164 — MICHAEL O’NEIL (POV)

Seven years ago, I found out that I’m a father. And I just needed to look at those big brown eyes, her features that reminded me so much of myself — of my family.
But the truth is that, for a whole week, I didn’t sleep.
Of course, I welcomed Angelee from the first moment. I believed in her and hugged her tightly, but there was a dark side that I didn’t want to acknowledge... I didn’t want to *accept* this truth.
For more than thirty years, my life has been shaped by the wishes of others. My parents, Kristen... It was kind of scary to regain control. Admitting the uncertainties and fears I had at that time sounded like a sin. I didn’t allow myself to understand them.
But Angelee’s words today made me realize something... That I am a human, after all.
A human that made mistakes and has been blinded for too long.
But I never imagined that my guilt was a burden for Angelee. In fact, I never realized how deep the roots of this feeling ran. I thought that if she wasn’t capable of hating me, I should do it in her place... But I never considered that it might hurt her too.
Hah, I’m stupid.
Even now, I need Angelee to lighten my path. I couldn’t see something so simple on my own. How can someone as successful as me be so clueless about life?
I’m on top of the world. I have a fortune that even if I worked hard every day, I probably wouldn’t spend it all. Respect, success, money… I’ve always had it all. And yet, I felt empty. Jack’s death tore a hole in my chest… a hole that expanded every second, every blink of an eye.
Like a bloody black hole that devours everything into its darkness — that’s how I’ve felt ever since Jack died.
When did that change? When did I feel that my life had any meaning? Was it when I decided to make my best friend’s dreams come true? Was it when Julian joined in this uncertain madness by my side? No, none of that was able to stop this emptiness from devouring me.
What really saved me was Angelee, my daughter.
I close my eyes tightly, pinching the top of my nose. How many years has it been since I cried like that? I think the only time was in that dark, upside-down room. But it feels different this time.
Back then, I felt like I could die… Today, I could say I’ve been reborn.
A new purpose warms my chest.
Hope.
Understanding.
Freedom.
Forgiveness.
I forgave myself, my past, and God.
I forgave Jack for leaving us... for making me choose that night... for forcing me to live with the weight of my choice, blaming myself every day for doubting that I had done the right thing.
I open my eyes again, they sting, but if I keep them closed, I’ll remember those damn flames, the destroyed car, the glass scattered between the stones and the earth. The smell of fuel sometimes burns my nose. In fact, it seems to be impregnated into my skin. No matter how many times I rub my body, I can still feel it on me.
Death. The smell of burn… I swear I can still hear Julian’s cry.
I lower my head, pathetically covering my eyes again. The wine shakes in my hand, and I have to hold the glass tighter so that it doesn’t slip to the floor. I lean on the balcony railing, my breathing getting heavier and heavier. I’m on the verge of hyperventilating.
Funny, I thought I was over it.
“Mike?” Julian’s voice startles me so much that my heart leaps into my throat.
I turn around abruptly, shocked to find the 33-year-old man and not the child I held in my arms that night.
His confused eyes slowly widen as he realizes that my bloodshot, wet eyes are not for the same reason as before.
“Are you okay?” He asks, crossing his arms on the doorframe.
I clear my throat and rub my eyes hard, running my hand over my face, through my hair, and pulling at the shirt that’s already unbuttoned.
“Yes, I am.”
*Bullshit,* he can see it. My voice comes out so shaky and strangled that I sound pathetic.
I take a sip of the wine — in fact, I drink it all in one gulp, my throat burning and my mouth bitter, even though this is one of the sweetest vintages I’ve ever had.
I shift my weight to my other leg, stretch my arms across the railing, and try to change the subject, “How’s Angelee?”
“Sleeping. They say women get really sleepy in early pregnancy.” He says it naturally, but the way he scratches his beard shows me that he’s oddly unsure.
I force a smile, “Look at you, sounding like a grown-up man.”
Julian gives me a sarcastic smile back, “I’m not a brat anymore, you know that, right?”
His words reverberate through my chest, and I lower my eyes, staring at the tips of my shoes.
“I know.” My words come out as a sigh, low and weak.
Julian looks at me with surprise, somewhat confused. His green eyes stare at me intensely, and I swear that, for a moment, I thought they were Jack’s… They both really look alike.
For a while, watching Julian grow up and become so much like him hurt me…and that’s one of the guilts I carry.
I’ve always been ashamed of feeling that way, of the thought that sometimes flashes through my mind for a single second, like, *what if I save Jack instead?* Of course, it’s never lasted longer than that, and yet it weighs on my mind.
“What’s wrong with you tonight?” Julian crosses his arms, tensing his muscles. “You’re weird, bringing up that subject earlier.”
