Chapter 129: The restaurant

Casey’s POV

We walked out of the Sterling building together. For the first few steps, neither of us said anything. I was aware of everything. The sound of our shoes against the pavement. The traffic moving along the street. The people passing us without giving us a second glance and Alexander walking beside me.

My father.

I still couldn't say it without feeling strange not because it wasn't true because the DNA had settled that but because a word that should have belonged to me from birth had suddenly appeared in my life at twenty-two.

Alexander looked at me. "You don't have to stay if this is too much."

"I know." I replied.

"We can go somewhere quiet instead."

"I thought you said there was a restaurant."

"There is."

"Then let's go."

He smiled. "All right."

We continued walking and after a few moments, he said, "Do you like Italian food?"

"I do."

"Good." He smiled. "Your mother loves Italian food."

I looked at him and he stopped immediately. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I don't want to keep telling you things about her as though you already know her."

I shook my head. "You can."

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes."

He nodded. "She orders far too much."

I smiled. "How much is too much?"

"For her?" He laughed softly. "Enough to feed six people."

"Maybe she just likes leftovers."

"She doesn't eat leftovers."

I laughed. "I think I might like her."

His smile became softer. "I think you might."

We reached the restaurant. It wasn't overly formal. It was warm and quiet, with tables tucked into corners and large windows looking out over the street.

Alexander held the door open for me.

"Thank you."

He nodded.

The hostess approached. "Table for two?"

"Yes."

She led us toward a table near the window and I sat down and Alexander took the chair opposite me. For a few seconds, we simply looked at each other. It was strange. He looked nervous. The man who ran one of the biggest companies I'd ever heard of looked nervous sitting across from me because I was his daughter.

"I don't know what you're supposed to call me." I said it before I could stop myself.

His expression softened. "You can call me Alexander."

I nodded. "Okay."

"If someday you want to call me Dad..." He swallowed. "...I'll probably cry."

A small laugh escaped me. "You probably will."

"I definitely will."

The smile stayed on my face for a moment before fading. "Do you mind if I ask you questions?"

"I've been hoping you would."

"What is my mother like?" I asked.

His eyes immediately softened. "Victoria?" I nodded. "She is stubborn."

I smiled. "Really?"

"Very."

"That's unfortunate."

He laughed. "You inherited it."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're saying that after knowing me for less than an hour?"

"I've known you for twenty-two years."

I frowned. "You haven't."

"I've known the idea of you." His voice became quieter. "And now I'm learning the person." That silenced me.

The waiter came over, giving us a moment to look at the menus and when he left, I asked, "Did you really believe I was dead?"

Alexander nodded. "Yes."

"How?"

His fingers tightened around the edge of the menu. "We were told you died." He looked down. "We believed it."

"Did you..." I struggled. "Did you have a funeral?"

He nodded slowly. "There was a service."

My chest tightened. "You buried a baby thinking it was me?"

His eyes filled. "Yes."

I looked away the thought was almost unbearable. "That's horrible."

"It was." He took a breath. "But it was twenty-two years ago." He looked at me. "And now you're sitting here." A tear slipped down his cheek and he wiped it away. "I keep thinking if I blink, you'll disappear."

I didn't know what to say so I reached across the table and my fingers touched his hand. He froze and I almost pulled away but then his fingers closed gently around mine. He didn't squeeze too hard he simply held on.

His eyes dropped to our joined hands and then he looked back at me. "I've wanted to do that for a very long time."

My throat tightened. "Hold my hand?"

"Yes." He smiled through his tears. "I've imagined holding a little girl's hand more times than I can count."

I looked down. "I'm not little anymore."

"No." His smile trembled. "But you're still my little girl."

The words should have felt strange but instead, they hurt in a way I couldn't explain. I looked away before he could see the tears gathering in my eyes. "Can I ask something else?"

"Anything."

"Why did you never find me?"

He looked at me for a long moment. "Because we didn't know there was anything to find."

I nodded. "I know."

"We believed you were gone." His voice broke. "And by the time Michael began questioning the records, we had no reason to imagine the truth could be this."

I stared at Alexander. “Do you blame yourselves?”

He looked down for a moment before answering, and when he finally did, his voice was quiet. “Every day.”

I shook my head. “You shouldn't.” He looked at me, almost surprised. “I don't even know why I'm saying that, but I don't think you should.”

Alexander's eyes softened, but I continued before he could respond.

“You didn't know I was alive. You thought I was dead, so how could you have searched for someone you believed was gone?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes filling with tears. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

I looked at him. “For what?”

“For understanding that. After all these years, I don't think you realize how much it means to hear you say it.”

I gave him a faint smile. “I spent twenty-two years believing my parents were dead. I know what it's like to grow up believing you've lost the people who were supposed to be there.”

His expression changed at my words, and for a moment he simply looked at me. Then, more carefully, he asked, “How was your childhood?”

I went still. There was something in his voice, something like fear. I could tell he already suspected the answer might hurt. I looked down at the table. "Complicated."

