Marriage By Deception

11. Crossroads of The Heart

The days following Christopher's visit to his childhood home were filled with a strange sense of anticipation. The conversation with his mother had left him feeling unsettled yet determined. He was more certain than ever that he needed to confront his father, not just to resolve their differences, but to understand the man who had loomed so large in his life.

The tension between them had grown unbearable, and Christopher knew that avoiding the confrontation would only deepen the divide. He spent his days at the startup, working tirelessly, but his mind constantly wandered back to that looming conversation. The words he needed to say swirled in his head, never quite settling into place.

Finally, one evening, after another long day at work, Christopher made the decision. He would go to his father's office the next day and have the conversation they had both been avoiding. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but it was a necessary step if he was ever going to move forward.

The following morning, Christopher arrived at the towering building that housed his father's company. The polished marble floors and gleaming glass walls felt strangely cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of the startup's modest office. As he walked through the familiar corridors, memories of his time working there flooded back—memories of expectations, pressure, and a life that had never quite fit.

When he reached his father's office, Christopher paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He had rehearsed this conversation countless times in his mind, but now that the moment was here, he felt a pang of uncertainty. Steeling himself, he knocked on the door.

"Come in," his father's voice called out, muffled by the heavy door.

Christopher pushed the door open and stepped inside. His father was at his desk, as usual, reviewing a stack of documents. When he looked up and saw Christopher, his expression was a mixture of surprise and guardedness.

"Christopher, "his father said, setting the papers aside. "I wasn't expecting you."

Christopher nodded, taking a seat in front of the desk. "I know. I wanted to talk."

His father leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Christopher. "About what?"

Christopher took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "About us. About what's been happening between us."

There was a long pause as his father regarded him with a measured gaze. "I see. And what exactly do you want to say?"

Christopher hesitated for a moment, then plunged ahead. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said—the expectations you have for me, the future you've planned. And I understand where you're coming from. But I also need you to understand that I can't live the life you've mapped out for me. It's not who I am."

His father's expression hardened a flicker of anger in his eyes. "And who exactly are you, Christopher? A man who throws away his legacy on a whim?"

Christopher felt a surge of frustration, but he forced himself to stay calm."It's not a whim. It's about finding my path, about figuring out what I want from life. I know it's hard for you to accept, but I can't pretend to be someone I'm not."

His father's jaw tightened, the tension in the room palpable. "You think I don't understand that? Do you think I haven't been in your shoes? I made sacrifices, Christopher—sacrifices you can't even begin to understand. I gave up my dreams to ensure that this family would thrive, and now you're throwing it all away."

Christopher met his father's gaze, the words his mother had shared echoing in his mind. "I know about the sacrifices you made," he said quietly. "Mother told me about your dreams, about the choice you had to make. And I respect that. But I can't make the same choice. I need to find out who I am, even if that means stepping away from the family business."

His father's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by Christopher'sknowledge. For a moment, the anger in his expression softened, replaced by something more complex—regret, perhaps, or sorrow.

"You have no idea what it cost me," his father said, his voice lower now, almost resigned. "The life I wanted... it's gone, Christopher. There's no getting it back. But I made peace with that because I believed I was doing the right thing. For you, for this family."

Christopher felt a pang of sympathy, but he pushed forward. "And I understand that, Father. But you can't live my life for me. I have to make my own choices, even if they're different from the ones you made."

His father looked away, his gaze distant. "And what if those choices lead you nowhere? What if you end up with nothing?"

Christopher took a deep breath, his resolve firm. "Then I'll have no one to blame but myself. But I'd rather take that risk than live a life filled with regret."

The silence that followed was heavy, both men lost in their thoughts. Finally, his father turned back to him, his expression unreadable.

"I can't say I approve of what you're doing, Christopher," he said slowly. "But I suppose... I have to accept it. You're a grown man now, capable of making your own decisions."

Christopher felt a wave of relief, though it was tinged with sadness. "Thank you, Father."

His father nodded, though there was a sense of finality in his tone. "I won't stand in your way. But don't expect me to support you in this."

Christopher nodded, understanding the unspoken message. "I won't ask for your support. I just want you to know that I'm not doing this to hurt you. I'm doing it because I need to."

His father didn't reply, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the office walls. After a long pause, he finally spoke again, his voice softer, almost wistful. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Christopher. Truly, I do."

Christopher stood, feeling a mix of emotions—relief, sadness, and a strange sense of closure. "I hope so too," he said quietly. "Thank you for listening."

His father nodded once, then turned back to his work, the conversation over. Christopher hesitated for a moment, then turned and left the office, closing the door softly behind him.

Ashe walked out of the building and into the cool evening air, Christopher felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The conversation had been difficult, but it was a step toward healing—a step toward understanding. His father's words echoed in his mind, a reminder of the complexities of love, sacrifice, and the choices that define us.

For the first time in a long while, Christopher felt a sense of peace. The path ahead was still uncertain, but he was no longer burdened by the expectations of others. He was free to make his own choices, for better or worse, and that was a freedom worth fighting for.

The city lights flickered to life around him as he walked, casting a warm glow on the streets below. The future was his to shape, and whatever it held, Christopher knew he was ready to face it.