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“You mean she found out,” he said, unable to keep the accusatory tone from his voice. He knew while his father worked as the front desk manager at a five-star hotel, he’d met an uber rich American heiress who fell for his charms.
“Your mother had known for a while. Back then, things were different… and she didn’t make a big deal about it. Not that this makes it all right. I know that now.”
“So you could have carried on with my mom. But you didn’t because of your own choice.” He could have raised his sons. He could have—
“Yes. I mean, I couldn’t have carried on with your mother… but I could have carried on with you and your brother.” His voice wavered, and tears filled his eyes.
Sadness clumped Luc’s throat. He could have had years of being a child, and not a caretaker, years of being a son and not his mother’s saving grace. His father had left, his brother died, his mom wasn’t well, and he… he lost many years too. “Yes, you could.”
Tears fell from his father’s eyes, and he wiped them with the back of his hand. “At first, I told myself I’d send for you two after I got settled in the US. But then I realized your mom needed you, I couldn’t take you away from her,” he said, his voice wavering.
“Your wife certainly didn’t mind this decision” he said, then kept from developing that train of thought. His father had been the one at fault—not his then wife. “You realize you’re not coming across like dad of the year, right? From any year.”
“Yes. I promise you there wasn’t one day I didn’t think of you two. I called your mother a few times, tried to reason with her, but she was too bitter to agree with me about letting me talk to you.”
“She never told me that,” he said, a cynical part of him wondering if his father was lying now. Though why would he? He could have lied about all the other things and made himself look better. Luc wondered if he should give him the benefit of the doubt.
He touched his forehead. “A part of me is grateful. I know it would have been easier for you to hate me than still want me around.”
A fire brewed in Luc’s heart, too many emotions wrestling one another. “What about Marcel’s death?”
“I visited his grave when I found out, months later. It’s the third grave to the left on the section of the cemetery. I know so because I visit it every time I’m in France.”
The location he’d given him was correct. The resentment in his chest shifted a bit, not completely dissipating, but giving space to a new emotion. Hope? “Why did you never look for me? As an adult?”
"Because I know I screwed up, and I’m bad at fixing my mistakes in my personal life. My dear wife resented me because I didn’t want to have children. I didn’t think it would be fair, to add more kids in this world when I wasn’t being a present father to the one I still had. She never got over that, and I can’t say I disagree.”
Luc stepped back until he plopped down on a chair, the weight of the revelations keeping him still. He’d wondered why his father never had more children. After all he had to leave his legacy to someone, and Luc didn’t need or want any of it. Could there be a small part of Charles that really had that sense of self-awareness? “Why are you telling me all this now?”
“I’m tired of looking in from the outside. Ever since you’ve moved here, I hoped things between us would happen more organically, but then I realized the other day after talking to Kira that it wouldn’t happen unless I acted on it. I’ve been a coward for too long, and I’m not getting any younger. I’d like to leave this earth better than what I’ve been.”
“Kira, the one you hired to keep tabs on me?”
He flashed him a small smile. “She did a bad job as a potential spy. Barely told me anything. But then something better happened between you two.”
“Since you’re being honest, I’ll be honest too. I’ve met Samantha and we’re planning on taking the merger from you,” he said, as a last test to his father’s newfound kindness. The man he thought he knew would never take such threat lightly, and it was best to know now instead of being fooled by him.
His father reached for the handkerchief from his inside pocket, bearing his initials, and dabbed it on his cheeks. “I wondered if you’d be up to something when you accepted moving here. I guess that’s better than you poisoning me.”
Luc swallowed the knot in his throat. “Is that all you have to say?”
His father sighed. A touch of kindness and regret flicked in his eyes. “If taking that merger from me will make up for all the hurt I’ve caused you, then I won’t stop you. If you’re passionate about it, you even have my blessing. All I know is I’m not getting younger, and I’d like the opportunity to do the one thing, with all my money and power, I wasn’t able to—be your father.”
Luc touched his heart, which was working a way to gallop from his chest. Could he do it? Could he believe his father, for once? Would he be brave to give him a chance, or stupid? “I don’t know what to say.”
His father sat next to him, and touched his elbow, prompting him to look at him in the eye. “You don’t have to make any decisions now. Just think about it. Now that we laid all cards on the table, do you think you can maybe give me a chance to get to know the man you’ve become?”
Again, moisture evaporated from Luc’s throat. “What if you don’t like what you see?”
His father smiled. “That, my son, is a risk I’m willing to take.”
