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“Amon – Cristoff’s father?”
He nodded. There was a bleakness in his eyes but, for the most part, he spoke without any sense of emotion.
“Was it … intentional?”
He thought of the papers. He shook his head. “It was reported as an accidental overdose.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Her astuteness made his heart turn over in his chest. “I know.” He wouldn’t drop his gaze. That would suggest far greater grief than he’d admit to.
“She was so upset by the divorce?”
His laugh was a sharp sound, completely devoid of any human emotion. “No. Amon was nothing to her. My mother loves nothing better than to feel herself falling in love. Whatever the hell that is.”
Seraphina shelved the question that was burning in her mind. Did he not believe in love at all? Was its power so despicable to him?
“She married him quickly. They were ill-suited. They lived together for a few years. Both cheated much of the time.”
“And you and Cristoff were along for the ride?” She prompted.
“Yes and no. Cristoff and I were at boarding school together. That’s how they met. I never liked him before. I sure as hell didn’t like him afterwards.”
Finn nodded. “It must have been very difficult for her.”
“The break up? Not at all.”
Finn’s eyebrows drew together. “But she … I mean … it wasn’t an accident, was it?”
“No.” He saw no sense in lying to Finn. “She meant to kill herself. And she would have succeeded if I hadn’t gone home unexpectedly.”
“You … you were the one who found her?” She wanted to go to him. To wrap her arms around his waist and tell him that no one deserved to experience such grief. But instinctively she knew Caradoc would clam up if she treated him in any way as a victim. He didn’t want pity.
He nodded sharply. “I’d left some documents at home. I was only nineteen. None of this had happened yet.” He gestured distractedly to the room they were sitting in. The overt luxury and wealth surrounded them completely. “Back then, I was just someone who worked for a broker on Wall Street.”
Finn couldn’t imagine Caradoc working for anyone else. As though he read her thoughts, he nodded. “I only lasted six months. It was enough. I understood the industry. I knew what I needed to do and who I needed to be in order to become a success. He taught me well. Not by being good at what he did, but by showing me how I didn’t want to operate. He was too soft. Too slow. He had too high an expectation of a work life balance.” His smile was cynical. “I learned that I could sacrifice myself to this life completely, and make something great happen.”
She pushed aside the revelation. It was irrelevant and distracting and it deserved proper consideration later. Not then. Not when she was coming to understand so much about his life. “So you went home …”
“And there she was,” he agreed. He lifted his mug and sipped the now-cool coffee. “It was touch and go. She’d had a shit load of painkillers. She should have died. She was … lucky.”
“Your poor mother,” Seraphina said, for lack of other words. What she wanted to say was, “You poor thing. I love you. I want to take away your pain.” But there was no way she possibly could. He was not someone who would appreciate the pity.
Caradoc shrugged. He wasn’t sure he agreed with that sentiment. “She was troubled. Deeply troubled.”
“And now?” Finn said quietly.
“Who knows? She seems the same as always. That’s the problem, Finn. I couldn’t have imagined she’d do something like that. She was always in control of her life. I didn’t respect her decisions, but I respected that she’d made them so unequivocally. To learn that she was unhappy enough to try to … to end everything …”
“You must worry all the time that it could happen again.”
He shook his head, and something seemed to settle on his features. Calmness. Resolution. “No. Not really. I’m not responsible for her decisions any more than she is mine.”
Finn weighed his words up in her mind, trying to assess the truth of what he was saying. Finally, cautiously, she murmured, “I don’t think you’re that unaffected.”
“Don’t you?” He shook his head. “Then you’re right. Of course I was affected. She’s my mother. I care for her. I want her to be happy. But she has chosen a life that causes her much pain. The crucial word being ‘chosen’. Her life, her choices. It would be futile for me to worry about hers when I’m powerless to change them.”
Finn took this statement in. It didn’t sit right. She inherently disagreed with his point of view, and yet she could see that he was intractable. She bit down on her lower lip thoughtfully. “Have you talked to her about it? About what happened that day?”
