Written In The Stars: Book Two

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: A DARK TRUTH

Elijah was fifteen minutes late by the time he walked into his go-to diner.

Normally, with a shitty week, you could at least take a breath and celebrate the end. Since it was now Saturday, he was seven hours away from exactly one week of shit. The issue with this shitty week was that everything would follow him into the next. His only comfort here was having Madeline back, and a grandfather he could very well never want to speak to again after this conversation, depending on what the guy had to say.

The old man wasn't sitting alone this time. Instead, a man in late forties, early fifties sat by his side. Dark hair, like him. Glasses like him. Green eyes like him. Their builds were different, but otherwise, it was looking into a mirror at his future. It didn't take a genius to guess who this was.

"I take it you're Kevin?" His mother's little brother by three years, which put him at around fifty or fifty-one. Elijah didn't wait for a reply before sitting across from the two men.

The guy had been staring at him since the second the bell chimed above the door, and that hadn't stopped once he sat. "I'm Kevin," he confirmed. "You look so much like my eldest son."

He should have been fucking ecstatic to meet his uncle, but right now Elijah just had a cloud over his head which he just wanted gone. "What would I have read in those diaries? Give it to me straight, because I've had a shitty week, and I've been awake and moving non-stop since four this morning."

Hank pressed his lips together and looked down at his cup of coffee. "I suppose I'll just come and say it then." He knocked twice against the table, took a short sip of coffee, and set his mug down. "Her diary would have talked about Sandra having a wild weekend at a Journey concert the summer of 1981, and also talked about meeting the man who would later adopt you in 1983."

Elijah swore he had a ringing in his ears. All the thoughts running through his mind a million miles an hour vanished. Hell, even everything around him felt like it was going in slow motion. "I'm sorry. What the fuck did you just say?"

He saw Hank's lips move, likely repeating what he'd just said, but Elijah couldn't hear a fucking thing. No words would register until he felt a hand shaking his arm.

Elijah blinked once. Twice. Then saw the server standing next to their table, notepad in hand, staring back at him. "Coffee, I guess. Nothing to eat for me." He waited until the server walked away, forcing his attention to focus on the men across from him. "Are you saying Harrison isn't my father?"

"Legally he was," Kevin began, taking over for his father. "He had every right to keep you from us after Sandra's death. Biologically and in all the other ways that matter, no, he wasn't your dad. The only thing Sandra knew about your dad was that he was on a road trip across the country for a year after graduating college, going to a bunch of concerts, and that his first name was Daniel. She had no way of getting a hold of him, and no way to find him."

When Elijah just sat there, staring at a mug he hadn't even noticed was set in front of him, Hank spoke up. "Sandra was a twenty-year-old single mother who was terrified. We did our best to help her with you, but she thought Harrison was her answer to a stable life. He treated her well, didn't mind she had a baby, and claimed to want to take care of her. They met by chance when he was visiting the area, and after seeing each other long distance for a year, they married against my wishes, because I didn't trust him. And she moved away. Her wedding day was the last time I saw my daughter."

Elijah leaned back in the booth and rubbed at his face. This wasn't real. It couldn't have been. And yet, it still made perfect sense. Hank was right. This was a brain fuck to hear, and yet it answered so many questions he'd never asked his father. But he wasn't his father. Harrison didn't deserve the title before, and deserved it even less now. "So everything fucked up about me- the mental health issues, the anger, the drinking, those were from trauma, not in my DNA?"

"I don't know what's in your DNA, son," Hank said sheepishly, his hand trembling against the coffee cup. "Not on that side. But trauma is a powerful thing, and if you ever want to share what you went through with me, I'll be here. And if you want to find out who Daniel was, we'll do our best to help you with that, too. I suppose a good start would be those testing kits from one of those companies you see on the television."

It was worth a shot, Elijah supposed, but he wasn't sure if he needed to know who his dad was. Maybe it was enough to know Harrison wasn't it, but this would also mean that Elijah wasn't an orphan like he thought he had been for the last four years. "God, I wish this coffee had booze in it right now."

Kevin opened his mouth to respond, but his dad gave him a whack on the chest. "He's two years sober, so don't you dare offer."

Elijah took in a breath, then let it out slowly through his nose. He could handle this. It was driving him to the brink, but he could handle this. Because his father would never again have control of his emotions, or his life. He was dead. His hatred and mind games could no longer reach Elijah. He was safe. He was strong, and could get through this.

"I'll do the DNA test," Elijah finally said. Even if he chose to never meet the guy, he wanted to say he had this man's blood in him, not Harrison's, and he wanted a last name to go with it. I'd also be nice to know what kind of man he was. It wasn't as if he ran away from fatherhood. He'd only known his mother for a few days, apparently.

Either way, the only father Elijah needed was Mitch. He was a good man, took care of him when he was never his responsibility. Gave him money, his car, clothed him, fed him, loved him, wiped the vomit from his face, drove him to rehab and stood by his side even when Elijah made it difficult. That was his dad. He didn't need another. In fact, it was nice to officially say he had one less in Harrison.