Easing Heimweh (Heim, #1) ✓

20: Worthy

"Come in," I heard Dad's muffled command as I knocked on the door of his office.

Ellis Alonzo, the man who never smiled, was seated on his chair, elbows resting on the glass table as he skimmed through the pages of a book. Behind him, the floor to ceiling windows let enough sunlight through to illuminate the entire space. "At least fix your hair and clothes before entering my office, Evadne," he commented.

He hadn't done as much as throw me a glance, only relying on his peripheral vision to judge my appearance. I guessed that book was far more important than the heiress to his fortune, but I could be wrong. I might not even be the heiress anymore after I disappointed him.

"I want to talk to you about Aelius," I said, sparing no time for hearty greetings. Not that we ever did, anyway.

I would describe my relationship with the head of Alonzo Group to be purely professional. He was my father by blood and on paper, but we never had a connection established in love. It was all just business for him. He'd told me before that I existed for the company's sake. He needed a competent and overqualified heiress to continue the Alonzo's legacy, not play a normal role as a father and raise me to be soft and vulnerable.

Authority has no gender, I remembered him telling me. I was scolded for failing to be the class president during seventh grade. He continued telling me that until I was the student council president in both highschool and college.

Now that very same authority he kept telling me about was stripped away because I had the nerve to choose myself over being a pilot.

"He is not good for you, Evadne," he said in that condescending tone of his. "I heard his parents are dead. He doesn't own a company. His cousin runs a small café in the Philippines. His brother is the same reckless kid who got in an accident with Everen." He fixed his glasses so it rested perfectly on the bridge of his nose. Finally, he looked at me. "Our reputation will be tainted if you marry him."

"But what if he loves me, huh?" I argued, desperately fighting the tears. "What if he fights for us? No, what if I fight for us?"

"You really think he will do that? I have no time for nonsense." He put the book down and it banged against the table. I flinched at the sound, but Dad didn't seem to care. "That boy abandoned you last night. He used your phone to call me and fetch you because he couldn't do it himself. He left while you were asleep. You're telling me he loves you?"

"He—"

"Did he say that he loves you?"

I fell silent. No, he didn't. I wished with all my might that he wouldn't because I was still drowning in my mess and he didn't deserve to be caught up in the disaster that was this family.

No, he never said that he loves me.

"Love will get you nowhere. It is a useless emotion that brings ruin to anything that demands order."

"But you love Mom."

He was taken aback by what I said. Visibly, at that. It took a while for him to respond, and even then, I could tell he was uncertain.

"You're deflecting the truth."

"I am not. I'm merely saying another truth," I argued. "You love Mom. You fought for her. You married her."

"I married her because it was my duty to do so," he spat, like the words were too vile to say aloud. "Our relationship was arranged, and I..."

I knew what he was going to say. We weren't close for him to tell this story over tea, nor did it ever come up in any of our conversations that revolved solely around business, but I could tell the whole story from his eyes that screamed the truth—the story of how he found a German woman whom his parents had him marry for their growing empire and nothing else, because other reasons should not exist.

"You still fell for her. But of course you're never going to admit that." I let out a bitter chuckle. "You've never even told her that you love her."

"Because it's wrong."

I shook my head, and this time I couldn't fight the tears from falling. How vulnerable, I thought. Dad hated seeing any of us cry because we weren't supposed to be weak, but I could care less. "It's not wrong. It's human."

He glared at me through his lenses. "Are you questioning me?"

"Oh I am, all right," I shot back. "You're no god, Dad. You still live, you fall down, you fail, you fall in love. You can deny it all you want, but you're not the perfect man they paint you to be."

"Evadne," he said in that warning tone of his that I grew sick and tired of. "I can give you another chance to prove yourself worthy of bearing our name. Do not pull a stunt like this again."

"You're not giving me a chance," I argued, and it was him who fell silent this time. "I will go and fulfill my duties as captain. You will be announcing to the council that my title and authority are mine again. I will work my ass off for the company again, but I'm giving those chances to myself."

He must know I wasn't bullshitting my way through this conversation. But I knew that we were thinking the same thing. I might be soft and vulnerable, but I was still Evadne Alonzo. My father knew that my authority and power were not handed to me on a silver platter.

I was his heiress for reasons that surpassed my inherent role as his eldest child.

He chose to not utter a single word. Dad pulled away from his table and opened a drawer underneath the glass. Not a second later and he was taking out my uniform, old phone, and epaulets.

"You..."

"I took your phone from Calista," he confirmed. "You know I could force you to come back here if I wanted to, Evadne."

"Yet you didn't."

He nodded. "I didn't. I wasn't going to welcome you back, either," he said. A confession I was prepared to hear. "But you proved yourself worthy. You always do."

Dad wasn't someone who gave praises. I'd worked a thousand days and night to earn something, anything remotely close to a simple I'm proud of you from him, but I gave up long ago. He would never say it, I thought. He was a man of few words, and even fewer acknowledgments of his satisfaction in all my jobs well done.

But I proved myself worthy. I always did. Always had been.

And perhaps his words were the sign to go back.

And I would, with a different purpose this time. A different reason. Not Dad, not Aelius, or anyone else I used to live for.

I chose myself this time.

I chose to begin again.