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"I heard you're dating Ms. Windsor," my father says, shifting the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other. Since my mother was diagnosed with asthma, he quit smoking and picked up this habit instead."I am," I reply, hands clasped behind my back. He spits the toothpick into the ashtray and stands to his full height. When he’s up, he’s nearly half a foot taller than me. I don’t think my 6'0" is short, but knowing he was well over 6'2" at my age makes me feel small.
He's my father, but I’m nothing like him. In his prime, he was an F1 champion, with five world championships to his name. After retiring, he built Maverick Automotive, now the country’s top automotive retailer. And he’s friends with the world’s elite—the Windsors. His life is flawless: a perfect birth, a perfect career, a perfect marriage. He is perfect. Or is he?I admired him once, wanted to be like him. But everything changed with one request from Mr. Windsor. He destroyed Wren’s life for that man. He crushed the girl his son loved, for the sake of a friend. He’s not perfect. He can never be. Not when his own son hates him.
But I'm caught off-guard when I feel his hands on my shoulders. I never thought he would hit me; he never has. But I also didn't think he would embrace me. Wrapping his arms around me, he took me in a warm hug, thawing my heart a little, a little after two years of isolation.
"I'm really happy for you, son," he says, his voice throaty. "After all this time, these last two years, you've finally..." He takes a sharp breath and pulls back, hands still on my shoulders. "I started to think that I've ruined your life. Maybe what I thought was right actually robbed you of love altogether. I'm so glad you've finally moved on. That too with the daughter of my best friend." He exclaims with joy, a smile stretching from ear to ear. He was happy. No, he was on cloud nine.
My lips twitch to return the smile, but my heart clenches, holding onto any thought of really moving on. Because that would mean I've forgiven him and uncle. That I've forgiven myself.
I shake his hands off my shoulders, put on a small smile as I say my goodbye, and run away from the room, from this haunting house, from the thoughts I've abandoned back there. I run to another prison, housing a prisoner like me. I run to Arianna.
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"Son!" Mr. Windsor exclaims as he wraps his arms around me.
Too much physical contact today for my liking. "I'm so proud of you."
"Proud of me?" I ask, not understanding what he means. "I mean," he says with a conniving smile, "you've finally learned to make the right decisions. Decisions that will benefit not only you but also your family. You're finally dating someone who's not beneath you. Even though my sweet Arianna is in a league of her own." He laughs, placing his hand on my shoulder.
YOU ARE READING
Heirs Of Aurous
Humor❝ They say, who loves first, falls hardest, but what if this story is she fell first, he fell harder. ❞ Truths hurt, lies are a blasphemy in a relationship. But have you ever felt it? When everything feels like they're infinitely stretching your sou...