmurs, low. “Honey, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I needed to get out of there. I had no choice.”
He sighs. “He’s been looking for you, you know?”
My skin prickles at the mention of him. “Please, don’t. I just need to end this with him, and figure out a way to sort my life out with Mom.”
“If she’s unwell, you can’t pack her up and move her now. She needs immediate treatment; going on a plane, or for a long car ride isn’t safe. I’m going to come out there, stay with her while you come back and sort out your issues with Marcus. I’ll pay for some help; get her fixed up. Then when you’re done, we can figure out what to do from there.”
“Really?” I whisper.
“Things are good for me now. I’m out of all the illegal business and I’m running my own company. I can afford to help her. Katia, I would have helped you, too.”
“You understand that at the time, I wasn’t thinking like that. I needed to be away, far, far away. I just wanted to start again . . .”
“I understand. I’m going to look into flights. I’ll text you with my arrival.”
“Thank you. I mean that.”
“You can stay at my house while I’m gone. You’ll be sharing with Ford, but he’ll stay out of your way.”
Ford. My brother.
“Okay.”
“I’ll be in touch. Hang in there, Katia.”
CHAPTER THREE
MARCUS
THEN
My dead eyes stare at the man hanging from the wall, my hands tight around his throat. He’s dangling there like a pathetic rag doll. His blue eyes are bulging and his mouth is opening and closing on continual gasps. He’s got his fingernails tearing into the flesh on my wrists as he tries to pry himself free, but nothing will help him now.
“There has to be something,” I growl, lifting him off the wall and slamming him back again.
“I looked,” he gasps. “There’s nothing.”
“There’s always something,” I bark. “I paid you good money to find her.”
“And I’ve tried. She’s not in the state anymore . . . if you want me to look farther, you’ll have to pay me more.”
“For what? You’re pathetic. Waste of money. Give it back.”
He eyes bug and he gasps. “No.”
“Give. It. Back.”
“I heard you were a ruthless bastard but this is low, even for you,” he wheezes.
I stare up at the sky, take a breath, and then lower my hardened eyes back to his. “Give. Me. The. Mother. Fuckin’. Money.”
“I don’t have it. It’s gone. You’ve paid me. I’ve done the job. I never promised to get answers.”
“For the money I fuckin’ paid, you should have. Now, give me the fuckin’ cash or I’ll end you.”
His eyes bug. “You’re seriously fucked up.”
I pull out my gun, pressing it to his forehead. “You have no fuckin’ idea.”
~*~*~*~
KATIA
NOW
My father arrives the next afternoon. By then, Mom isn’t really picking up. He hires a car and when he pulls up at our apartment and gets out, I see his expression drop. He hasn’t changed a bit; he’s still tall, dark and handsome. I step out the front door and his eyes soften when he sees me. But as usual, I see the pity in them.
“Katia . . .”
“Hi,” I whisper, walki
ng over.
He reaches out, stroking a thumb down my cheek. “I didn’t know.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Does she know I’m coming?”
I nod.
“Come in.”
I lead him inside and he halts suddenly. I know why. He’s laid his eyes on Penny, who is perched on the couch beside Mom. She’s holding onto Mom’s blanket, shoving the end into her mouth and drooling all over it.
“Holy shit,” he breathes.
“Dad,” I say, softly. “Meet Penny. My daughter.”
His eyes dart over her, then flick to me. “Katia . . .”
“Please, not now. Please?”
He nods and turns to my Mom. “Hi Sandra.”
“Hello Pierre.”
“How are you feeling?”
She shrugs, but I see it pains her. So does he. They share a look that lasts so long I feel as if I’m invading a personal moment between the two of them.
“I’ve already called the doctor in,” he finally says. “He’ll arrive in the next hour or so.”
Thank God.
He turns to me. “I’ve gotten you a plane ticket . . . I didn’t know about, ah, Penny. I’ll add her on. It leaves in three hours.”
“Thank you.”
He reaches out, stroking my cheek. “Dusty will be waiting at the airport for you. I told him you were coming.”
“And Ford?”
“He’s aware, he’ll be fine.”
I nod. “I should pack.”
I hurry down the hall, giving them time together. I know Mom is slightly uncomfortable with my father being here, but she also knows she doesn’t have a choice. I hate that I have to go, but it’s time I end this properly with Marcus. I don’t know why he hasn’t divorced me, but I can’t keep hanging on.
I need to let this bitterness go.
I need to move on.
I’m sure he’s suffered, too. After all, the moment I left he would have lost everything. I’m sure he wants to move on with his life as much as I want to move on with mine. He probably hates me for leaving as much as I hate him. I can’t be married to him for the rest of my life, I can’t hide from him for the rest of my life, the only way for me and my little family to be truly happy is to go back and face my demons, and end them.