by Unknown
We stood there for the next five minutes. I was trying to process what he said. For years, I had waited for my old man to change. What had happened to him now? Was he dying? I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was and that was why he was doing this. I just found it so hard to believe that he would do this…just because he was…truly sorry.
I backed away from him, un-balled my fists and put them in my pockets.
“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you,” I said quietly. “But I only ask one thing from you now.”
He looked up at me…his eyes hopeful. “Anything, son.”
I took a deep breath. In a cold, sober voice I said, “Stay away from my wife!” My voice was low, but the venom and threat it carried was enough to make him stare back at me in surprise.
I raised a brow at him. He studied my expression for a moment and realized that I was dead serious. He took a deep breath and said, “No harm from me will come her way, I promise you that. In fact, I will do everything in my power to keep her safe…if she’s the only thing that will keep you sane…if she’s my only hope for your forgiveness.”
“I won’t let you use her!” I growled.
He smiled confidently, to my surprise. “I don’t have to. I am sure that with her by your side, you will learn to believe how truly sorry I am for everything that I did to you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why…why are you doing this?”
He sighed. “I…I have cancer, son.” He said. “I have…a few years ahead of me. I am working to fix my relationships…rectify all the damage that I have done. Starting with you. I stayed away from Brianne these years. I didn’t touch her no matter how important she was to you, and even though I know that getting to her would get through your thick skull the fastest…I let her be. I figured…I had been so tough, and our family had been so broken…you deserved something good in your life. Somebody who could still make you feel loved.”
“Do you think that makes me feel grateful? Or sympathetic toward you?” I asked, keeping my face stoic once again.
He stared at me thoughtfully. “I don’t expect anything from you. I know I don’t deserve it. But I hope you can…give me a chance. And when the time comes, make me a part of your…children’s lives.”
I raised a brow at him. “Brianne is…we can’t have kids,” I said bluntly. “And I’m okay with that. In a way, I find comfort in knowing that your genes need not be passed on. It stops with me.”
I don’t know if I imagined it. But I thought I saw sadness in the man’s eyes. Well, did he honestly think I could forgive him or trust him that easily? The damage he did to my soul was far too deep. If I didn’t have Brianne in my life, I would have been as soulless as he was.
He took a deep breath and stared at me with eyes so similar to mine. “I will accept your offer, only for one reason,” he said. “To turn this company around…back to its former glory. I will not leave it in ruins. And in the end, I will give it back to you. You are still my heir, Travis. You cannot change that. So when I go…you have to take this company…this is, after all, my legacy. And you can choose whatever you want to do with it. But it is yours, son…whether you like it or not.”
I stared back at him. I tried to assess whether he was serious. Whether he really was trying to change. Had his cancer changed him? Was he truly sorry for all the monstrous things he’d put me through in my life?
“What kind of cancer do you have?” I asked.
He took a deep breath. “Liver. But that’s the least of your concerns. I have the best medical team on my case. My main goal now…is to fix whatever damage I might leave behind once my treatments fail.”
“You mean you’re cleaning up your mess?”
He sighed and nodded. “Yes. And I’m starting with you.”
I gave him a hard look. Something inside my chest seemed to be tugging at me, poking me from inside… annoying me to no end. I didn’t want to feel anything for this man. He’d done nothing but hurt me and break me all my life. And I could not trust him.
I took a deep breath. “Good luck with that,” I muttered, and then I spun on my heel. Before I left, I turned back to him again. “And I mean it. I will stay out of your way from now on. Stay out of mine. And leave my wife out of the picture. You said she was the only one who kept my soul anchored to my body. You’re right. You won’t like me at all when she’s not in my life.” And I left.
I kept my silence all throughout the ride home. My emotions were raging inside me. I could still feel pain and anger. But now…something else was there. Something I couldn’t place or name. And I didn’t like that feeling at all…especially not for my old man, who was the cause of all my troubles…one of the reasons why Tom was taken away from Brianne and me.
When I reached home, I found Brianne standing on the balcony. She was holding a glass of juice, and she was looking out at the view, lost in her thoughts.
“Brianne,” I called her. She didn’t turn around as if she didn’t hear me at all. “Brianne!” I called a little louder.
She spun around, almost startled to hear me. “Travis.”
I assessed her expression. Did she look scared? Did her meeting with my father terrify her? Did he threaten her?
But she smiled, placed the glass on the table, and immediately hugged me. I breathed in the scent of her. Her touch warmed me every single time—no woman had ever done that to me.
Then she looked up at me, wearing a nervous expression on her face. I already knew what she was nervous about.
“Your father…came to the gallery,” she said. “He…spoke to me.”
I nodded. “What exactly did he say to you?”
She shrugged. “He just said it was lovely to finally meet me. He thanked me for always being there for you. And he gave me…this.” She pulled away from me, pointing at the box that was sitting on the table.
