Tim's jaw was tight as he stepped into his father's study. The scent of old books and aged whiskey clung to the air, familiar yet suddenly suffocating.
He stood at the threshold of his father's study, hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders tense. The heavy oak door was already open, as if Edward had been expecting him.
Of course, he had.
Edward Lancaster never missed a move. Even now, sick and worn by time, he remained a man who saw too much.
Tim stepped inside.
The study was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of aged whiskey and old books. Edward sat in his leather chair, his posture remained as composed as ever, despite the blanket draped over his lap.
"You've been busy," Edward said without looking up, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. His voice was calm—too calm.
Tim shut the door behind him, the soft click echoing between them. "And you've been lying."
Edward finally met his son's gaze. A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I wouldn't call it lying."
Tim clenched his jaw. "You knew where she was."
Edward didn't react. He didn't even blink. "Did I?"
Tim stepped forward. "Don't play games with me, Dad." His voice was low, controlled, but the undercurrent of rage was obvious. "You were in contact with her. You knew she had my child."
"There he goes again with the possession." Edward took a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down with deliberate care. "And what would you have done with that information?"
Tim stilled.
Edward tilted his head, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion lining his face. "Would you have chased after her? Dragged her back? Forced her into something she didn't want?"
Tim exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "She was my wife to find."
Edward's expression darkened. "She was never yours to own."
The words landed like a blow.
Tim swallowed against the tightness in his throat. "I had a right to know."
Edward studied him for a long moment before finally nodding. "Yes," he admitted. "You did."
Silence stretched between them.
Edward cleared his throat. "After her dismissal, I studied you. I watched you get eaten up by guilt. I wasn't watching you suffer, I was watching you realize what you felt," he stared into his glass. "I think you're finally ready, so I called her back,"
Tim took a slow breath, forcing himself to think through the haze of betrayal burning in his chest. "Why did you help her?"
Edward leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his lap. "Because she asked."
Tim's stomach twisted.
His father had never been a man to act on sentiment. And yet, for Aurora… he had.
Tim shook his head, his voice rough. "You stood by her, and never told me? I would have played along,"
Edward's gaze softened—just enough to make it worse. "I stood by the one who needed me."
Tim let out a bitter laugh, stepping away, pacing. His mind was a whirlwind of anger, confusion, guilt.
"You knew she was pregnant," he said, more to himself than his father. "And you let me believe she was dead."
Edward exhaled. "Would you have let her go?"
Tim froze.
His father watched him, waiting. "If I had told you back then, would you have let her go even if she begged you to?"
Tim's fists clenched at his sides. The answer sat between them, and they acknowledged it. No. He wouldn't have.
Edward leaned forward slightly. "You weren't ready, Tim. And you know it."
Tim's throat tightened. "And now?"
His father smiled. His smile was laced with sadness. "Now, that's up to you."
Silence.
Tim turned toward the door, gripping the handle, his pulse thrumming.
"She wasn't running from you," Edward said quietly.
Tim stilled.
Edward's voice was softer now. "She was running for something." He studied Tim carefully, as if measuring how much to reveal. "Aurora was a family once. That doesn't change simply because you let her go."
The words settled uncomfortably in his chest, but he ignored them. "She's been in contact with you all these years?"
Edward tilted his head slightly, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "You're asking the wrong question, son."
Tim's eyes darkened. "Then what's the right question?" He almost yelled. Everyone knew except him. The torture was too much.
Everyone watched his child grow except him. He never planned to have a child but he also didn't plan to miss out on the opportunity of watching his child grow.
For the first time in his life, he felt irresponsible.
Edward leaned forward, his expression unreadable. "Why do you care?"
The words slammed into Tim harder than he expected. He had spent years convincing himself that Aurora was a closed chapter. A mistake that was corrected.
He clenched his jaw. "You should have told me."
His father's gaze sharpened. "What will you do? Undo the past? Take back what you threw away?"
Tim didn't answer. He couldn't.
Edward studied him for a moment longer before exhaling. "She didn't come back for you, Tim."
The words shouldn't have stung, but they did.
Edward leaned back again, looking almost amused at his son's silence. "That being said… you might not be able to avoid her this time."
Tim swallowed the defect. He just turned to leave.
"One more thing, Tim."
Tim paused.
Edward's tone was softer now, almost thoughtful. "Not everything you lost is beyond reach."
Tim didn't respond. He simply walked out.