Almost

The mountains were dark.

Rex drove. I sat in the passenger seat. My mother sat in the back. The road twisted up the side of the mountain. Trees on both sides. Dark. Dense. The headlights cut through the fog.

"How much further?" I asked.

My mother leaned forward. Looked at the road.

"Maybe an hour. The cabin is at the top. Near the lake."

"Did Victor go there often?"

"Once a year. Every winter. He said it was the only place he could think clearly."

"What did he think about?"

My mother was quiet for a moment.

"About you. About me. About all the things he did wrong."

"Did he regret them?"

"I do not know. He never said."

Rex glanced at me. His eyes were tired.

"We should stop for the night. It is late. The roads are dangerous."

"No. We keep going."

"Mira..."

"Victor has been playing games for ten years. I am done playing. We find him tonight. We end this tonight."

Rex nodded. Kept driving.

The cabin appeared out of the fog.

Small. Wooden. A porch. A chimney. Smoke rising. Someone was inside.

Rex parked the car behind a line of trees. Cut the engine.

"We go in together," he said.

"No. I go alone."

"Mira, we talked about this."

"And I decided. I go alone. He wants me. Not you. Not my mother. Me."

"If something happens..."

"Then you come in. But not before."

Rex looked at me. His jaw was tight.

"One hour. If you are not out in one hour, I am coming in."

"Deal."

I got out of the car.

The air was cold. Thin. The fog pressed against my skin. I walked to the cabin. The porch creaked under my feet. The door was unlocked.

I pushed it open.

Victor was sitting in a chair by the fire.

His back was to me. His hair was silver. His shoulders were broad. He did not turn around.

"Mira," he said. "I was wondering when you would come."

"You knew I would."

"I knew someone would. I was hoping it would be you."

"Were you?"

He turned. His face was older than I remembered. More lines. More gray. But his eyes were the same. Cold. Calculating.

"Sit down," he said.

"I would rather stand."

"Suit yourself."

He gestured to the fire. The flames danced. The wood crackled.

"I used to come here with your mother," he said. "Before you were born. Before everything fell apart."

"She told me."

"Did she tell you about the lake? About the stars? About the night I asked her to marry me?"

"No."

Victor smiled. It was a sad smile.

"It was snowing. The lake was frozen. I got down on one knee. She said yes. She was crying. I was crying. We were so young. So stupid."

"What happened?"

"Life happened. Power happened. Betrayal happened."

"You happened."

Victor looked at me. "Yes. You happened. And you were the best thing that ever happened to me."

"You have a strange way of showing it."

"I know."

I walked to the window. Looked out at the fog.

"Victor is dead," I said. "The man in the hospital. The man we buried. He was not you."

"No. He was a body double. Like Marco. Like the others."

"How many have there been?"

"Enough."

"Why do you do it? Why do you keep faking your death?"

Victor stood up. Walked to the fire.

"Because I am afraid, Mira. I have been afraid my whole life. Afraid of losing power. Afraid of losing control. Afraid of losing you."

"So you run. You hide. You let other people die in your place."

"Yes."

"That is cowardice."

Victor turned. His eyes were hard.

"That is survival."

"There is a difference."

"Not in our world."

I walked to him. Stopped inches from his face.

"You tried to kill my mother."

"Yes."

"You tried to kill Rex."

"Yes."

"You tried to kill me."

Victor was quiet.

"Did you?" I asked. "Try to kill me?"

"No."

"But you were going to. Eventually."

Victor looked at the floor.

"I do not know. I like to think I would not have. But I do not know."

"That is not an answer."

"It is the only one I have."

I pulled out my gun. Pressed it against his chest.

"Give me one reason not to pull the trigger."

Victor looked at me. His eyes were wet.

"Because I am your father."

"That is not enough."

"Because I love you."

"That is not enough either."

"Because if you kill me, you become me. You become the monster. The killer. The villain. And I do not want that for you."

I stared at him.

The gun was heavy in my hand.

"Please, Mira. Do not become me."

I lowered the gun.

Victor exhaled.

"Thank you."

"Do not thank me. I am not doing this for you. I am doing this for me."

"I know."

I walked to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. To my husband. To my mother. To my life."

"What about me?"

"You stay here. You hide. You run. You do whatever you want. I do not care."

"Mira..."

I turned. Looked at him.

