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I look back at him in surprise. “You suppose?”
He exhales as if annoyed and then sits back, studying me.
“I’m sorry for what I said the other night.”
“That’s…decent of you.”
“Yeah, well, rest assureddecentis not a word used to describe me very often.”
“No offense, but I can see why. You really put up a wall, don’t you?”
“It’s not a wall. It’s who I am.” His voice is hard as stone.
If I were smarter, I’d proceed with caution, but this conversation is so honest and rare I don’t want to retreat now. Besides, before tonight, I already came to terms with never speaking to him again. It feels like there’s nothing to lose in continuing down this road, even at the risk of offending him.
“That’s…unfortunate.”
His short laugh is curtailed by a shake of his head. He sobers again.
“Whatever issues I have with your mother are not issues I have with you. I won’t conflate the two again.”
His words are laced with anger even all these years later, and I can’t help but ask, “So you really believe my mother was the reason behind your parents’ divorce?”
He sighs and scans the room as if this subject is too heavy to discuss, especially in this setting, but I’ve broached the question and now he’s forced to answer or ignore me. He thinks on it for so long I shrug and am about to move on to fill the silence with talk about the burgers, fries,something, then he surprises me.
“Frédéric Mercier is a complicated man. Most people wouldn’t want to sit across from him in a boardroom, let alone a dinner table. My childhood was interesting, to say the least, and what comfort I had was found in the arms of my mother. She was a shield against my father, though I should be clear, he was not abusive, at least not physically. Still, as a child I equated happiness and peace with my mother, so when I was five and Frédéric announced that they were getting a divorce, I was furious. That divorce broke her.”
“I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t acknowledge my apology before he continues, “And when, three months later, my father told me he was marrying someone new, I could only assume he wanted this woman to replace my mother. Only equipped with what I’d learned in childhood fairy tales, I pictured this new stepmother like I would picture any big bad monster: with snarling teeth, a venomous bite, and long sharp claws.”
His eyes finally meet mine, and there’s conflict there, a war behind his gaze.
“But I never met Kathleen. I never found out if she was the villain I made her out to be in my mind. My father married her and never looked back, at least not until I was old enough to be useful to his company.”
I sit with his confession, trying to reconcile it with what I know of my mother and Frédéric’s relationship. Did she start seeing him when he was still married? Does it even matter now?
Let the sleeping dog lie.
It’s hard not to look at Emmett differently after what he’s just told me, not to see the sad, angry boy buried inside this beast of a man.
I wanted to hang on to my anger at him, but it’s useless.
He and I are more similar than I’ve previously cared to admit. Our childhoods weren’t identical, but the shared common thread tugs at my heart strings enough that none of our strife seems all that important anymore.
“Sorry, what’d I miss?” Alexander says, scooting in to reclaim his seat beside me.
Emmett is quiet, his dark brows furrowed as he stares out into the crowded restaurant.
“Nothing,” I reply, saving Emmett from having to answer his brother. “Just…us making nice.”
“No shit?”
“Yes. We can all be one big happy family now,” Emmett says with obvious sarcasm.
“I’ll get us all matching charm bracelets,” I tack on.
Emmett looks back at me, and though we don’t reach across the table and shake hands, it still feels like we’ve come to some kind of agreement. We can exist together, be civil, and who knows…down the line, maybe things will slowly change for the better.
