His name was Nathaniel

28

Nathaniel sat in the cold, sterile room of the police station, nerves prickling under his skin. The air felt thick with tension, and the harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a pale, oppressive glow. His mind was still spinning from the events of the morning-the police banging on the door, the quiet goodbye to Adaliya as she slipped her phone number into his hand, and the somber ride to the station.

Now, sitting there alone, he wondered what would happen next. The faint crinkle of the paper with Adaliya's number in his pocket was the only comfort he had as his anxiety gnawed at him. He tried to stay calm, but deep down, he knew the inevitable confrontation was looming-his father would be here soon.

As the minutes stretched, the sound of heavy footsteps and muffled voices filled the hallway outside the room. Nathaniel's heart pounded. The door swung open, and his father, Edward Donovan, entered with his usual rigid, dominating presence. But today, there was something different about him. He wasn't alone.

An elderly man followed Edward into the room, and Nathaniel's breath caught in his throat. The resemblance was uncanny, though the older man's features were sharper, etched with a lifetime of scorn and harshness. This was his grandfather-Edward's father. Nathaniel had never met him before, and judging by the tense lines around his father's mouth, this visit was as much of a surprise to Edward as it was to Nathaniel.

Edward stopped short as he realized who had followed him in. For a moment, his normally controlled face slipped, betraying a flicker of discomfort. "Father," Edward greeted through clenched teeth, trying to maintain his usual stoic demeanor. "What are you doing here?"

The old man's eyes swept the room, lingering briefly on Nathaniel before he turned his cold gaze back to Edward. His voice was deep and commanding. "You've made quite the mess, Edward. I've come to see if you can salvage any of it."

Nathaniel sat frozen, watching the exchange. His father, normally so in control, so certain of everything, suddenly seemed... smaller. His posture stiffened, and for the first time in Nathaniel's life, he saw his father's facade crack under the weight of someone else's authority.

Before Edward could respond, another figure entered the room. A woman-strong, with sharp, delicate features that bore a striking resemblance to Nathaniel's mother. Her presence filled the room with a different kind of tension. She had the same intensity as Edward, but it was tempered by something softer, more human. This was Lydia, Nathaniel's aunt, his mother's older sister.

"Lydia," Edward muttered, his voice tight with irritation. "This is none of your concern."

Lydia shot him a look of pure disdain. "Nathaniel is my concern, Edward. You've kept him from us long enough, and now it's time for things to change."

The room crackled with unresolved anger, the weight of family history hanging thick in the air. Nathaniel could hardly process the tension between the three of them. His father stood rigid, his hands clenched at his sides, while his grandfather watched him with a look of cold judgment. Lydia, however, was a force all her own-her eyes burning with a fire that Nathaniel had never seen from anyone connected to his father's world.

"We both know you're unfit to raise him," Lydia continued, her voice sharp. "I've already spoken with my lawyers. I'm ready to fight for guardianship, Edward."

Nathaniel's eyes widened at the declaration. His mind raced, struggling to grasp the reality of what was happening. They were fighting over him-his father, his aunt, and now his grandfather, all of them pulling at the threads of his life.

"You think a legal battle will change anything?" Edward shot back, his voice laced with venom. "Nathaniel is my son. You have no right to interfere."

Lydia crossed her arms, her face set in determination. "Nathaniel deserves better than you. You've isolated him, controlled him, and now you're spiraling. The world doesn't revolve around you, Edward. You're no longer capable of making decisions for him."

Edward's façade cracked further, the pressure of his father's presence clearly wearing him down. The old man hadn't said much, but his silence spoke volumes-his mere existence made Edward feel like a child once again, desperate for approval and never receiving it.

"You never were cut out to be a father," the older Donovan said, his voice dripping with disappointment. "You couldn't even handle your own responsibilities."

Edward's face twitched, his shoulders tensing as if the weight of his father's words physically pressed down on him. Nathaniel could see it-the way his father shrank under his own father's disapproval, the way the façade he had carefully constructed all these years was starting to crumble.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that," Edward growled, though the fight in him seemed weaker now, more desperate. "I've done everything I could for Nathaniel. He's my son."

"And look where that's gotten him," Lydia interjected, her tone cold. "Look where your obsession with control has led. You've pushed him away, just like you did with Elara."

At the mention of his mother's name, something dark flashed across Edward's face. His jaw tightened, but he didn't respond. Instead, he turned his back to his sister and his father, his hands shaking ever so slightly.

Nathaniel's heart pounded in his chest. He could hardly believe what he was seeing-his father, reduced to this by the presence of his own father and his aunt. The man who had always seemed invincible, untouchable, was now standing on shaky ground.

Lydia stepped forward, her gaze softening slightly as she looked at Nathaniel. "We're going to fight for you," she said, her voice quieter now, meant only for him. "You're not alone in this. We'll make sure you get out from under his control."

Nathaniel opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He wanted to believe her, wanted to trust that she could take him away from this nightmare, but the fear of his father's retaliation hung over him like a dark cloud.

Edward, regaining some of his composure, turned to face them again. "You'll regret this," he spat at Lydia, his voice filled with venom. "You don't know what you're getting into."

Lydia's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "Oh, I think I do. And so does Father. We're not afraid of you, Edward. You don't hold all the power anymore."

Nathaniel's grandfather, who had been silent for most of the confrontation, finally spoke again, his voice carrying the weight of finality. "This legal battle will happen whether you like it or not, Edward. You've failed to raise your son properly, and we will make sure he's taken care of-by the family that actually cares about his wellbeing."

The tension in the room reached a boiling point. Edward's face twisted with fury, but there was a hint of something else there too-fear. He had always ruled with an iron fist, but now that control was slipping away, and he had nowhere to turn.

Nathaniel sat in silence, watching the storm rage around him. His life was no longer his own, but at least now, there were people who were willing to fight for him. Whether or not he trusted them fully was a different matter, but for the first time in his life, it seemed like there might be a way out.