Formed by Fire

"How Could I Walk Away"

Since our "date" was ruined by the confrontation with Richard Conway, we left the "La Reve" and went to talk at Dre's. It's funny, how I consider his warehouse "my home". Within a few weeks I got accustomed to it and I feel myself comfortable here. There is a certain space on his couch that has my name written on it. It's soooo cozy and comfy.

We are sitting together on it, my legs on this lap, me cuddling a woolen blanket. Dre stares at his high brick walls, drawing unconsciously circles on my leg. He didn't talk much on our way here. I now, he is not a big "talker" and that he didn't tell anybody about his personal life in detail. Ian, Ryan and Alex know certain aspects but not the full picture. But keeping everything bottled up inside of him is self-destructive. He must release all his negative thoughts, the abandonment and loneliness after his mother's death.

"You said that your dad doesn't give two shits about you. How are you so sure about that?" His hand on my leg stiffens. "Please, don't speak of him as my 'dad' or 'father'. He hasn't earned that privilege. A father won't let his child suffer alone in an orphanage, grieving his mother's death." Though his tone is venomous, I hear the little boy talking who waited for his dad and is full of resentment, that he didn't come. My heart is breaking for him. But I must keep my cool because I want to get to the bottom of things. "He knew, you were at the orphanage?" Dre only nods. Finally, he turns his head my way. His eyes are dull, no spark in it, only shadows. "His name was on the birth certificate. They informed him of my mother's death and that I am at an orphanage. He denied all connections with me and told them to keep me there." I am astonished of this cruelty. I really thought, I'd seen true parental love and pride in Richard Conway's eyes for his son. Perhaps he is only a good actor. After all, he is a lawyer and lawyers have to be good actors to perform in front of a court, don't they!?

"Okay, so he refused to acknowledge your existence?" Dre nods again. "Then, how did your paths cross again? I mean, obviously he knows, that you are his son?" A cold laugh escapes Dre's mouth that sends shivers down my spine. "When I bought this warehouse and started to renovate it, many thoughts invaded my mind: I had 8 million dollars on my bank account, earned, not inherited, bought a house and ready to study at MIT. I knew, my mum would have been so proud, but I also wanted my sperm donor to know. He should know, how far I came, without his fucking help. I wanted to smack it in his face." I instantly knew what happened. The mechanisms of revenge are always the same. "You confronted him?", I ask to keep him talking. "Yeah, I confronted him", Dre answers lowly with a sudden fire in his eyes. "I made an appointment with his office for a consultation, like a real potential client." O lord, that's like a scenario of a Italian Opera bound to end in a drama. Dre starts to stroke my leg again. "And then the day came. I went to his office." He gulps and I see real emotions that trouble him. I sit up and hug him carefully. He sighs, resting his head at the side of mine. "I was shocked, Kimmy. His office could have been mine. It's located in a building similar to my warehouse. He buys old buildings, keeps their charms and refurbishes them." He leans slightly back to watch my reaction. "We have the same taste, Kimmy, the same liking for design and art." Dre huffs. "I was shocked. I didn't want anything from him: not his physical appearance, not his talents, not his likings or any similarities." Dre closes his eyes. "And here I am...with exactly his green eyes, his hight, his facial structure, his build." When he reopens his eyes, they shine of an intern struggle he fights. "He is blond, and I inherited mum's dark hair and tan." I don't say anything, only pet his hair in a comforting way. "I went inside his office, sat on the chair and said 'Hello dad, nice to meet you'." My movements stop abruptly. Wow, direct as always. "Hey, that feels nice, why did you stop?", Dre complains muttering. "What happened next?", I start stroking his hair again.

"He only watched me, every inch of my face, my body, my hands. Then suddenly he said 'You are Livia's son?'" Dre remains silent for a moment. "He started crying, Kimmy, crying in front of me." I am taken aback. The man I saw a few hours ago didn't seem to be someone who cries? "When he regained his composure, he told me, he didn't know. That she left him without a word, and that she never told him about a pregnancy. He said, he searched for years, for an indication of her whereabouts ... until he married. Then he stopped." Now I am speechless. Could it be true? Dre snorts. "I know, what you are thinking. Of course, I didn't believe him, I have no doubt that he lied. I told him my story, how she died, how I went to an orphanage, how he didn't want me." Dre turns his head my way. Searching my eyes. "He denied everything, Kimmy, everything. Said he didn't have any knowledge concerning mum or me, after she left him." Dre presses his lips in a firm thin line, turning his head away again. "How could I believe his bullshit? I stood up to leave. But not before telling him, that this would be the last time he saw me." His eyes turn misty and I start to feel agitated. "But then...everything changed. He begged me not to leave, told me I had three sisters." He looks straight at me, emotionally churning. "Sisters! I had suddenly sisters, MY own family. How could I walk away, when I wanted nothing more than a family." A smile appears on his face. "I met them, Kimmy, and I was charmed. They are the sweetest girls I have ever met. Their mum ... Alice ... is very nice and loving. She embraced me like a real son. I...like her...but can't let her in. She can't be my second mum. It would be a betrayal."

Poor guy, but I smell more secrets and drama.

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