Chapter 183 The journals -Benedict POV
I don't know why I felt like I needed to get away with the diaries I found in Samuel's bedroom. Maybe it was a line that I read in it that felt this was deeply personal regarding my family. I know I don't want Caroline to know about them, maybe I will get a better insight of how Ben's mind worked, and why he ended up doing what he did since I was never there.
Why I felt the need to get on a plane all the way to the West Coast is obvious.
Valentina is there, and being close to her has reminded me of the man I once was. The good man, despite beng raised by people who didn't care of the type of human I became. All they cared about was success, and the name of this family becoming more powerful.
When I looked at her, I saw that young girl who struggled to speak English, who was so innocent she believed she would come to this country and land a modeling gig and become successful. I remember her laughs, so unrestricted and carefree and without any pretense.
That girl wanted me because she thought I loved her for her. She didn't look at me and saw a Cargill. She saw Benedict, and maybe that's why I'm standing on the threshold of her door with a suitcase filled of journals of my dead butler.
Valentina looks surprised when she opens the door and sees me there. "Benedict, you are back."
Without preamble, without any hesitation, she immediately steps into me and hugs me. I didn't know how much I needed that hug until now. I'm the patriarch, I always have to be the one in charge, and the one that is supposed to know what to do. There is no room for me to be weak and show weakness.
"You are good?" She asks and waves her hand for me to go inside the house.
I didn't even need to ask. Has she forgiven me for what I've done? For letting her stay in that godawful psychiatric institution for that many years? It seems like the only person who though she wasn't crazy was Miguel. Would he ever forgive me for doing that to his mother, even though I thought I was doing the right thing at the time?
"I'm so sorry to barge in like this." I clear my throat. "I was checking out Samuel's closet and found all these journals with entries of his life in the house, I just gathered them all and went to the airport."
"Journal?" Valentina pulls her face.
"A diary. You write down what is happeneing in your life."
"Oh." She smiles softly, before her eyes harden. "You don't want Caroline to see?"
How did she know? If Caroline knew those journals were there, she probably woud've taken fhem beofre I knew of their existence.
"You want coffee? Good, Columbian ones." Valentina winks playfully. She used to make me Columbian coffee, always splurging her meager salary on the good stuff as she would say.
"Please."
'I also bake cookies, chocolate chip."
I follow her to the kitchem where the aroma of cookies and coffee meets me. Again, an atmosphere I never had growing up. The problem is, I didn't even give it to my kids either. And the worst, I took it away from Miguel, forcing him into that loveless life because my father said so.
I was never my own man, and my children had to bear the consequences.
"Have you heard anything from the wellness retreat?" I want to know when I sit down at the kitchen table. "Has Miguel not requested a visit with either of us?"
"No visit." Valentina says sadly. "And Madison always calling my phone. What I should say?" So I don't pick up."
"Maybe she's worried?" I frown, still struggling to fathom the idea of them being together. Maybe if I saw it with my own two eyes it would become more believable.
"Raul called, said she decorating their house. She is waiting for him to come back." There's sadness in Valentina's voice, from the experience of also waiting for the man she loved. I once told her to wait for me, and I ended up marrying a socialite and getting her pregnant when I already had the love of my life and a child.
How can I even begin to mend that? Would Valentina even give me a chance?
"Did you ever love someone else?" I blurt out, when I know I have no right to ask that question.
She smiles, the sadness creeping around the edges of her eyes. "Never."
I exhale, not knowing that I needed to hear her say that. "Me neither."
I don't ay anything else, because I know that I'm crossing the line. I am the only one that is wrong in this scenario, and she doesn't deserve to be asked these questions.
I go to the room after we finish drinking our coffee in silence, and I open the suitcase on the bed with the journals. There are seventeen of them in total, I counted when I loaded it into the suitcase. Ben was still a baby when Samuel came to work for us so there are twenty-five years' worth of life in those journals.
I pick up a random one open to the firts page.
September 2003
Benedict is so busy all the time, he's going to burn out. I'm taking care of him, though. I make sure that he gets his vitamins every day, and that he eats nutritious food. He's still strong though, even though he is not sleeping enough. I got to touch his chest tonight. He asked me if his shirt was wrinkled. It wasn't, but I ran my hands across his chest because I might not get a chnace to do it again soon. He doesn't see me, not the way I want him to.
The journal falls out of my hands.
What the hell was that? Why would touching me be such a thing for him? He used to touch me all the time, checking if my clothes fitted properly. Hell, he probably touched me more than Caroline ever did.
I read further, but it's about mundane tasks around the house and him managing the rest of the staff. Then an entry leaves me even more confused, wondering if I knew Samuel at all.
November 2003
I know he doesn't want Caroline. He can't stand to touch her. She's beautiful too, in that overly groomed way, but he doesn't care for her. Would he notice me? Does he know how many times I have to jerk off becase he sets me on fire? Would he ever give me a chance? Today he said I was the best thing that has happened in his life in a long time. I think Benedict loves me as much as I love him.
Fuck. Was Samuel in love with me?