It was a large wooden box. She opened it to show me its contents. I’d already known what that was. It was a whole set of diamond and sapphire jewelry that had been in my father’s family for at least four generations, passed on to the women their men chose to marry. The last person who’d worn it was my grandmother…the mother of my father. I’d always wondered why my father never gave it to my mom. But I guessed they hadn’t stay married long enough for my mother to get her chance to wear the Cross family heirlooms. This had to stay inside the family no matter what.
So my father didn’t think my mother deserved this treasure…but Brianne did? I knew she did, but it was a big step coming from my old man.
I smiled at Brianne. But she knew me better now. I knew the questions that she would soon ask.
“The Cross family heirloom,” I said, “has been passed on to the brides of the Cross family for generations. My grandmother wore it last. It skipped my mother. But now…I think it’s my father’s way of telling you that you’re worthy of being the keeper of this treasure now.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. And for the life of me, I couldn’t believe it either, but I felt like crying, too. I closed my eyes and slowly tried to process these new emotions sweeping through me.
My father broke me in unimaginable ways. He’d taken my childhood away from me; he’d never shown me an ounce of respect or love. But now, he was starting to fix things between the two of us. I promised Brianne we would leave all of it behind. Could I really accept him and give him a chance? Could I really forgive him for the numerous ways he’d tried to take my life away from me?
Brianne reached up and touched her lips to mine. I leaned my forehead against hers. When I pulled back and stared into her teary eyes, I saw love, faith, encouragement…hope.
And I realized…I knew what I needed to do.
Epilogue
My hands were shaking. I didn’t really realize how nervous I’d been until now. My heart was pounding inside my chest. And the pain I felt was nothing like I’d felt before.
I can do this. I can’t do this. No! I can do this!
Pain slowly built up in my
abdomen again, and I knew that from there, it could only get worse. I closed my eyes and tried not to scream.
“Let’s check again,” I heard a female’s voice say, and I didn’t even know who she was speaking with. Then I felt something down there. A finger, a hand, I don’t know. And then an unexplainable pain.
“Son of a gun!” I shouted, and I crushed the fingers I was holding. I could only imagine the pain I was inflicting on that person right now, and I was beyond caring. I would do anything to share even half of my agony.
Instead of cursing or writhing in pain, I felt the person beside me lean forward to give me a kiss on the forehead.
“I love you, cherie,” I heard Travis’s familiar voice in my ear.
I looked up at him, and I saw tears shining in his eyes. I saw love. He gave me an encouraging smile. I knew that he felt my pain. And he would do anything to share it with me, too, if that was possible at all.
“Not yet,” the nurse said, after checking me. “A couple more minutes.”
I squeezed Travis’s hand. “Where’s Anthony?” In spite of my pain, I couldn’t help worrying about our little boy.
“He’s with his grandfather,” he replied. “He couldn’t stop crying—he was worrying about you. Dad had to take him to the toy shop.”
I smiled at that. Travis’s father spoiled his grandchild. It warmed my heart to think about the memories of the past few months. Maybe remembering all those wonderful things would take my mind off the constant pain I felt in all parts of my body.
Anthony came into our lives just over a year ago. He was the cutest three-year-old, with dark blond hair and beautiful gray eyes. We found him in an orphanage. Both his parents had died in a car crash, and they left him with nothing, not even guardians who would be willing to take care of him. The minute I laid eyes on him, my heart swelled, and for the first time, I felt those motherly instincts kick in. I felt this need to take care of him…protect him and nurture him. When I looked at Travis, I knew he immediately understood what I was feeling.
He did all we could so we could bring Anthony home. He was ours the very first moment we saw him. Having him in our lives made Travis realize what a father-son relationship really meant.
Travis gave up his shares of his father’s company and finally ended the battle between them. Before that, his father found out he has liver cancer and might not last long without a transplant.
Travis’s father didn’t have many friends or relatives. He was at the hospital with only his bodyguards for company. When I showed up at his hospital suite one day, he was surprised at first. He found it hard to believe that I would even bother to visit him. But after we got past the awkwardness, he started appreciating having another person in the room who wasn’t on his payroll.
I didn’t tell Travis that I was visiting his father. But I knew that he knew. We’d been married for almost two years, and he still hadn’t stopped making it his business to keep me safe, twenty-four seven. He knew where I’d been going in the afternoons when I was not at home painting, or at the studio dancing, or at my mother’s gallery helping out. I’d been making his old man feel that in spite of the things he’d done in his life, he still had family.
“Thank you, Brianne,” Mr. Cross whispered. “My son is very lucky to have you.”
I smiled at him and gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m sure forgiveness will come for you someday.”
He smiled weakly. “I’m getting worse. And not on the priority list for a transplant. We both know I might not even live long enough to see that day happen.”
Just then the door opened, and I was startled to see Travis enter the room. He gave his father a hard look. Then he handed his nurse a piece of paper. The nurse passed the paper to his father. His father read it, and then he looked up at Travis with a wild expression on his face, his eyes almost teary.
Travis took a deep breath. “I’m not going to do it for you…I’m going to do it for her,” he said, pointing at me. Then he turned to me. “I’ll wait for you outside.” Then he left.
