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He knew she was referring to loving his father. “I think this calculation is wrong. The copay was thirty euro, yet the doctor has you down for fifty. You may want to call them about that.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, tucking the paper into a folder after making a note at the top.
They sat in silence for the next several minutes as Lucian reviewed his dad’s forms. As he reached the last one, Tibet seemed tired, but a bit more in control of her emotions. As he handed her the last of the papers, she asked, “Does she love you?”
He frowned. “Who?”
“The woman you are running from?”
He stilled. He was not running. “I’m not running.”
She waved her hand. “Of course you are. That’s what you Patras men do; you run when your heart distracts you from business.”
“You’re wrong—”
“Then why is she not here with you? Or why are you not there with her?”
“How do you even know there is a her?”
“A woman knows such things, Lucian. You are a man in the torturous claws of love.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. His eyes scrutinized her sincerity, and he found no reason to believe she was being anything but sincere. Still, he wasn’t sure he could have this conversation with Tibet.
When he didn’t reply, she said, “I still remember the first time I saw you as a boy. You were devilishly handsome, running through the lobby of the hotel. I watched from afar as your family checked in. Antoinette was not yet born. I remember thinking, he’s going to be even more handsome than his father.”
He didn’t want to think about moments like that. She shouldn’t have been there.
“Your mother had come to Paris for that visit. After the three of you left, your father told me he could no longer continue our affair.”
“As always, he proves to be a man of his word,” Lucian said dryly.
“He kept his word . . . for a while. But eventually our paths crossed again and we were right back where we left off, in love. You see, Lucian, when you love someone, you do so without choice. It is a force of its own and no amount of time or distance can dissolve such feelings.
“Your father wanted to be a good husband, and I never wanted to be a mistress. I tried not to love him and he tried not to love me.” She laughed. “I do believe he was quite irritated with his inconvenient emotions. Over time, we realized there was no use fighting what we felt. Our lives became incredibly easier once we simply embraced it.”
“How altruistic of you both.”
“Yes, we were selfish, but our lives were far from perfect. He would never leave your mother. He loved her too, and that was something I was never able to compete with.”
“Lucky for you she died,” he said coldly. Did she think she was earning his compassion?
“I was very sad when your mother passed. So was your father.”
“I should hope. She was his wife and the mother of his children.”
She sighed. “She was a good woman and I regret very much what I did to her.”
“I’m sure you do.” His insincerity was clear.
“I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I know you all hate me, but I want you to know I love your father very much, enough to go behind his back and tell you he’s sorry for the way he abandoned you children. Do you know what it’s like, to hold your husband’s hand, a hand you held for over thirty years, when you fear he will not make it through the night, and hear him confess his one regret is you? It is a horrible feeling.
“I love him more than I love myself. I gave up any hopes of a family to be with him. Unfortunately, he did the same. I do not think he realizes what he said when he was ill, but I will never forget. His one regret in this lifetime is choosing a woman over his children.”
Lucian’s breathing was labored. What difference did any of this make? His father had made his choice years ago, and now he had to live with it. Was she telling him this in hopes that he would offer her some form of comfort?
“My mother also had regrets when she died. Suffice it to say, our family’s fucked-up, Tibet, and you knowingly married into it.”
She nodded. “I did. I just thought you should know that he loves you.”
She stood, and he frowned as she gathered her papers and made to leave. “Why did you tell me all that?”
She turned, a sad look on her face. “Because your father is a difficult man to love. I imagine you are too. Our hearts choose for us, and mine chose Christos. Whoever you love, Lucian, love her well. Do not cause her pain because you are too afraid to face your emotions.”
