"What do you remember?"

Peter thought for a few seconds. "Nothing... everything...." He opened his mouth and shivered as everything he'd said and seen rushed back to him. "I didn't do it. I didn't shoot my dad." Peter glanced over at Luka, who was smiling at him. "Vince shot him. He was the one with the gun. He dropped it in my lap, and I picked it up. I couldn't have shot him-my hands were over my ears because of the noise."

Peter turned to Franz, who nodded. Then Peter put his hands over his face and sobbed.

Chapter 8.

LUKA WAS WAS shocked, beyond shocked. In the back of his mind he'd thought there was something off about Peter's story, but he'd mostly tied that to the fact that Peter had been six years old and had blocked the worst of the incident from his mind. He sat for a few seconds, unable to move, and then stood, hurried to Peter, and wrapped him in his arms. He didn't know what to say, so he said all the things his mother had told him when he was a child. He crooned sweet Serbian nothings into Peter's ear, rocking him back and forth. This man had carried guilt and shame for years, all of it needless. That realization had to be enough to make anyone break down. shocked, beyond shocked. In the back of his mind he'd thought there was something off about Peter's story, but he'd mostly tied that to the fact that Peter had been six years old and had blocked the worst of the incident from his mind. He sat for a few seconds, unable to move, and then stood, hurried to Peter, and wrapped him in his arms. He didn't know what to say, so he said all the things his mother had told him when he was a child. He crooned sweet Serbian nothings into Peter's ear, rocking him back and forth. This man had carried guilt and shame for years, all of it needless. That realization had to be enough to make anyone break down.

"How could he do that?" Peter finally whispered.

No one answered. Dr. Middlebach handed Luka a tissue, and he pressed it into Peter's hand.

"It is okay," Luka said softly. "Answers come in time."

"Your friend is right," the doctor said softly. "Peter, I want you to look at me."

Luka took a single small step back and to the side.

"You honestly thought you'd shot your father, and we were able to unlock your memories. But I want to caution you that you need to think about what you wish to do with this information."

"Why?" Peter snapped. "My brother shot Dad. He knew it all these years and he let me take the fall. He let me think I'd done it and feel guilty for it for decades." Peter shook, and Luka stepped closer, taking his hand.

"You were both children, six and eight years old," Franz said. "Your recovered memory doesn't change the end result. It only shifts the guilt." Franz stood up.

Luka moved and sat back down. He watched as Franz knelt near Peter.

"You need to decide what you want to do with this information."

Peter lifted his gaze, and slowly the doctor returned to his chair.

"I don't understand," Peter said. "Why would I tell my family? They...." Peter paused and nodded slowly. "They wouldn't believe me."

"What I'm saying is that you just found out something life-changing. But the most important person whose life it will change is yours. For years you've carried this guilt, something you now know you don't need to do. It will change who you are. The residual guilt will dissipate, and you'll be free of it."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" Peter asked.

"Yes. It is good. But that guilt was also responsible for some of the wonderful things in your life. I know it sounds strange, but that guilt pushed you to help people and to become the person you are. Without it, you will change. Your personality will shift, maybe slightly, maybe a whole lot. That depends on you." The doctor leaned forward in his chair. "Like I said, what you do with this information is up to you. But I suggest you think about it and give yourself a chance to adjust."

Peter looked shocked. Luka wanted to go to him, but thought it best to sit back and let the doctor talk with Peter, especially as he explained potential changes. Luka knew people changed and grew, but the thought of Peter becoming anyone other than the incredible man he'd come to love shook him to the core.

"So I should do nothing?" Peter asked, pulling Luka out of his thoughts.

"For now. The most important thing is that you know the truth about what happened. Give yourself a chance to digest it and decide what is best for you." Franz looked at Luka as well. "Then you can decide with the important people in your life what you want to do. Things like this can cause a great deal of trauma for both the person affected and the people around them. We've discovered the truth together, now let's determine the best way forward together."

Peter took a deep breath and sighed. "Okay. I think I can do that. But should I not tell anyone?"

"My suggestion would be to pick a few close friends and tell them the whole story. That way you will have a support group of understanding people. Don't tell your family, and definitely not your brother, until you're absolutely ready. The truth has been hidden for a very long time. But you're in control of it now, so give yourself the chance to heal and to be strong before you entrust that truth to others."

Peter sighed again and nodded.

"People not always believe the truth," Luka said.

Peter turned toward him. "Do you believe me?"

Luka smiled and walked over to Peter, took his hand, and placed it on his chest. "With whole heart."

"I believe that Luka believed there was more to the story before either of us did," Franz said, and Luka nodded.

"I know you could not hurt anyone," Luka said.

Peter stood up, still holding Luka's hand.

