“Here you are,” Maria Olegovna Ivanova placed a plate with steaming risotto in front of Grigory on a table covered with a white beautiful tablecloth.

“Thank you,” the young man smiled.

Kirill Petrovich Ivanov smirked, “She cooks this meal the best. We call it her masterpiece.”

Grigory nodded his head as a sign of gratitude and looked at Kristina. Her eyes were shining with happiness because the evening went perfect so far.

When Kirill Petrovich met his daughter’s boyfriend for the first time tonight, he liked him. Grigory’s handshake was firm and confident. His black eyes had a straight look. While Maria Olegovna was preparing dinner, Kirill Petrovich, Kristina and Grigory sat in the cosy living room and talked. Ivanov was telling about his liberal views – resentment against monopolies, support for value of human rights, freedom of speech, and Grigory expressed his solidarity by enthusiastic nods. A sincere engagement into the conversation was conveyed via the young man’s forward-leaning posture and eyes fixed at Kirill Petrovich’s face.

Now, looking at Grigory, Ivanov felt a tickling of pain in his heart. He realized how many years have flown by. His daughter was an adult already and soon could get married and leave the family. He remembered one sunny day 15 years ago when he was playing with his little girl in a house yard. He was running away from her, and she was chasing after him, moving her tiny feet in a clumsy manner. Kirill Petrovich sighed with nostalgia and chewed the first spoon of creamy risotto.

“Tell us, what do you study? What do you want to do in the future? Kristi never tells us anything. She says she wants us to make our own judgement,” Maria Olegovna broke the silence, “I think she is just playing a role of an independent adult.”

“Mom!” Kristina exclaimed with displeasure in her voice, “Please, don’t bother Grisha with our family business.”  

“Don’t bother, don’t bother,” Mom teased her daughter, “Are you even going to invite us to your wedding?”

Kristina blushed, and Grigory spoke up. Kirill Petrovich knew that his daughter was angry at her Mom for being so fixed on the idea of marriage because she thought it was too early to speak of it. None of her close friends were married yet; they all were in the period of searching for the only one.

Kirill Petrovich was satisfied that the young man showed sensitivity to Kristi’s unspoken wishes and stopped the teasing that was annoying for her. When I was in love, I tried to guess every wish of hers, Ivanov thought, giving a glance back at his youth. He recalled how once he could not sleep for the whole night because Maria cancelled their date without any explanations. On the next day he went to see her, and they had a terrible fight. With her lips trembling and her brows looking red and puffy after long crying, she blamed him for loving another girl. For hours he dissuaded her, and eventually they got reconciled. He still remembered the feeling of happiness that spinned his head when he hugged and kissed her.

Where is this passion now? he wondered with another tickling of nostalgia. Over more than 20 years of their marriage, Kirill Petrovich had studied his wife in great depth. The adventurous spirit of exploration that inhabited Ivanov’s heart and made him nervous and stressed out at times when he could not guess Maria’s wishes, had deserted him…

“I’m studying on the Faculty of Physics and Mathematics,” Grigory was saying, “I have a part-time job as a street-sweeper. I have always been passionate about planes. I’d like to connect my future with aviation.”

“I am working as the Head of Flight Operations in Federal Air Transport Agency,” Kirill Petrovich said smiling.

“Wow! Kristina never told me that!” Grigory exclaimed. His spoon froze mid-way towards his mouth. Then amusement in his face got substituted by a tense expression of inner struggle. He frowned and lowered his eyes. It seemed that he was debating something in his mind. Eventually he chose to chew risotto and remain silent. However, the expression of disapproval did not leave his face. Kirill Petrovich noticed that his daughter looked uncomfortable – her eyes were rushing about, her cheeks turned crimson. He suggested that she did not tell Grisha about them, her parents, because she wanted to look as much independent as possible.

Suddenly Kristina started speaking in an a anxious voice, “Grisha wants to initiate a start-up. It’ll be a company that would help clients to choose the best private aviation training centers according to their needs.”

Kirill Petrovich thought: Am I so detached from my job in Kristi’s mind that she forgot that Grisha’s startup would be in direct competition with Federal Air Transport Agency? Moreover, tomorrow we’ll annul all pilot license granted by private centers.

“That’s brave. I encourage ambition!” Kirill Petrovich said despite of his thoughts because in his heart he supported the freedom of competition. He also remembered his youth when he dreamed of founding a huge successful company. It was something connected with optics. I wanted to sell the best glasses in the world, Kirill Petrovich thought with another tickling of nostalgia.

“Thank you, Kirill Petrovich…” Grigory made a pause. The doubts that visited him several seconds ago came back. Eventually, he gave way to the decision to speak out, “I understand that this startup might worsen the competition for Federal Air Transport Agency. The governmental aviation training centers are much more expensive than private ones. Frankly speaking, I can’t think of any pluses that they have.”

