Chapter 2 - The Secret Claire Took With Her
Roman canceled the acquisition meeting.
That alone sent panic through three companies.
He didn’t care.
He brought Eli into his private office and ordered food.
Eli barely touched it.
Roman sat across from him.
“Who were you living with?”
“My mom.”
“Anyone else?”
“No.”
“Grandparents?”
“Grandma died when I was five. Grandpa before I was born.”
“Your father?”
Eli gave him a strange look.
Roman immediately regretted the question.
“You,” the boy said.
Silence.
Roman leaned back.
“Right.”
Eli looked down at his sandwich.
“Mom said you might be angry.”
“At you?”
“At her.”
Roman glanced toward the envelope.
“I don’t know what I am yet.”
“That sounds like angry.”
Despite everything, Roman almost smiled.
“You’re very direct.”
“Mom said I get that from you.”
Roman’s smile disappeared.
“How much did she tell you about me?”
“Not much.”
“Why?”
“She said I should meet you before deciding who you were.”
Roman looked toward the rain outside.
“That sounds like Claire.”
Eli pushed the old notebook across the desk.
“She wanted you to have this too.”
Roman touched it but didn’t open it.
“What is it?”
“Stuff she wrote.”
“Did you read it?”
“Some.”
“And?”
Eli shrugged.
“She loved you.”
Roman looked at him sharply.
The boy continued eating.
“She didn’t say it like that.”
“How did she say it?”
“She kept drawing the same cabin.”
Roman stared at the key.
Fifteen years disappeared.
Vermont.
Cabin Twelve.
Claire standing on a ladder, arguing with him about a window frame.
“That wall is crooked,” Roman had said.
“No,” Claire replied. “Your personality is crooked.”
He had laughed.
Nobody spoke to him that way anymore.
Nobody except—
Roman looked at Eli.
“What do you like?”
Eli blinked.
“What?”
“I don’t know what nine-year-olds talk about.”
“Neither do I.”
“You’re nine.”
“I don’t talk to myself.”
Roman stared at him.
Then laughed.
A genuine laugh.
Eli smiled slightly.
“Astronomy,” the boy said.
“You like astronomy?”
“I want to see Saturn.”
“You can see it with the right telescope.”
“I know.”
Roman reached toward his phone.
Eli immediately said, “Please don’t buy me one.”
Roman stopped.
“I wasn’t—”
“You were.”
Roman slowly lowered the phone.
“How did you know?”
“My mom said you solve problems with money.”
Roman looked offended.
“That’s an oversimplification.”
“She said you’d say something like that too.”
For the second time that afternoon, Roman laughed.
But later that evening, after Eli had fallen asleep in the penthouse guest room, there was no laughter left.
Roman sat alone beside the windows.
The envelope waited before him.
He opened it.
Claire’s handwriting filled several pages.
If you’re reading this, then Eli found you.
Roman continued.
She told him about her heart condition.
About eighteen months of doctors.
About hope turning into preparation.
Then came the confession.
I never told you about Eli because I convinced myself you deserved the life you built.
Roman’s jaw tightened.
He kept reading.
The truth is simpler.
I was afraid.
Afraid you’d resent us.
Afraid you’d give up your future.
Afraid I’d ask you to choose between your empire and your family.
Roman lowered the letter.
“Damn it, Claire.”
His voice cracked.
He continued.
So I chose for you.
It wasn’t fair.
I’m sorry.
Then came the part about Eli.
He loved astronomy.
He hated loud arguments.
Thunder frightened him.
And when he was hurting most, he became quiet.
If he goes quiet instead of crying... check on him.
Roman stopped.
He looked toward the hallway.
Eli had barely spoken since dinner.
Then thunder rolled over Manhattan.
Roman stood immediately.
He walked to the guest bedroom.
The bed was empty.
“Eli?”
Nothing.
Roman checked the bathroom.
Empty.
Then he noticed the balcony door slightly open.
His blood ran cold.
He rushed across the room.
“Eli!”
The boy was sitting on the covered section of the balcony, knees against his chest, staring at the storm.
Roman exhaled.
“What are you doing?”
“Watching.”
“In the rain?”
“I’m not in the rain.”
Thunder cracked again.
Eli flinched.
Barely.
But Roman saw it.
He remembered Claire’s words.
Roman sat beside him.
Neither spoke.
After a minute, Eli asked:
“Did you read it?”
“Yes.”
“Are you mad?”
Roman stared at the skyline.
“Yes.”
Eli’s face fell.
Roman turned toward him.
“But not at you.”
Another silence.
“Then who?”
May you like
Roman looked at Claire’s letter in his hand.
“At fifteen years I can never get back.”
