Chapter 16: Chapter Fifteen

Eros

I was so angry that I wanted to punch something, but I controlled myself by clenching my fists and shoving them into my pockets. I could go to the gym to work out my anger, but for now, I needed to hear the nonsense he was about to feed me because this would be the last time I ever spoke to him.

I let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Living in the past? That’s rich, coming from the guy who barely even noticed Mom when she was alive. You didn’t care about the past, Dad. You just ignored it. And now you want to ignore everything else, too.” I spat, my voice venomous, sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room.

Leonardo stood, his chair scraping the floor as he mirrored my stance. “I know I made mistakes, but I loved your mother. I grieved her, Eros, just like you did.”

“Seriously? You loved her?” I stared at him, disbelief flooding my veins. I couldn’t believe it, and the anger surged again. “You didn’t love her. You loved control. You loved keeping everything on your terms. And now you’re doing it again, dragging me into another mess without even considering how I feel about it.” I struggled to keep my voice steady.

Leonardo’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t a mess. Vivienne and I are getting married. That’s final. I’m not asking for your permission, Eros. I’m informing you because I thought you deserved to know.”

I shook my head, a hollow laugh escaping me. “Deserved to know? Wow, thanks, Dad. What an honor. Too bad you didn’t think I deserved a father who actually cared about anything other than his career.” My words dripped with sarcasm.

Leonardo’s face softened for a moment, his shoulders dropping as if the weight of my words had finally struck him. “Eros,” he began, his tone quieter now, “I know things haven’t been perfect between us. I know I’ve failed you in a lot of ways. But this... this is something I need to do. For me.”

“For you,” I repeated, my voice laced with bitterness. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?” I turned away, not wanting to look at him any longer. Being near him hurt too much.

Leonardo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m trying, Eros. I’m trying to make things better. But you need to meet me halfway,” he pleaded.

I stopped at the doorway, my back turned to him. “You don’t get to decide when things get better, Dad. You don’t get to rewrite the past and pretend everything’s fine. Not with me.” I retorted.

I hesitated for a moment, my breath uneven. I glanced back over my shoulder, my voice quieter but still cutting. “You say you loved Mom, but do you even remember her laugh? The way she used to hum while cooking? Or is she just... a distant memory now, something you’ve already buried?”

Leonardo winced at my words, his hand tightening around the edge of the table. “Of course, I remember,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I think about her every day.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re trying to erase her?” I shot back, my voice breaking. I shook my head and walked away, leaving the room. 

Leonardo stayed at the table, staring at his untouched plate. The ticking clock filled the silence, a haunting reminder of the time they couldn’t get back. He sat down, the weight of the conversation settling over him like a fog. For the first time in years, he wondered if there was any way to bridge the gap between them—or if it had already grown too wide.

I walked down the hallway, opened the door leading to the garden, and stepped outside, shutting the door softly behind me. I stood on the terrace, my gaze fixed on the statue of my mother. And as I gazed at it, tears welled up in my eyes as a memory flashed through my mind—my little sister and my mother playing in the rain right here in this very garden.

She had wanted me to join them, but I'd been too proud. I’d claimed to be too old for such childish things, and my mother had laughed at me. Now, I wished more than anything that I could go back to that day. I would be the one to invite them into the rain, to dance with them, to be carefree and silly.

It was a moment I could never reclaim, a regret I could never forgive myself for. A tear slid down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away. With a deep breath, I descended the short steps and walked away, needing the solitude of a long walk to clear my mind.