Page 183 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I

“Why are my questions so damn hard to answer? When are you going to stand up to her, Chris? Be a man? Be a goddamn father?”

My father’s mouth trembles as if he's struggling release whatever thoughts that are turning in his head.

Come, Dad. You can say it.

Old, familiar lines are threatening to make a comeback on his face. If I say anything, it’ll take the pressure off him. And I don’t want the pressure off. I need him to speak up.

Smith, the lanky waiter with the dark hair, stops at the edge of our table. His presence cuts into the tension between us.

“How are you, Hercules?” he asks with a bow.

“I’m fine,” I reply, not smiling.

“What can I get you tonight?”

“I’ll have the usual,” I say.

Chris, who hasn’t picked up his menu, keeps his eyes trained on me as we wait for him to order.

Finally, my father sighs and turns to Smith. “Can you give us a few minutes alone?”

Smith hinges back a little. He’s probably as surprised as I am that my father chose to order us some time alone instead of a steak.

“Absolutely.” Smith bows graciously then walks away.

The longer I stare at my father, the more he reminds me of the version of the man I remembered.

“I don’t eat meat,” he finally says. “But I came to see you.”

My head is light, like it’s floating away from my body. I might be crazy, but I think I’m making progress. “There are other items on the menu.” I have a feeling food wasn’t the point of his last comment.

Chris shakes his head. “I only wanted to see you, son. Sit with you. Just you and me.”

“That’s what we’re doing.”

“But…” He sighs wearily. “We’re never going to get a place of mutual respect. And I love you. Always had. Always will. You are…” He gazes off to the left then turns back with tears in his eyes. “When you were born, you lit me up.”

He’s emotional, and that surprises me. I want to look away from him, but I don’t. I need to read him closely and see several levels beneath his surface. Even though he’s wearing his heart on his thin cotton shirt, he still hasn’t answered my questions.

“My real name Christopher Ray Bradley,” he says.

I wait for the rest, but the way he’s looking at me says he just revealed more than I bargained for.

“Christopher Ray Bradley?” I repeat as my brain fights against what I’m thinking he’s just revealed.

“I’m not a Valentine.” When he sighs this time, it’s as if he just released the weight of the world off his shoulders. “When your mom met me, I was a bartender in Alaska. I had no mother, no father, at least none that I knew. I grew up surviving in foster homes until I was able to run away from the last one, and never looked back.”

“Wait,” I blurt, raising a hand to stop him from saying anything else. I thought I wanted to hear the truth, but I’m nauseated, and all I want to do is storm out of the restaurant and forget what he just told me. But he can’t take it back, and I can’t unhear it. Suddenly, it feels like an earthquake is rattling my foundation.

I put my hand down and settle in my seat. “Continue,” I say with a surprising amount of control.

After a few beats, Chris clutches the side of the table and leans toward me. “Hercules, do you like your life? Running the company? Being who you are? All of it?”

His eye contact is earnest.

I should say yes. I want to say it. But I’m being forced to marry a woman I don’t love. I’m beholden to the Valentine trust if I want to keep VTI alive. And the business is our family’s pride and joy. Its success separates us from the rest of the Valentines. Most of them have blundered away their wealth.

When I came onboard, Orion was at the helm. VTI was sixty days from closing the doors. Orion is smart, but he’s not a businessman. All he managed to do was increase the overhead and get our employees addicted to all the expensive perks that come with working for us. And Achilles is lawyer. His one job is to make sure our family gets the most from the trust.