"I'd like to schedule an appointment on Monday," Franz said. "That will give you some time to think, and we can then talk over what you'd like to do." He paused. "I want to caution you that you're likely to feel a number of strong emotions over the next few days. Please do not act on them. They're normal, but acting on them will most likely lead you to consequences you don't mean or intend. Okay?"

Peter nodded.

Franz stood up as well. "Feel free to call if you need to talk. I'll be here to listen."

Peter thanked him, and Luka did as well. Peter seemed tentative as he walked toward the door, so Luka stayed close to him. Once they were out of the building and into the fresh air, Peter seemed to steady. He led them to a shady spot under a tree and stood in the shade, taking deep, long breaths. Luka waited patiently while Peter looked up at the leaves and clear sky overhead.

"I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I can't tell anyone."

Luka remained quiet.

"All these years I thought I was the one who had killed my father, and Vince let me think it." Peter lowered his gaze. "Do you think he knew all this time?"

Luka shrugged.

"How could he do that?" Peter asked, clenching his fists. "I want to hit him." He then laughed nervously. "I suppose that's why Franz asked me to think about things." He ran his hands through his hair. "What am I going to do?"

"I do not know. What you want to do?" Luka asked. He tried to figure out how he'd feel if he were in Peter's place and came up blank.

"I've been living a lie since I was six years old," Peter said. "For twenty-five years, I've thought I killed my father and I didn't. I lived with that guilt and shame all that time, needlessly. What happened was not my fault, and yet I paid for it." He began pacing in the shade.

"I think we go home," Luka said. "You need to think."

Peter stopped and nodded. Then he strode down the sidewalk, and Luka struggled to keep up. "Peter," Luka said, and Peter slowed down to allow Luka to catch up. Luka could feel the energy rolling off Peter in waves. They walked to Peter's car, and Peter drove them to his apartment. Milton greeted them at the door. The cat took one look at Peter, growled, and hurried away.

"Coward," Peter cried after the cat as he shut the door.

"You need to... relax," Luka said. "You cannot change anything right now."

"But everything is different," Peter said.

"No. Everything the same. Only difference is you know the truth now," Luka said. "You no longer have guilty feelings, but you are still finding your way." Luka walked into the kitchen and found Milton's food. He put some in the bowl, and the cat approached, walking near the wall, slinking around Peter before attacking his dish. "He know something wrong."

Peter didn't say anything. He walked over to the sofa and flopped down. "I can't believe I didn't remember that I didn't do it. I didn't kill my dad." Peter smiled and then began to shake. "How could I not remember that all these years?"

"It was scary and...." Luka groaned and switched to Serbian. "You were young and your father had just been shot with the gun you and your brother had found. Your mind couldn't process everything, so it blocked things out. The last thing you remembered was holding the gun. Everyone else saw you with the gun, so they concluded you had accidentally shot your dad, and since you couldn't remember, you didn't deny it." Luka sat next to Peter. "I'm sorry you went through all that, but if you hadn't, I wouldn't have met you and you wouldn't be the man you are today."

"How can you say that?" Peter asked.

It would be easier to continue in Serbian, but Luka switched to English and hoped he could say what he wanted without tripping over his words. "You are the man I love... the person you are... because you think you killed your dad. You help people. If that not happen, you might be lawyer or guy who wires houses, not social worker or person who teach me English."

Peter seemed to settle down a little. "I know. But I've felt so bad for so long."

"Yes. But that be over if you let it be over," Luka said, hoping he was explaining himself well. "You need... forgive, just like you wanted family to forgive."

Peter sighed. "I know you're right, but that's much easier said than done." Milton wandered over and jumped on the sofa. Peter must not have been scary to him now because he immediately rubbed all over both of them. "I know Franz is right, but I'm going to go crazy unless I can talk about it."

Luka lifted his hands away from Milton and crossed his arms over his chest. "Then talk if you want. I listen."

Peter ran his hands through his hair. "I didn't mean to make you mad. Everything seems all messed up. The things I thought I knew aren't what I thought they were."

Luka remained quiet and let Peter talk.

"Maybe I'm making too much of this whole thing. Yes, I didn't shoot my dad, but I was still there, and...."

"You think too much," Luka said with a smile. "Just be happy. You no can bring back father, but you know you not kill him. That good news. So be happy. Forgive and go on with life." Luka smiled. "It like you said." Luka waved his hands over his head. "Universe in balance." Luka smiled. "Is that right?"

"Yes," Peter said with a smile. "That's right." He reached over and pulled Luka to him. "I'll do what Franz suggested and think about it for a while."

