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"It will take time."
"Yeah. How are you?"
"Tired and wondering why the hell I chose to become a criminal defense lawyer."
"I tried to talk you out of it."
"You did not. You were the one who encouraged me to follow my dreams."
"That's because you were hell-bent on doing law. And you are extremely good at it."
"I suppose you are right," he sighed. "Did you call the guy?"
"His name is Tyrone and no, I just sent him a text, which by the way, he did not respond to."
"Asshole."
"Hey."
"You know I am right. Dump the prick, Anika. You deserve better."
"I have been thinking about that too. As a matter of fact, I have been doing a lot of thinking."
"Good for you. Now I have several phone calls to return and tons of work to do before I get out of here. Check in, will you?"
"You know I will. Don't work too hard."
"Too late," he muttered as he clicked off. Putting away the phone, she concentrated on the meal. Setting the plate aside, she went and poured herself another full glass of wine and took it with her into the bathroom.
*****
In his own sumptuous suite, Jaylen was staring moodily into his glass of bourbon. He was having dinner with the old man and it was not something he was looking forward to. Besides this, coming here had brought the memories rushing back. His mother had lived here and had returned after the marriage had ended.
He had spent the holidays with her and at one point considered making it his home. It was in Italy, that he had decided that he was not going to follow in his father's footsteps but choose his own path and she had encouraged him to do just that.
Missing her was something he was still trying to deal with and the years had not managed to dull the pain.
The therapy session last night had not gone as well as he had expected.
His mind turned to the conversation between them.
“You are not willing to meet him halfway? It sounds like your dad is trying to make amends.”
“For years of neglect? And for ruining my mother’s life?”
“You mean your life.”
Jaylen had glared at him. “I am fine.”
“Are you?” Dr. Jeffries had asked patiently. “It seems to me that you want him to pay for the way he handled things with your mother.”
“He left her.”
“And you told me in earlier sessions that he lived to regret it.”
“It was too damn late.”
“But it is not too late for you. For him to try and make things right between you.”
