Till Next Time | completed | currently under re-edit

epilogue 0.4

"Fucking..." I fail to find a word that serves justice to my frustration as my foot-tapping grows more rampant. People waiting near me give me agitated stares.
The itinerary set for me upon my arrival in New York had been that I would be picked up by a trusted attendant at 9:30 AM sharp. I glance one more time at the watch hanging loosely against my wrist as it strikes 11:20.

I sigh loudly enough for the front desk to sneak a concerned peek at me.

I had nearly made up my mind to retire back to my room and abandon this mindless pursuit, which had been silly of me to chase in the first place, when the valet walks in through the door, strolling casually yet with conviction towards where I am seated.

"Mr. Baxter, your ride is here. He is waiting right outside."

I nod sloppily, my feet already asleep by then, and get up to make my way out. A fleeting relief at not being stood up quickly passes me before the vacant anxiety, now even more envigorated, fills my mind.
I walk straight out to the familiar New York chaos greeting me back. A black sedan stood waiting right at the entrance, just like the valet had said.

I make my way over to the passenger's seat with my heart beating harder against my ribcage with every deduction in distance between us. Without looking up from my feet, I pull the door open when I hear the lock click open. 
"Thank you," I mutter under my breath as I adjust into the seat.

"For?" 

My head snaps to the left and I make direct and unflinching eye contact with John Baxter, my father. The piercing green eyes, now a bit clouded, stare holes into my sockets as it reads all of my deepest secrets.

He breaks the uncomfortable silence. "Thank you for?"

I say the first thing that comes to my mind. "Getting the door."

He nods and looks back in front of him, as if unimpressed.

I attempt to truly ease into my seat while having a mental conversation with myself, just like I had one with Will the evening before.
You reclaim your power and your control. You do this on your term.

"I hope you don't mind me showing up a bit late," he says as we pull out onto the main street. "I had my secretary ready to pick you up but at the last minute, I wanted to drive you myself. That required some coaxing." 

"Where are we going?" I ask instead.

"I thought Central Park would be a nice place to sit down and catch up." He imitates something that sounds suspiciously like a nervous laugh.

I admit to myself that I have no idea what to expect from this meeting.

After some hassle in finding a parking spot. we finally walk into the park. Father almost immediately beelines towards the closest unoccupied bench and sits down with a huff. I take the spot next to him at a formal length.

"So, how have you been?" He asks.

I shrug. "I am fine. I have a family now."

"Do you have a picture?"

I sigh before nodding and switching my phone on to a picture of Will holding Ana as a baby. It was from a sunny day we spent in the Netherlands, visiting her parents after the baby was born. I smile from the recollection of that day. The green summer, the sunlight reflecting off of Will's glowing skin making her cheeks look pinker, Anastasia clutched close to my chest as we walked the small lanes hand in hand exploring her little town in Groningen. It was all so immaculate.

"They are beautiful." He smiles. "What are their names?"

"My wife is Wilhelmina. She is from Holland. And our daughter is Anastasia." He hands me the phone back and I slide it back into my pocket.

"You named her Anastasia?" He looks at me in surprise. "You remember her?" I ask him back. He just nods. "I guess you both were closer than I gave you credit for."

"Why did you ask to see me?" I could wait no longer. I just had to know.
"To see you. Tell you that I like your work and know about our family and yours." He answers.
I shake my head. "After fifteen years? You are finally interested after fifteen years? You have never casually dropped an email before. You have never called me or Mom except to ask about college or if we need help with money! Now all of a sudden you want to catch up, like you didn't make a choice and cast us aside. For what? For a mistress? For a business that you are selling?"

"I've sold it already." That all he says at the end of my outburst.

"Brook, I require your permission to be candid if we are to talk about the past and what happened." He says and looks over at me, awaiting my response.
I sigh and say spitefully, "You have my permission to be candid."

"What happened between me and your Counselor was not love in any shape or form. I don't even know what love is. All I have run after all my life is peace, anything that does not overwhelm me. Your mother was the first and only woman who has ever made me feel at peace, whose presence has calmed me down. And I guess that is the closest to love I am ever going to get."

"But I would be a goddamn liar if I said I was faithful to her, even if remotely it looked like so." He rubs his rough palms together. "I had always had whatever I wanted. I had women. I had wealth. I never took it seriously. What I did not get warranted with my life was success. I had to work for it. It kept me engaged, on my feet, ready to evolve at any moment. I never wanted to settle down, which is why being with Annette was so easy. Until we had you. That was the first time it had dawned on me that this was permanent. A child isn't something you can escape. Annette wanted a baby and I wanted Annette to be happy, during which I had traded my best friend in for the mother of my child and my flexibility and freedom for a family. It terrified me, putting someone else's happiness before mine."

"Your Counselor wasn't the first time I had been unfaithful. You are allowed to hate me for it. But that was my only way of feeling like I was still free to do whatever the fuck I wanted! I owed nothing to anyone. I did things for myself."

He shifts, coming closer to me and I move away, disgust coursing through my veins. It had been a bad idea coming here. It had been a terrible idea. 

"It took me fifteen years to understand that I had traded my family's company for uncertainty and loneliness. I have slept alone in that unreasonably huge house for fifteen years and it has not been worth it."

"And what am I to do about it? Forgive you, after you just told me that I ruined your relationship with my mother?" I snap at him.

"No. I don't expect forgiveness. As a man and a father, I just wanted you to know my side. Your mother is a gem of a woman. I did nothing to deserve her but I did everything to rightfully lose her." He breaks into a fit of dry cough.

When he recovers, I ask him, "Why did you sell the company?"

He meets my eyes properly since the car ride, his gaze miraculously clearer now. I encounter a vague feeling of him jeering at me, laughing like a carefree maniac behind his straight face.

"I am moving towards the country, into a relatively smaller cabin. I have lung cancer. Stage four."

I got up from my seat and ran away like a child.