"If you ever come near me again, I will kill you. I will not hesitate. I will not feel guilty. I will just pull the trigger."

Victor nodded.

"I understand."

"I do not think you do. But you will."

I walked out the door.

Rex was waiting by the car.

His gun was in his hand. His face was tense.

"What happened?"

"I let him go."

"You let him go?"

"He is not worth it. He is a broken man. A scared man. A man who has been running his whole life."

"He is also a murderer."

"So am I. So are you. So is my mother. We are all murderers, Rex. The only difference is why."

"And why did you let him go?"

"Because I am tired of killing. I am tired of revenge. I am tired of being angry."

"What are you tired of?"

"Being alone."

Rex walked to me. Took my face in his hands.

"You are not alone."

"I know."

"I am here."

"I know."

"I am not going anywhere."

"I know."

He kissed me. Soft. Gentle. Not hungry. Not desperate. Just real.

We drove back to the house in silence.

My mother slept in the back seat. Rex drove. I watched the trees pass by the window.

The sun was rising. Pink and gold.

We arrived at the house an hour later. The gates opened. The guards nodded.

Rex parked the car. Cut the engine.

"Go to bed," he said. "You need to sleep."

"So do you."

"I will. Later."

"Mira..."

I turned. Looked at him.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I know."

"Do you love me?"

I did not answer.

Because I was still not sure.

The bedroom was dark.

I lay on the bed. The sheets were cold. Rex was in the shower. I could hear the water running. The sound of it hitting the tile.

He came out ten minutes later. A towel around his waist. His hair was wet. His chest was bare.

"You are still awake," he said.

"I cannot sleep."

"Neither can I."

He walked to the bed. Sat down beside me.

"What are we doing, Mira?"

"Living. Surviving. Trying to figure it out."

"And after? When the fighting is over? When the dust settles? What then?"

"I do not know."

He reached out. Touched my face.

"I want a life with you. A real life. Not just revenge. Not just survival."

"What kind of life?"

"One where we wake up next to each other. One where we argue about stupid things. One where we grow old together."

"That is a lot to ask."

"I have a lot to give."

He leaned in. Kissed me.

I kissed him back.

His hands were in my hair. My hands were on his chest. The towel fell away.

He laid me down on the bed. His body covered mine.

"I want you," he said.

"I know."

"Do you want me?"

"Yes."

He kissed my neck. My collarbone. The space between my breasts.

I closed my eyes. Let myself feel.

His hand slid under my shirt. His fingers traced my stomach.

"We should not," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because we have been fighting. Because we have been lying. Because we have been keeping secrets."

"We are not fighting now. We are not lying now. We are not keeping secrets now."

"That does not erase the past."

"No. But it can shape the future."

He kissed me again. Deeper this time.

I pulled him closer.

His hand moved lower. Between my legs.

I gasped.

"Tell me to stop," he said.

"Do not stop."

"I am not going to hurt you."

"I know."

"I am going to make you feel things you have never felt before."

"Then do it."

He pushed inside me. Slow. Deep.

I moaned.

He groaned.

The door opened.

My mother stood in the doorway. Her face was pale.

"There is someone here," she said. "At the gate. They are asking for you."

Rex pulled away. Reached for his towel.

"Who is it?"

"I do not know. They would not give a name."

I sat up. Pulled my shirt down.

"Show me."

We walked to the front door.

The sun was up. The guards were at the gate. A car was parked outside. Black. Tinted windows.

The door opened.

A woman stepped out.

Dark hair. Green eyes. A face that looked like my reflection.

My mother.

Not the woman standing beside me. Another woman. Younger. Thinner. Harder.

"Hello, Mira," she said. "I am your real mother."

My blood went cold.

The woman beside me grabbed my arm.

"No," she said. "I am your real mother. She is lying."

"You are both lying," I said.

"No," the woman at the gate said. "I am telling the truth. And I can prove it."

She reached into her coat. Pulled out a photograph.

A baby. In a hospital. A woman holding her.

The woman had green eyes.

The same green eyes as me.

The same green eyes as the woman standing beside me.

I looked at both of them.

"I do not know who to believe," I said.

"Then let us help you," the woman at the gate said. "Let us tell you the truth."

"Both of you?"

"Both of us."

I looked at Rex.

He nodded.

"Let them in."