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Blindly, I shook my head. My mind was spinning. What else didn’t I know about the woman I’d just married? Had Fayette ever been told about her father? About her wealth? Was it even true? As for my own history, hadn’t my grandfather hinted as much? Why had I never taken him seriously?
I knew why. Because it came from him.
“She didn’t touch the tray of food on the table. Get Parker out here. I need to talk to him.”
Thomas disappeared behind the door as I paced. Surely this wasn’t right. George was a friend. He wore jeans and old tennis shoes. He’d always been rough hands and tanned skin from the grueling, hard work outside. I had looked up to him. He was different from us. Better, in my eyes. Genuine. Trustworthy. Down to earth. But he wasn’t. Everything I knew was possibly a lie.
“Master Aimon?”
Parker shut the door behind him and Thomas as they approached.
“Fay’s not in her room. Do you have any idea where she might be?”
There was a slight hesitation as his eyes cut over in the direction of the elevator. “Your grandfather mentioned the pool. Perhaps she went for a swim?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then maybe she headed for the gallery. You were meant to take her to teach her the history.”
“On our honeymoon?”
Parker’s face softened. “The back room was finally finished. Master Carmelo felt it was important for the both of you to see. Today.”
“The gallery?”
Was I missing something? I hadn’t been there since I was a child. I wasn’t even aware they were working on it to begin with. It was a room full of old pictures. A museum of sorts, but…George…
“Your grandfather has put in a lot of time designing it to be perfect. He’s extremely proud of how it turned out. Maybe you should check there first. If she’s not in the gallery, call, and we’ll help search.”
“Thanks.”
The word was hollow as I turned for the hall closest to the front of the house.
Why did it feel like everything was about to change? The weight in my stomach was something I couldn’t push away. My feet were getting heavier with each step. I turned left, staying on the second floor as I headed for the other wing.
Investigation. Plane crash. Fear.
It didn’t take long to get there. A large part of the floor was the gallery. The space took up roughly 5 bedrooms on the top floor, with a spiral staircase leading to the level below. The area was a hotspot for visitors, but not me. Never me. It was a shrine to my mother. To my father. To me. For all those years, growing up, I couldn’t bear it. I wasn’t sure I could now after what I’d learned. If I wasn’t afraid for Fay finding out the truth, I would have prolonged this. As it was, she was going to need me, and I was praying I could make it to her before she discovered more than she could handle.
Dark cherry stood ahead. It took everything I had to walk forward and grab the knob. When I opened the door, it was almost impossible to step through the threshold. The space was nothing like I remembered, yet the portraits and sculptures I could see were mostly the same. I stepped inside, tearing my gaze from my great grandfather’s painting to scan the space for Fay. Between the exhibits of old bicycles, mannequins dressed in gowns, to an actual log with my father and mother’s initials carved into it, I didn’t have a choice but to continue inside. It was hard to see around everything in the opened space, and I needed to find my wife.
“Fayette? Are you in here?”
I shut the door behind me, stepping deeper into the room. Stories from my youth bombarded me as I glanced at my mother and father’s portraits. I could still hear my grandfather’s voice telling of his first meeting with my father. He was harsh when speaking of their story. Cold. He never had love in his tone, or care towards how his callousness would affect me.
“It was early January when we met. Lucia was due back to school in less than a week. She’d been packed for days, anticipating her return. I didn’t know why back then. When Christopher, your father, came to see me, I quickly discovered the reason she was impatient. She was afraid, and she had damn good reason to be. She’d been sick and trying to hide it. Lucia didn’t want me to know what your father had done. Scoundrel.”
“What did he do?”
Cold eyes stared into mine. “He gave her you.”
“Oh. So…you didn’t like him, then?”
Green eyes stayed hard, never transitioning to a softer emotion. “No. I did not. He was not worthy of my daughter. He came from the gutter, just like his father, yet he seduced his way into my money. He wouldn’t admit it, but I knew his type. Had he thought he stood a chance, he would have done the respectful thing. He would have come to me first and asked for her hand. He didn’t. But it happened, and his drive to succeed worked out for this family. Not that I had much of a choice to find that out. We met the same day I found out about you. Unacceptable, in truth, but I wouldn’t let Lucia suffer for your father’s motives. They married immediately, and a few months later, you were born.”
He hadn’t been lying about my father. Although he had love for my mother, my childhood wasn’t full of warm memories of the two of them together, or even affection between them. My father did his duty. He put on a show in front of everyone important. Especially my grandfather. Just not me. Only now I could understand the pain of why Charles had so much anger towards him. Business and money were my father’s love. I was my mother’s. He bought things, and she treasured me. It wasn’t all bad, but it wasn’t always good either. There were fights. Lots of fights between them. And that’s just what I saw in-between schooling. It must have been a lot more frequent than I knew. That was water under the bridge, though. I didn’t want to think of that. Right now, I only wanted one thing, and it wasn’t the past, it was my future.
“Fay?” My steps were big as I glanced around the random objects displayed in the room. “Fayette? Where are you?”