He didn't push, and somehow that made it easier for me to look at him.

“I knew I was adopted.”

Alexander nodded slowly. “I was told you had died. And I believed it.” His jaw tightened as though even saying the words still hurt.

“I know,” I whispered.

“I never searched for you.”

I swallowed hard. “You didn't have to. I thought…” My voice faltered. “I thought maybe you wouldn't have wanted me anyway.”

His face crumpled. “Casey.”

I looked up at him. “That's what I believed.”

Alexander reached for my hand and squeezed it gently. “I wish I could take that belief away from you. I wish I could go back and tell the little girl you were that she was wanted.”

A tear slipped down my cheek. “I know.”

His eyes filled again. “I wish I could have been there.”

“I know.”

His voice broke when he finally said, “I am so sorry.”

I shook my head. “You don't have to apologize for something you didn't do.”

He looked at me, pain written across his face. “But I wasn't there.”

“Neither was my mother.”

Alexander swallowed hard. “She'll want to explain.”

“I know.”

“She'll probably cry.”

Despite everything, a small smile touched my lips. “I think I'll cry too.”

A tiny smile appeared on his face. “She may not stop.”

I let out a quiet laugh through my tears. “Then we'll both cry.”

He smiled and for the first time, the silence between us wasn't uncomfortable. It was almost peaceful then his phone vibrated. He looked at the screen and I watched his expression change. He looked at me.

“What?”

Alexander glanced toward the door. “That's Victoria.”

My heart immediately began racing. “She knows I'm here?”

“She knows you came to the building.” He hesitated before adding, “I didn't call her. She saw me leave.”

I nodded slowly, looking down at our joined hands. “She's probably wondering where you are.”

Alexander's thumb moved gently across the back of my hand before he looked at me. “Casey, would you be comfortable if I asked her to come here?”

My heart began pounding harder. “Now?”

“Only if you want her here. We don't have to do it yet.”

I stared at him, suddenly realizing that the moment I'd been imagining was no longer somewhere in the future. My mother was just outside, waiting to know whether I was ready to meet her.

This was the woman I'd spent twenty-two years believing was dead. My mother and she was alive. Somewhere nearby waiting and I wasn't ready but I wasn't sure I would ever feel ready.

“Will she be alone?”

“Yes. She'll come by herself.”

I hesitated before asking, “Do you think she'll be upset?”

Alexander gave me a small, almost apologetic smile. “Probably.”

I smiled nervously. “That's not exactly reassuring.”

A quiet laugh escaped him. “No, I suppose it isn't. But she won't pressure you, Casey. I promise you that.”

I nodded slowly. “I know.”

He reached for his phone, but before he could unlock it, he stopped and looked at me. “You can still say no.”

I met his eyes. For a moment, I could feel the fear building inside me, telling me that I wasn't ready, that this was happening too quickly, that I should wait but another part of me knew I didn't want to keep waiting. “No,” I said softly.

Alexander waited. I drew in a deep breath and forced myself to meet his eyes. “Call her.”

His eyes immediately filled with tears. He nodded once. “Okay.”

He dialed Victoria's number, and I could hear the phone ringing between us. Once, twice, three times, before someone finally answered.

“Alexander?” The sound of Victoria's voice made something inside me shift.

I couldn't explain it. I had never heard her speak to me before, yet somehow hearing her voice made the reality of everything that had happened feel even more real.

Alexander looked at me, his own eyes wet. “She's here.”

There was a pause while he listened, and his expression softened. “Yes,” he said quietly. “She's sitting right in front of me.”

My heart was pounding so hard that I could feel it in my throat. I lowered my eyes to my hands while Alexander listened to whatever Victoria was saying on the other end.

Then a small smile appeared on his face. “Yes, Victoria.” His voice cracked slightly. “She agreed.” He ended the call and lowered the phone.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke. Then Alexander reached across the table and took both of my hands in his.

“She's coming.”

I nodded, my throat too tight for anything more at first. “I know.”

He searched my face. “Are you scared?”

I let out a shaky breath and gave him a nervous smile. “Terrified.”

He smiled through his tears. “Me too.”

I looked toward the restaurant entrance and in a few minutes, the woman I'd spent my entire life believing was dead would walk through those doors and this time, I wouldn't be meeting her as a stranger. I would be meeting her as her daughter.

I took a shaky breath.

Alexander squeezed my hands. "You don't have to say anything when she arrives."

I looked at him, my nerves tightening again. “What if I cry?”

Alexander gave me a gentle smile. “Then you cry. You don't have to hold anything back.”

I swallowed. “And what if she cries?”

His expression softened. “Then we'll cry together.”

I smiled through the tears already gathering in my eyes and for the first time, I realized something. I had spent twenty-two years believing I'd lost my parents before I'd ever had the chance to know them.

Now I was sitting across from my father and my mother was on her way. For the first time in my life, I wasn't waiting for a goodbye I was waiting for a beginning.