“Thank you.” I turned to my Father. “We need to talk.”
“It looks like we do, son.”
He strolled across the hallway and down a wide corridor toward the office, his shoes tapping on the polished marble floor. I used to ride a bike down that corridor some twenty years ago, marking the white marble whenever I braked too hard.
Dad pushed the door to his office open, standing aside to let me in first. A small coffee table in between the two sofas was overflowing with files and folders. To the left, behind his old-fashioned mahogany desk stood a row of floor to ceiling high bookcases filled with law books.
I plopped down on the Chesterfield sofa by the floor to ceiling high French window that overlooked the garden.
My father sat opposite from me, his lips sealed, but eyes calculating.
“Do go on,” he urged, impatient.
“I know what you think about me and Nadia getting back together.”
“Do you?” He crossed his legs. “And what would that be?”
“I have your teachings etched into my brain, Dad. I know you’re not a fan of second chances, but…”
He chuckled, stopping me mid-sentence. “I’m not, but this is your life we’re talking about. Your choices.”
Annabel, the house maid, knocked on the door, then entered the room. Her lips curled into an affectionate smile.
“Coffee,” she explained, raising the tray up a little. “You should visit more often. I had trouble remembering how you like your coffee.”
“Black, no sugar. I’m sweet enough.”
“That I can believe.” She put the tray down and backed out of the office, shutting the door closed.
My father sighed, raising his eyes to the celling. “I won’t try to change your mind. There must be something extraordinary in that girl for you to fall for her in the first place. Ever since Adam died, I thought you were never going to settle down.”
I cocked an eyebrow, not understanding where this was coming from. Granted, I steered clear of relationships, but my lifestyle wasn’t something I bragged about to my parents.
“You think I don’t know what you did for the past three years? Please, who do you have me for?”
A fool, apparently.
“That’s in the past now,” I said, fidgeting.
There was nothing more mortifying than talking to your parents about your sex life.
Kill me now.
“Did Nadia at least explain why she left?” he asked.
I bobbed my head, my hands balling into fists at the reminder.
“It’s complicated.”
“Yes, I figured that much.” He put two spoons of sugar into his coffee. “If you tell me you trust her not to disappoint you again, I’ll believe you. I trust your judgement, Thomas.”
“She won’t make the same mistake again. Can I count on you not to make her feel unwanted around here?”
Nadia was nervous about meeting my parents, and my father acting cold and distant wouldn’t make things easier. This time next year, she was supposed to come here as my wife, so my father had little time to rid the grudge.
“Of course, you can. Not just because she’s the first girl you brought home, and I can imagine how important she is to you, but also because your mother would most likely divorce me if I tried to get in your way.”
“She’s the first and the last, Dad.”