14
I contacted Julian, wanting to bring this whole affair to a definitive end. In the highly private VIP room of an exclusive club, I met
him and Liam. Julian, impeccably dressed in a fine suit, his hair perfectly styled, looked radiant and vibrant. I sat down, getting stra-
ight to the point. “Julian Vance, I’ve made it perfectly clear: do not disturb me.”
Before he could speak, Liam cut in. “Mom, this…. this isn’t Daddy’s fault.” He paused, then continued, “It was my idea. Daddy was
diagnosed with stomach cancer when he was hospitalized last time. He never wanted to tell you.”
He didn’t want to tell me, yet someone with inside knowledge posted it online. He didn’t want to tell me, yet he used Liam’s mouth
to say it. Always portraying himself as innocent. It was sickening. I had no intention of wasting more breath on them.
*Julian Vance, I will not remarry you. And I will not acknowledge Liam.” My voice hardened. “The pain you inflicted upon me, I do not
forgive. I will never forgive!”
Liam rose from his chair, walking to my side and kneeling. “Mom-”
“Don’t call me Mom! I told you I won’t acknowledge you!”
Liam struggled, then quietly said, “Okay, Professor Martin.” He looked up at me, his eyes pleading. “I don’t want Daddy to leave with
regrets.” He gestured to Julian. “All these years, he’s lived in constant remorse. He’s been surrounded by so many women, yet he
never once fell for any of them. I know it was all for you.” Liam’s voice grew soft. “He’d go to the cemetery to talk to you whenever he had time, often staying very late. You burned all the photos at home, so Daddy commissioned an artist to paint you as he rem-
embered you.” Liam swallowed, his voice breaking. “He truly wants to make amends.”
Julian concurred, pulling out a painting. “Cassidy, look, does it resemble you?” The woman in the portrait lay in a glass conservato- ry, basking in the sun in a rocking chair. But her eyes were clouded with deep sorrow.
I chuckled coldly. “Julian Vance, look. The me in your memory is always unhappy.” My gaze hardened. “Do you truly believe that what you’re doing is making amends, and not just hurting me all over again?”
Liam suddenly stood up. “No, that’s not true.” He insisted, his voice rising, “Daddy and I truly only want to make amends. When a person is on their deathbed, their words are good. Why can’t you, just for this once, forgive us?” He gestured around the luxurious room. “Isn’t a family life good? Why do you want to be alone?”
I felt so weary. They claimed to be making amends, yet they never bothered to consider my true feelings. “I’d rather be alone than have any further connection with you.” I paused. “And,” I said, calling Liam by his name, “you are not my son. You have no right to
my forgiveness.”
As I spoke those words, I watched Julian’s reaction. His expression was fascinating. Horror, disbelief, and despair intertwined. After
a long moment, he finally spoke to Liam. “Liam, let’s go.”
