Chapter 12: The Letter My Father Never Wanted Me To Read
I held the envelope for almost a minute.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody interrupted.
It felt like the entire room was waiting for me to open it.
Except my father.
He looked like he was hoping I never would.
"Why did you write this?""
I asked.
My father didn't answer.
"Why did you write a letter with my name on it and then tell me not to read it?""
He looked down.
"Because I was afraid.""
"Of what?""
He swallowed.
"Of losing you.""
The answer hurt.
Because I wanted to believe him.
I wanted my father to be the man I remembered.
Not another person hiding things from me.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a single page.
My father's handwriting.
Again.
"Marcus,
If you are reading this, then the truth has already reached you.""
I continued.
"My biggest regret is not losing my company. It is losing the years I should have spent with you.""
My vision blurred.
I stopped for a second.
Then continued.
"I need you to understand something. The people around you are not divided into good and bad. Some people made terrible choices because they were afraid.""
I looked at Vanessa.
She looked down.
"Your mother protected me because I asked her to. Vanessa's mother helped me because she wanted to fix what she had done. Daniel helped me disappear because he believed it was the only way.""
I looked up.
My father watched me.
"Then who betrayed you?""
My father closed his eyes.
The letter continued.
"The person who betrayed me was someone who knew me better than anyone.""
I read the next line.
"My own son.""
The paper almost fell from my hand.
"What?""
Everyone froze.
My father stood.
"Marcus...""
"No.""
I stared at the letter.
"You wrote that.""
"I did.""
"You said your own son betrayed you.""
My father's face changed.
"Not you.""
I looked back at the page.
The sentence continued.
"I wrote this because if anyone tried to use my son's name, you would know it was a lie.""
I exhaled.
The relief came and disappeared immediately.
Because the mystery remained.
Who was the son?
Robert suddenly laughed.
"Still protecting him.""
My father looked at him.
"Enough.""
Robert stepped closer.
"Tell him.""
My father didn't move.
"Tell him what?""
Robert looked at me.
"Your father had another son.""
The words hit harder than anything before.
I stared.
"What?""
My father looked away.
My mother started crying.
"No...""
I looked at them.
"You knew?""
My mother whispered:
"I knew there was someone.""
Someone.
Not who.
Not where.
Someone.
My father finally spoke.
"Before I met your mother, I had a son.""
The room spun.
"How old?""
"Older than you.""
I couldn't process it.
"Where is he?""
Nobody answered.
Then Daniel quietly said:
"He's the reason your father disappeared.""
My father's face tightened.
"He was manipulated.""
Robert smiled.
"Still defending him.""
I turned toward Robert.
"Who is he?""
Robert reached into his pocket.
He pulled out a photograph.
A young man.
Standing beside my father.
I looked at the face.
And my blood turned cold.
Because I knew him.
I had seen him before.
At my father's funeral.
At family events.
At my company.
My entire life.
Robert whispered:
"Marcus, meet your half-brother.""
My fingers went numb.
The photograph slipped.
Because the man staring back at me was not a stranger.
It was my closest friend.
The person I had trusted with every secret.
The person who helped me build my career.
The person who had stood beside me at my wedding.
Robert said quietly:
"Your best man wasn't there to celebrate your marriage.""
May you like
A pause.
"He was there to finish what your father survived.""
