I told Ian I needed a little time to myself. He was too busy with the remodeling job to ask where I was going; he just nodded and went back to looking at paint swatches. At least he was having fun.

I went down to the target range for a little weapons practice. I was only using a practice weapon, little more than a glorified Nerf gun, but before I knew it I had completely destroyed three targets, and the fourth was looking ragged around the edges.

"You always were hard on targets."

I whirled around. "Master?" I swear, the man moves like a cat - or a ghost. You don't know he's there until he wants you to know he's there.

"Want to talk about what's bothering you?"

"Nothing's bothering me!"

He looked at the line of destroyed targets, and then back at me.

I sighed. "Okay, it's . . . you've heard about me and Ian?"

He nodded. "He's knocking down the wall between your rooms right now."

"That's okay, isn't it? I told him to wait for me before he did anything, but I guess he wanted to get it done right away."

"He is impulsive. He's doing a good job, though. Something tells me . . . your walls won't come down so easily."

I knew what he was talking about. "I know you've always said that you can't help who you love, and it's never wrong as long as there's mutual respect, but I was raised to think that what I'm doing, what I'm feeling, is . . . evil."

"Your father."

"I thought I could move on. I thought we'd worked out my issues with him. Then something like this comes up, and . . ." I sat down on a bench, and Master Eubulon joined me. "When am I going to be done with him?"

"When you learn to let go of your past, and not let it define you."

"But you always said that our past is what makes us who we are!" I was totally confused. "How can I just ignore . . . what that man did to me?"

"By focusing on the positive. The good things that came out of your past. Like your brother."

"Who's dead."

"Yes, but you're getting to know the person he was, through his son."

"Dave?* Yeah, he's cool. He looks so much like my father, though . . ."

"Does that make it hard to trust him?"

"A little, yeah. But I'm trying."

"Have you told Dave about your relationship with Ian yet?"

"No. I . . . I don't know how to bring it up. I don't know what he'll think."

"What he thinks is his problem, not yours. Don't let it stop you from doing what you want to do."

"That's easy to say, but . . . I don't want something like this to get in the way when we're just beginning to form a relationship. I mean, I think he'll be okay with it, but it's hard to tell. I don't really know him that well yet."

"At least you're willing to give him a chance."

"He's not my father. I know that." I thought about my twisted, horrific childhood, and marveled that I had survived it at all. "How can the man still have the power to make my life miserable from beyond the grave?"

"Because you give him that power."

I sat there and stared at my teacher, my mentor, my friend. "Why would I do that?"

"I know you don't mean to. But every time you let his prejudices get in the way of your love, you let him win. You need to just let him go. He's dead now; he can't hurt you anymore. Stop worrying about what he would think. What matters is what you think. And, of course, what Ian is thinking and feeling. Live your own life, not the one your father wanted for you."

I nodded. It made sense. "I'll try, Master."

"Good. Now go back and help Ian fix up your room."

"I will."

"And you're paying to replace those targets."

I looked at him. "All of them?"

"Equipment is expensive. You break it, you bought it."

"Okay," I sighed. "Do we have to pay for the wall too?"

"No, I don't think so," he said with a smile. "Enjoy yourselves."