Kirill Petrovich felt respect to this young man for his courage. If Ivanov had not been the Head of Flight Operations in Federal Air Transport Agency, he would have shaken Grigory’s hand and agreed with him entirely. However, his post did not allow him to do so. Kirill Petrovich lighted a cigarette that he always did when he went against own views and leaned back in his chair. He hated his own well-moderated and calm voice when he repeated the official rhetorics of Federal Air Transport Agency, “Private centers use unrecognized training programs. They falsify the numbers of training flights that pilots had.”

Kirill Petrovich looked straight into Grisha’s widely opened eyes and despised himself. Have I selled myself entirely? Have I completely betrayed my liberal views? I am lying to this young man… His hand that was holding the cigarette trembled, and a pinch of ash has landed on his shirt.

“Okay, it’s enough talking about business!” Maria Olegovna broke the tense silence, “Kristi, help me to clean up and make tea.”

Kristina stood up, looking upset that her words caused an uncomfortable situation. Kirill Petrovich hurriedly changed the subject.

“Have you been abroad?” he asked Grigory who made a visible effort to conceal disappointment that his face was conveying.

***

On the next day, Kirill Petrovich woke up with a heavy feeling in his chest. He struggled to fall asleep during the night, and a slumber that descended on him closer to dawn did not bring refreshment. Ivanov sat up, looked at his wife who was still sleeping and sighed deeply. Wrinkles were covering his solemn face. There were bags under his eyes. He stood up, sensing pain in his back and knees, and slowly headed to the bathroom.

Today Kirill Petrovich had to become an executioner who would break lives of hundreds of people. Even the word ‘executioner’ is too mild for the duty that I’ll carry out today, the man thought while brushing his teeth and looking at his exhausted face reflected in the mirror, I will be a vile murderer who would betray own views and stab the knife into men’s backs.

After several minutes of emptiness in his mind, during which the hand performed routine movements with the toothbrush, Kirill Petrovich started shaving. He stared at his old face, at his hair with glitter of greyness, at his eyes that stopped shining and turned dim and dull. A miserable ‘liberal’, he told himself with a mocking smile and felt how the pain in his chest intensified. For the first time in 30 years he reconsidered cutting his neck with the razor that he held in his hand. It’s so simple, he thought with a wave of depressive indifference to life that he once experienced in his youth.

Back then, he realized that he could not fulfil his dream of founding the huge corporation that would ship glasses and lenses all over the world. It happened after his new evolving company went bankrupt because it was outcompeted by another company that had a more effective advertising campaign. Young Kirill despite of having liberal views damned competition, bought a bottle of vodka, got drank and lost consciousness for the first time in his life. The next morning he considered suicide but love to Maria stopped him.

Did I agree to discredit all private aviation centers by annulling license that they give because it’s a revenge for my crashed dream? Kirill Petrovich thought, while washing away the shaving gel.

When he entered the kitchen, he saw that Kristi had already served him breakfast and was getting ready to go to university.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said in a cracking voice. What would she think about me when she hears the news? How will Grisha treat her after that? She seems to love him so much. If he leaves her, it’ll break her heart, Kirill Petrovich thought, while eating the omelet that seemed bland to him, However, I can’t lose my job now. I need it until Kristi is entirely independent.

On the way to work Kirill Petrovich kept regretting that he became an instrument of the insensitive government that decided to break dreams of innocent people and eradicate the freedom of competition. At the same time, he tried to steal his heart for the important duty that awaited him. He was staring at his hands holding the wheel and it seemed to him that the official explanation of Federal Air Transport Agency was tattooed on his knuckles: Federal aviation centers guarantee safety, as opposed to private ones. With trembling fingers Ivanov hurriedly lighted up a cigarette and inhaled tobacco several times. During the hour-long drive to work the text got imprinted into Ivanov’s mind to the extent that the man started believing in it.

After the annulation decree was published, Kirill Petrovich sighed and felt a void inside himself. He leaned back in his chair, craving for a cigarette. He drummed the surface of his desk with his fingers and stood up. Ivanov intended to go to the smoking area when his office phone rang. He ducked his head, slouched his shoulders, and sat down.

“Yes?” he said. His exhausted empty eyes were wandering around his cabinet. They stopped at the prize “Russian of the year” received just several months ago, at the portrait of the president that was hanging on the wall, at a small statue of a plane that Kristina once gave him as a birthday present and that was placed on his desk.

Suddenly his eyes widened, and drops of sweat appeared on his forehead.

“How?” was the only question Kirill Petrovich could mutter.

Then he stood up and headed out of the office with his hands hanging powerlessly on his sides. Instead of a smoking area, Ivanov was going to the administration office to write a resignation letter.

Later, while driving home, he was so focused on his thoughts, that he nearly caused an accident – he noticed that the front car had stopped at the last moment. Midway Kirill Petrovich went to a liquor store and bought a bottle of vodka. At home, he started drinking it alone, and when Maria Olegovna returned from work, she was shocked. Ivanov never drank vodka alone in the middle of the week; they usually allowed themselves to relax every Friday with a bottle of wine.

“What happened?” she asked, bemused.

Kirill Petrovich raised his red tear-soaked eyes and murmured:

“I got what I deserved…”