I pull out an apple from the basket, pausing before I start to peel it for him. This is the hard part. Lying to him.
"They need me to attend an event," I say, keeping my tone casual, focusing intently on the knife.
Leif snorts. "An event. After trashing my gym? Maybe we should move."
I glance at my father. He's joking, but there's an underlying thread of seriousness.
What am I supposed to say? That I know he couldn't repay the loan? That I know the bank might repossess the gym? That I just married a stranger to fix his life? The knife pauses in my hand. The truth is a bomb I can't drop right now.
"There is no need for that," I say firmly, slicing the apple. "I can handle them."
Leif doesn't just stare at me he holds my gaze, his eyes wise, tired, and full of unspoken understanding saying everything I'm trying to avoid. He knows there's more to it than just an "event."
I cut the apple into small, bite-sized pieces and hand the plate over to him. "You are always too good to me," Leif says, taking a piece.
My cellphone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, managing a chuckle. "You better remember that."
I glance at the screen, and my fingers freeze. The notification is from my bank app. The new current balance is exactly 4.5 million, the exact debt Vega quoted. The money has already moved. I am really married to that asshole.
This debt was almost entirely caused by the Alaister family. They had sabotaged my father's business for years, destroyed his properties several times, and hired people to slander him and leave negative reviews. This was the price Leif paid for being a victim of their petty, lifelong vendetta.
I stare at those zeros for a long time, the reality settling like a cold stone in my brain. I am really going to marry this asshole. I let out a sharp, frustrated tsk.
Leif leans in slightly to see my phone. "What are you looking at?"
I quickly put my phone away. "It's nothing," I lie, the word tasting like ash.
"The way you were looking at your phone just now," Leif says, a playful glint in his eye, "it didn't seem like nothing. Is it a boyfriend?"
I am speechless. A boyfriend. If only he knew.
"Mr. Evensen, you are too nosy," I retort, shoving a piece of apple into his mouth. He tries to say something, but it's muffled by the fruit.
"Finish eating first, old man," I say, a genuine smile finally breaking through the tension.
***
Two days later...
I stand at the front door, the heavy duffle bag slung over my shoulder, and hold the door open for my dad. He's only been in the hospital for two days, but I feel like he hasn't been here in weeks.
The relief of getting him back home is immense. The gym is eerily quiet. It's closed due to the damage caused by that family, and the only signs of life are the sounds of the cleaning and repair crew I hired working in the main gym area.
"Sit down," I instruct him, guiding him to the small dining table.
I head straight to the tiny kitchen and pull the spiced lentil and carrot soup out of the fridge. I light the burner and start to reheat the soup I bought this morning. I pour the steaming liquid into two porcelain bowls and bring them over on a tray.
"You should eat first," I tell him, setting the tray down gently. "Then take your medications."
But my father doesn't respond. He's just sitting there, staring at his phone, his posture rigid.
I sit down, pick up my bowl, and blow on the steaming soup. Just as I lift a spoonful to my lips, Leif speaks. "What's this?"
I freeze, the spoon hovering inches from my mouth. I'm almost terrified to look.
I slowly raise my head. He's looking at his phone, but I already know what he's seeing. The money I transferred from the payment I received, the money to cover his business loan has cleared.
I knew this day would come, but I thought it would take at least three more days for the transaction to finalize. It seems the bank was eager to get their millions back.
With a bang, Leif strikes the table with the flat of his hand, making the bowls shake violently.
"Tyr, what is this?" he demands.
"Maybe it's your fairy godmother finally giving you reprieve," I say, forcing a light tone, hoping to deflect.
"Tyr!" Leif says, his voice tight, spoken through gritted teeth. He doesn't believe me for a second.
"Don't be angry," I concede, knowing the game is up.
Leif doesn't move towards me, but he spots the broom leaning by the wall. He grabs it and gets up at lightning speed, his movement betraying no sign of a recent cardiac incident.
I am just as fast. I scramble up and run backwards. "Dad, calm down!"
He shakes the broom energetically, wielding it like a weapon of mass discipline. "Which one did you borrow money from? Is it that witch or her dumb ass of a husband?" he yells, already rushing around the table.
I dart behind the heavy fighting cage, the steel mesh offering temporary shelter. "Neither!"
"So who, huh?" he shouts, rushing over.
I swear, shit, under my breath. I run fast and duck behind the solid wooden counter. "I'll tell you! Just put the broom away!"
"Oh, not until I get a few hits in and smack some sense into you!" he bellows. "Who did you sell yourself to?"
Leif swings that broom with terrifying accuracy, hitting the counter right where my head was seconds ago. He's truly furious. I know I can't talk sense into him right now. My best bet is to run out and come back when he's cooled down.
I sprint toward the front door and push it open, the broom nearly missing my back as I duck out.
I rush outside, only to instantly bump into a sturdy chest. The impact sends me sprawling, and I fall hard onto the already damaged pavement.