Zach.
If mankind has the supernatural power to turn back the hands of time, maybe life would have been much easier. The option of changing my current situation sounded appealing but I didn’t see that dream coming true any time soon.
I sat inside my father’s office, seething with anger, brooding, fuming, thinking, planning – anything to get Blaire out of this fucking mess!
He sat across the desk in front of me, eyeing me with disdain. The last few days have been hell for me. Dad’s rage at my affair with Blaire was driving him crazy and he’s taking his anger out on Blaire in particular.
“Dad, you can’t do this,” I pleaded. “You can't send her back to London. Please, I beg you.”
Yes! He wanted to send Blaire back to London, to separate us.
He drummed the table loudly, glaring at me with contempt. “It’s the only way out. That’s the best way to separate you and your sister and stop the scandal!” he growled.
I sprang to my feet, full of determination. “Please, don’t do this. This is all my fault, not Blaire’s. Punish me instead. I pushed her to this. I tempted her to succumb to me. She is young and naive. I failed in my role to protect her and lead her aright. If anyone should face the consequences, it should be me, not Blaire!”
He didn’t say anything. He continued to look at me as if I was an alien yapping gibberish, but I persisted. “Do whatever you want with me, but don’t destroy her life.” I heaved a deep breath. “You are the only father she knew. It already killed her that you and Mom never showed her that you loved her. All you ever did was punish her for what Mom did to you! Please, Dad, don’t continue the punishment by sending her away again. That's just too much.”
Everybody regarded me as a tough guy, but today, no more toughness remained in me. I was broken and shattered. It killed me that Blaire was going to suffer because of me. I made the vow to protect her with my life, and I must do just that, even if it meant I would lose her.
I stepped away from the desk and walked around the room, trying not cry or throw things around the room. This man was making things more difficult than I’d thought.
“I will go. I’m the one who isn’t a member of this family, anyway. I’m not a Stewart. I’m not your son.” I paused my movement and looked him straight in the eye. “You have to let me go.”
His eyes took on a cruel expression that scared me. He clenched his right fist and slammed the table so loud that I cringed. He rose slowly to his feet, trained his icy eyes on me, and roared, “You are my son! Stop saying nonsense!”
He walked up to me and grabbed my shoulders firmly, then leaned his head toward mine as if he wanted to give me a head-butt. I trembled but stood still. His head stopped a few inches from my forehead, his hot breath blowing at my face. “You were a son to me the moment you were delivered by your birth mother at that hospital and brought straight into my arms. While Blaire… Blaire is the daughter of the man who stole her mother from me for a night, just to prove to me that he could,” he snarled. “Just to make me look like a fool! Just to prove a point!”
He released my arms and paced away from me. He turned his back on me and stared into space. “Every time I look at her, I am reminded of how her mother was too weak and gave in to that bastard, that dimwit, that-that-...” he trailed off for a moment, then continued. “Blaire reminded me of what a slut her mother was!”
Then he faced me again. His eyes, a little softer this time. “The moment I looked at you in the nursery room, I knew you were the son I had always wanted. It was a bonus that you were handsome, responsible and a genius! You made me proud every day.” His voice quavered and a tear dropped from his eyes. “You are the only one I have left in this world, and I will leave everything to you when I'm gone. You will be my legacy, regardless of whether you want it or not.”
He suddenly broke down in tears and lowered himself to the chair I’d vacated. He bent his head, shaking with his sobs. I went to stand beside him and placed my hands on his shoulders, comforting him while fighting back my own tears. I’ve never seen this vulnerable side of him. I never knew that he loved me this much. Even though I knew he loved me more than Blaire, it never occurred to me how much I meant to him until now.
He grabbed one of my wrists. “Blaire was never a child to me. But you… you are my only child,” he said, his voice shaking. “Regardless of what the courts said, things will never change. You will forever be my son.” He sighed. “Unfortunately...” he continued, “...Blaire is legally my daughter. Regardless of who her real father is. That is why you and she can never be together.” He looked up at me with his tear-filled eyes. “This will be the biggest scandal of our family. We will never survive this… NEVER!”
I felt guilty for putting him and the entire Stewarts through this. I dropped my hands from his body as I looked down at him and said, “If this is the way you see things, then you should give up Blaire. Let her know the truth. Let her real father get to know her.” That was the best way to untangle this web of misery.
But my idea only fueled his rage. He jumped to his feet and poked my chest with his right-hand index finger. “I will not allow that to happen!” he snarled. “I will never allow that dishonorable bastard, my archenemy, to take any more of what’s mine!”
I wanted to argue but he cursed again. “Fucking no! Even though I never loved Blaire the way I loved you, she is still my daughter on paper!” he cried out, exasperated.
This man seemed to be going insane in his rage. I dropped to my knees before him, giving way to tears. I wept as I held his two firm hands in mine. “Then… let me go instead, not Blaire. Leave her here and let her continue to be your daughter. If someone needs to go, it has to be me,” I begged him.
“NO!” he screamed and snatched his hands from me. He shook his head vigorously. “If someone needs to go, it’s Blaire! She has to go because I could never bear to look at her anymore. I couldn’t be reminded over and over how her mother cheated on me with her bastard biological father! She is not my daughter! She doesn’t deserve to be here with me!”
At that moment, I heard something behind the door–a loud gasp of shock. I gestured to my father to stop talking and to listen. He looked at me with curiosity. I placed my index finger on my lips, indicating that he should keep quiet. But he didn’t listen to me. Instead, he stormed toward the door angrily and yelled, “Who’s there?”
The next thing we heard rooted us to the spot. A familiar female voice yelped and started crying. Then a pair of feet ran away from the door.
He yanked the door open, and we stared wide-eyed at Blaire, standing there open-mouthed like a statue. We stared at each other in shock, lost on what to do next.
Shit!
Judging by the look on her face, I could tell that she’s heard everything our father said about her.