LOVING THE DEVIL [02]

Chapter 38.

CHAPTER 38: Lewis

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After that whole fiasco at the baby shower and several apologies to Sofia and Zane for causing a bit of an uproar amongst my aunts and uncles, I sat in the garden of the country estate and took in the sun that late afternoon.

It was almost the end of summer, the days were getting colder and the air more prickly upon my skin. Winters in NYC were the times where I remained indoors the most and where defrosting my car was a daily thing. However, this afternoon was relatively warm and I sat there going through the events of the baby shower. It was a shambles—a mess even. Sofia and Zane weren't angry with me because after I left, they had a right go at Moira. I still shouldn't have argued with her, though for the sake of a good time at the party. I should've kept my mouth shut instead of cause trouble.

My father was worried—as he usually was—and often came out to check on me. I could tell his daughter arguing with the wife of an incredibly disliked uncle concerned him as well as surprised him. To be honest, I was almost not expecting it myself, but inside, I just knew that looking at my family, is it's actually surprising at all?

I wished I'd met my uncle Lewis—dad's brother—because he seemed like the kind of person who I could've spoken to and gossiped to. No one would know. Just me, him and every Harrington family secret there is to exist. Funnily enough, I would've also respected him.

Today was no exception to his concern and my father came outside to join me on the seat beside me. There were no words even if the air was so thick of everything we wanted to say to each other. I knew he wouldn't be comfortable talking so much about his brother because I understood it still hurt even to this day.

"You've never met him," he suddenly spoke up, causing me to look over to him, "Lewis, I mean. He would've been so proud of you, you know? You're just the kind of person he wished he grew up becoming. Oh, you should've seen him when we were younger—I wish I saved him all the pain our family gave him."

"She had no room to talk when she married the man responsible for your brother's death—" I bit out quickly, knowing that even if a person had died, they should at least rest in peace wherever they may be now.

"Cassidy," he warned me, "I know you don't like your uncle James, but he's still your uncle. There were multiple factors to Lewis' death, not just your uncle James."

"No, dad. Did he really bully uncle Lewis? Yet his wife has the nerve to rub dirt all over his name. I was defending him because they keep talking about someone who probably endured enough. Couldn't they just let him rest?" I stared straight ahead, unable to regret the things I said. I had been truthful as I'd been for years and my family hated it. How awkward it must be that they have no idea when and where I'll speak up, but if it's so necessary then I shall.

Even if I ruined the day, I stand by everything I said to that woman. She often spoke about him—Chloe—and even me like we weren't people and I refused to let someone of the likes of her talk down on us.

"He must've been a good person."

"He was," he responded, "he was the one thing that kept me, Clark and Jennifer together. When he was in hospital a lot, we couldn't let him die knowing the rest of us hated each other's guts so we made an effort to get along."

I read a few old articles and newspapers dating back as far as my uncle Lewis was born. He was known as the runt out of all his siblings—the weakest one in the family. I'm pretty sure he was one of the youngest cousins, at the time as well. The boy didn't benefit that much from his inheritance from his father, let alone what he would be getting from the family as a whole. I've even heard about him not being a planned baby at all.