His father was speechless. Then tears rolled down his cheeks. He handed me the piece of paper that Travis had given him. My heart caught in my throat. Just as I suspected, it was his compatibility test for liver donation. Travis was his father’s perfect match. He was going to donate a part of himself to extend his father’s life and give him a fighting chance.
I smiled at my father-in-law. He smiled back at me in spite of his tears. “I will forever owe you my life, Brianne,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
I shook my head. “When you get through all this, please promise me you will do all that you can to fix your relationship with him. The fact that he’s doing this…it means he’s already forgiven you.”
The old man nodded and reached out to give my hand a squeeze.
Travis was leaning against the wall beside the door of his father’s room. He was looking down at the floor, his face cold and serious.
I reached out for his hand. He looked at me. “I have to do it, Brianne,” he said. “I’m the only chance he has.”
I nodded. Tears streamed down my cheeks. “I understand.”
“I just want to do it. Then we’ll move on. I don’t want the burden of my relationship with him to be in the way of me giving myself to you and to Anthony completely.”
I reached out and hugged him. “I know. I just want you to promise one thing to me.”
He gave me a squeeze. “Anything, love.”
I took a deep breath. “Just come back to us, alive and well.”
I felt him smile through my hair. “I promise,” he whispered.
After a week, we were back in the hospital for the operation. I was scared as hell. I almost asked Travis to change his mind about what he was going to do. But I knew he would fight for us. I knew he would wake up and he would recover well. I wouldn’t accept any other possibility or ending.
Just before they brought him to the operating room, he smiled at me. “I will see you in a while,” he said.
“You’d better,” I said, tears rolling down my cheeks. I hugged him.
“Daddy, can we play ball?” Anthony asked, peering up at his father’s bed.
Travis smiled at him. “Sure. Daddy just needs to do something for Grandpa. And then we’ll play ball.”
The child’s eyes brightened. “Can grandpa play with us, too?”
It took a while for Travis to respond. Then he nodded. “Sure, kiddo. I’ll make sure he will be able to.”
I wiped the tears that were rolling down my cheeks. I didn’t want my son to see or feel how worried or scared I was.
Travis stared at me. He smiled and pulled me to him. “Don’t cry. I’m tougher than you give me credit for,” he teased.
I giggled. “You better make sure of that, because I don’t want to go nursery shopping alone in a few months.”
He immediately pulled away from me and looked into my eyes. “You want to adopt again?” he asked. Then his eyes went to Anthony, who was now happily playing with his toy train on the couch. “He would make a good big brother. Maybe we could get a girl this time.”
I smiled up at him. “Yes he would. But no, we’re not adopting.”
He looked at me questioningly. I sighed and reached for something in my bag. It was a plastic pen-type stick with a small window in the middle. The window showed something that could not be mistaken for something else—a clear blue plus sign.
“Looks like those fertility treatments were working just fine after all,” I whispered to him.
It took him a moment to recover. He was just staring at the plastic stick in my hand. When he finally looked at me, his eyes were shining with tears again. He pulled me to him and crushed his lips to mine. Then he leaned his forehead against mine.
“I love you, Brianne,” he said. “As if I needed one more reason to fight for my life. You and Anthony were enough. But now…this. I love you, Mrs. Cross. I love you so damn much! You always have a way of making things perfect for me whe
n I thought they already were.”
I giggled against his lips. “So do you.”
After that operation, Travis recovered at record speed. His father’s body accepted his liver quite well. Now…his father is cancer-free, and trying his best to make amends with his son, starting with his grandchild. He never saw Anthony as being adopted. He was very good to him the moment I introduced them to each other.
Travis didn’t travel for business all throughout the duration of my pregnancy. He was always there, conducting most of his businesses from home. He shared as much of the burden of the pregnancy as he could. It was hard enough to carry one baby—just imagine carrying two.
A sharp pain in my abdomen took me back to reality, stopping me from reminiscing about the past few months of my perfect life with the man who made me the happiest.
The doctor checked me again, and I cursed at her for like the hundredth time.
She smiled. “It’s time.”
Travis gave me another kiss on the lips. He held my hand in his. “I’m right here, love. I won’t leave you. We can do this.”
A few short breaths, a loud wail, a thousand curses, a dozen unsuccessful attempts to push, and then the doctor said, “Give it your best, sweetheart, and it will all be over soon.”
It was my choice to go for natural childbirth. Travis was not so much a fan of it. He wanted it to be as painless as possible for me. But right now, hell! I couldn’t remember why I’d opted for this in the first place!
I took one long breath, and then I screamed at the top of my lungs, “Son of a…” I wasn’t able to continue that curse. I heard a cry that seemed like music to my ears. I looked up at Travis, and his eyes were transfixed on something in front of me, as if he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world.
“Here’s your baby boy,” somebody said, and they showed Travis something wrapped in a blue blanket. Everything was still hazy, I was still drugged with the pain. And the contractions in my abdomen didn’t even feel slightly less painful.