The man straightened as he looked around. He probably didn’t see Susanne or her mother. Neither did she, really. So he focused on Jonathan.
“I did it because I love you. All of you. That’s why I did what I did. What I thought was best. For all of you.”
She felt the strength of his resolve. The power of his absolute belief that he’d been right in his love and in his actions. Except right behind it was fear. Confusion echoed in the same tempo asthe beat of her heart. And a dawning realization that, in the end, money and power were meaningless.
That was what the man had realized near the end. That everything he’d done to build power had not kept death away.
“He’s beginning to understand,” she said. “He’s beginning to see that love is what matters. And that many of his actions weren’t based in love.”
“I thought they were!” the ghost bellowed.
She gasped at the force of the statement. Jonathan, however, pulled himself up from where he’d been hunched over coughing. He straightened and faced his father.
“Do you see it now, Father? Do you see how what you did was cruel?”
“I love you!”
Love, present tense. And the force of his love for his son filled the space of nothing. Pure, strong, absolute.
Jonathan felt it, too. His eyes widened and filled with emotion. She felt his love for his father, echoing through the space between them. Whatever issues had separated them, their love was undeniable.
“And what about for your wife?” she pressed. “For Susanne?”
The love redoubled once, then again. Pouring through them both.
“I feel it,” Jonathan said. “He loves us. Not just before, but now. So much.”
“Yes,” Giselle agreed. But that didn’t answer the primary problem. “What do you need, my lord? What do you need so you can pass on?”
The answer came swiftly, filling the space with anguish.
“Forgiveness.”
Need filled her enough to choke off her breath. She understood now why the old viscount was clutching the crucifix. And so she took a stab at an explanation.
“You need forgiveness, don’t you? From your family. Before you face the afterlife.”
“Judgement.”
Ah. Yes. Honestly, she had no idea if there was judgement in the afterlife. Her father thought not. He preached love and forgiveness from God. But clearly the old viscount believed in a vengeful god. And that god would demand a great deal from a sinner whose actions were greedy and controlling.
“You want them to say they forgive you,” she clarified. “Before you face judgement.”
Which is when the ghost finally looked straight at her. “From you, too,” he said. “I feel how much you love my son. I was wrong to separate you.”
Now that was a surprise. But again, she should have expected it. The ghost could feel her emotions as clearly as she felt his. He knew now—with growing clarity—how much he had wronged the people in his life. And she felt his fear and his regret in every beat of their combined hearts.
Which left her unable to deny his true wish.
Though the words were hard to say even so.
“You are forgiven,” she said. “I feel your honest regret. You would change your actions if you could.”
Then she faced Jonathan. “Will you forgive him, too? He will not face the afterlife without it. He needs it go move on.”
Jonathan sighed. “He really thought he was doing the right thing for me and our family.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes.” Though she knew that on a deeper level, he’d known what he was doing was more about control than love. That understanding was clear in him now, and that was what he regretted.
