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“In fact,” Connor continued, “you just missed her and Vincent. Not to mention some pretty great zingers I got in. You should have been there. Should have brought Mom, too. That way I don’t have to respond to all of your threats and insults individually.”
“I didn’t come here to level threats. Or insults.”
“No? If you came for the free booze, you better hurry. They shut down the open bar a few minutes ago, though if you tip the bartender a couple hundred, I think he might sneak you a bottle of something cheap and nasty. Sort of like your morals.”
Mr. Templeton looked around like he didn’t want to be here, like he didn’t want to do this.
“What’s the matter, Dad? After selling nude photos of my fiancée to the press, you’ve suddenly lost your stomach for the rough stuff?”
I felt queasy as soon as Connor said it.
So, apparently, did Mr. Templeton. He caught my eye, then looked away.
It was brief – and I’m not exactly sure a man like him could ever experience the full range of the emotion – but I saw something in his gaze that looked like guilt.
Maybe even shame.
Connor was growing frustrated with his father’s silence. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”
“…no.”
“Well if you didn’t come to trade insults and threats, what the hell are you here for?”
Again Mr. Templeton glanced at me briefly, then looked away in discomfort.
“…I should go.”
“Seriously? What’s up with all the silence and hesitation? This isn’t the Augustus Templeton we all know and hate.”
The older man shifted his jaw to the side.
It was a gesture I recognized in Connor – like when he had let loose at the meeting that afternoon with Miranda.
If father was anything like son, then we were in for a vicious verbal barrage.
After a tense second, though, Mr. Templeton relaxed his jaw. All the fight went out of him. Instead, he looked resigned. Weary.
“…I should go,” he repeated, and turned away.
“No,” I spoke up.
Connor looked at me, mystified.
His father turned back and regarded me with caution, as though worried what I might say.
“We can talk civilly,” I said.
“No we can’t,” Connor said, pissed as hell.
“Yes, we can,” I insisted.
“After what he did to you?! After what my entire family did to you?!”
“It’s obvious he has something he wants to say to you, Connor. You should hear him out.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s your father,” I said softly.
Connor didn’t say anything to that. He just scowled.
Finally he looked over at Mr. Templeton. “Well, my wife-to-be – your future daughter-in-law, the one you tried your best to disgrace – is way more forgiving than I am.” He gestured with his hand. “Go ahead.”
“Actually,” the old man said, “I have something I want to say to you both.”
A feeling of dread trickled through my stomach as Mr. Templeton looked me in the eye.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for what we did to you.”