“Did that bother you?” I give a sad, bitter smile.
“It could have been another time-”
“Could it?” I interrupt him and notice that Julian frowns.
His sharp eyes narrow a little, and his jaw tenses.
“Did something happen?” He asks, without breaking his serious posture. It really is curious how he has become such a serene man. What happened to Jack had broken him, but time has healed him — *Angelee* healed him. “Does this have to do with Kristen?”
I sigh, drumming my fingers on the railing and tilting my head to the side, looking at the streets below, at the horizon, the cars, and the people walking through the city without a care in the world.
“Did she do something?” Julian insists, bringing my eyes to him again. He seems to waver in his posture, perhaps because my eyes are as cold as the breeze tonight.
“Nothing besides putting me in thought. Well, not *yet,* anyway.” I pause and notice that, for some reason, I’m holding my breath. I let it out slowly in a long sigh and looked at the street again. “But maybe it’s only a matter of time before they break at my life again and make a mess of it. Now that you’re going to marry my daughter, they may start to push me.”
“Is that why you brought up this subject out of the blue in the restaurant?”
“I know my mother well enough to know that she would do anything to get me back. She would never let the business fall into the hands of my half-brother. And my father would rather bankrupt the empire than pass it on to his nephews. I’ve been stuck in this war for too long. It’s like I’ve got a bomb in my hands that’s about to explode.”
“And you feel it’s about to explode now?” Julian’s voice sends a shiver down my spine.
“More than ever,” I mutter, my eyes locked on the horizon, on the dark sky that shows me no stars because everything around me is bright on its own.
“Do you think they’ll use our engagement to bring you back?” Julian asks fearfully, and I feel my chest, my belly, and my whole body freeze. I feel cold, but not from the breeze that is beginning to bring with it traces of winter. Faced with my silence, Julian adds, “Even if you’ve cut ties?”
Things... aren’t as easy as they seem.
Maybe I’m just being pessimistic, but I can’t help it. There’s a shadow, a bad omen lurking inside me. And I know, clear as day, that this engagement… *this child* will change everything.
“You know it, Julian... I always wanted a brother.” I say thoughtfully, my eyes still lost on the buildings. “I remember when you were born... you looked really big in your mother’s arms. I was so jealous of Jack... He was always bragging about his little brother, about how cute you were. He was always smiling when it came to you. I wanted a brother, too... but I didn’t know it at the time. My mother couldn’t bear a child again, but only now I can imagine how painful it must have been to hear your son asking for another child.”
Julian stays quiet, giving me space and waiting for me to continue venting or get to my point. But is there really a point? It’s not like my mother’s condition is an O’Neil secret… people just don’t talk about it.
“Angelee being so rejected and treated like a bastard, maybe it’s all kind of my fault. If I hadn’t pushed my mother so much, she wouldn’t have become so bitter towards Stevan and take off that anger against my daughter.”
“How old is he now?” Julian asks quietly, not knowing if the topic bothers me. Well, it’s funny, but I don’t feel anything. We share the same father, but we’ve never had the chance to connect... not because I hold any grudges, but because I didn’t want to make things difficult for my mother... A mistress and a child out of wedlock were pain enough.
“He’s three years older than Angelee, so probably twenty-six. It’s not like we have a relationship for me to celebrate his birthdays. Apart from the fact that his birth was three years before my daughter’s, I couldn’t say anything else.” I run my hand through my hair, brush the strands back, and turn my eyes to Julian, who seems struck by my words. “But it’s different with you. At least, it should be. Your family used to be a *real family.”*
“Maybe before they stabbed me in the back,” Julian says between his teeth, his gaze rigid.
“They always cared about you,” I say, and notice that he looks away, unable to look at me. “I can understand your parents-”
“Can you?” Julian interrupts me harshly, looking at me with sharp green eyes that make my heart skip a beat. The way he’s looking at me now, sharply, determined, with feelings locked away... reminds me of Jack’s that night.
“Now that I’m a father, yes,” I add, and notice that his gaze softens, as do his fists. “And you’ll understand too, now that you’ll have your *own child.”*
Julian remains silent as if mulling over my words. He sighs, nodding like he has a lot on his mind.
“You should get some sleep. There’s a lot of work to be done tomorrow.” I say, turning my back on him and crossing my arms over the railing.
He sighs, then murmurs, “You’re right. Good night,” and leaves, his calm, heavy steps gradually driving away.
My chest hurts, overcome by a deep agony, an emptiness that spreads over every inch until it takes me over completely…
And my empty eyes grow heavy, making me, once again, remember that damn night twenty-four years ago.