"Good." Luka shifted closer. Milton mrowed and jumped to the floor as Luka angled closer for a kiss. "I no want you to change," Luka whispered, giving voice to what Franz had said earlier.

"I don't plan on it," Peter said.

"Good. I like you like this," Luka said, and then he cut off further conversation for a while. They rolled together on the couch. In Luka's mind, what was important was being close to each other, not s.e.x. Neither of them pressed for it, and that was fine. Being there for each other was more important.

"Can I ask something?" Peter said, his lips swollen and red from their kissing. Luka nodded. "Do you still miss Misha?"

Luka nodded again. "I will always miss him. I still love him. Just like I would still love and miss you if something happened." The thought made Luka shiver. He did not want to go through that kind of pain again, ever. "He's a part of me, just like you are." Luka smiled. "You... I no know the word. But you have green eyes," Luka said.

"I do not," Peter said. "And the word is jealous, which I'm not, thank you very much." Peter ran his fingers over Luka's ribs. He laughed and squirmed before diving in to tickle Peter back. They wriggled and laughed until they ended up on the floor with Luka on top of Peter, both of them laughing like idiots. It was so good to hear Peter laugh a genuine, carefree laugh.

"If you not jealous, then why ask about Misha?" Luka asked, shifting to get back on his feet.

Peter wrapped his arms around his waist and held him still. "I was curious. It must be hard to lose someone like that."

"Everyone loses someone," Luka said. "You lost your dad, and Bella lost Josif. It what happens. I love Misha and I miss him, like I miss Josif. But you no stop living. Misha would be mad at me if I did that."

"Is that what kept you going?"

"Yes. Misha was... fun, lively. He always moving. So that how I know he is angry if I sit and do nothing. And I no want Misha to be mad. He say he come back and make me pay if I not remember him right."

"He said he'd haunt you? Like a ghost?" Peter asked.

Luka nodded. "He want me to be happy. Like I want you to be happy. Anger, jealous, hate-all make you unhappy. They not healthy. Need to let them go to be happy." Luka stroked Peter's cheek. "You need to let go to be happy."

Peter hummed softly. "You make me happy."

Luka smiled. "Yes. But you need to make you happy too."

"Is this your way of telling me to let go of what Vince did?" Peter asked. Luka sat on the floor and shook his head. "Then what are you telling me?"

"To be happy. I no understand what that is, but you have to do that. Yell at him if want, punch in nose, scream if that make you feel better. But you need to decide what that is. Do it once, and then walk away. He still brother and only one you have."

"So you're telling me not to burn my bridges," Peter said.

Luka nodded. He thought he understood what Peter was saying. That expression was new, but the image worked for him. "You know truth and that enough for now. Rest will come later."

"You sound like Franz," Peter observed.

"Franz is right," Luka said. "What you think happen if you tell Mama what you remember? She open arms and hug you?" Luka shook his head. "She say you liar and get angry with you. That what happen with long lie. It become truth. You must think for long time before telling anybody. I know you want to tell Mama, but that not help."

"I know," Peter agreed. "After the shooting, my mother was different. I have memories of her reading to me at bedtime and kissing me when I got hurt. After Dad died, that all stopped. She spent extra time with Vince and Julie, but not me. I wanted her to. I was a little kid and I wanted my mother to tell me everything would be okay. I know she blamed me for what happened, but I was a little kid who needed his mother. I didn't get it, so I hoped if I was good, she would love me again."

Luka nodded. "Maybe your mother feel guilty. Maybe she want to forgive but don't know how."

"Maybe." Peter chuckled. "You met my mother. She knows what she knows, and it is very hard for her to change her mind." He sighed. "Okay. You made your point, whether you wanted to or not. I won't say anything to anyone until I figure out how I feel about all this."

"Good," Luka said. "I need to go home."

"You do?" Peter asked.

"I promised Bella I would have dinner with her. She need company, and I promise to eat with her." He smiled. "She asked you to come too if want."

"Are you sure?" Peter asked.

Luka nodded, rolling his eyes. No one got Bella to do something she didn't want to do.

"Did she really invite me?"

"Yes. She want people to talk to, and she just go back to work." Luka grinned. "She say she is ready to be out with people."

"If you're sure. I'd like to see Bella and have dinner. She was always a really good cook," Peter said, patting his stomach. They got off the floor, and Peter went to the bathroom. When he returned, he locked the apartment, and they left for Luka's.

The short drive to Luka's didn't take long. When Peter parked in his usual place, Bella came out of the main house and hurried over to them. "There was a man here looking for you," she said and handed Luka a card. Luka read it, his heart going cold. "US Citizenship and Immigration Service."

"What did they want?" Peter asked.

She shook her head. "He wouldn't say. Only that he wanted to speak with Luka and that it was important."