Chapter 26 #3
“True,” Christopher agreed. “The difference here being that when she fell pregnant with me, he decided he wished to keep it. I never asked, but I suspected that my mother…” He winced.
“My father’s wife was barren, and they could not have children of their own.
So they elected to raise me as their son, keeping the secret from anyone who might have dared to raise questions. ”
“How is that possible?” Alistair said. “Surely this maid… or your aunt…”
“Were in on it,” Christopher said. “I like to think too that my father wanted me to have a relationship with her, which would explain why he took me to my aunt’s home so often.
And why did he allow me to spend time with my mother…
” A smile tugged at his lips. “Sadly, she died when I was just six, and then my father’s wife died shortly after… ”
“At which point he figured it was best to cover the lie entirely.”
Christopher nodded. “The older I became, the more terrified my father grew that the secret would get out. He knew how people would react if it were discovered that I was the spawn of an affair. And with a maid of all people.” He laughed bitterly and had another mouthful.
“So, he raised me with an express eye toward…” Christopher clicked his tongue as he tried to consider the phrasing.
“Never raising a fuss?” Theodore offered.
“Exactly,” Christopher said. “To remain in the public eye, I had to be perfect. I had to be exactly what people expected. No drama. No cause for gossip. The perfect son and a model of propriety.”
Theodore snorted. “You did rather well at it, I must say.”
“Years of practice,” Christopher said.
“And your marriage?” Alistair pushed. “You told us that it was arranged before your father’s death.”
“My aunt is the reason,” Christopher said. “She and my father worked to find me a match quickly, one that would avert suspicion. The perfect wife for the perfect lord. But my father died, leaving my aunt to finalize the details.”
“Which you were only too happy to go along with,” Theodore said in realization. “You know, I always wondered why you were so eager to marry. Especially when you have never shown any inclination toward it.”
Christopher shrugged. “Lies on top of lies, and eventually you forget the truth so that lies become real.”
“And I take it that Rosalind…” Alistair let the question trail.
Christopher exhaled, and his shoulders slumped.
“She found out. That is why I am here…” He looked about the room with a curled nose.
“When she found out the truth, I panicked and announced an end to our marriage.” He scoffed.
“I truly believed that would be better than to risk the truth coming out.”
“And why did you think the truth would come out?” Alistair asked.
Christopher blinked. “Because… well… I just assumed that Rose…”
“That she would tell people?” Theodore frowned. “Why on earth would she do that? A rumor such as that would hurt her just as much as it would you.”
“She would have every reason to keep it hidden,” Alistair agreed.
“That’s not the point,” Christopher sighed. “I don’t want it hidden. I don’t want a marriage built on lies – I don’t want to put her in that position in the first place. It is my mess, not Rose’s.”
“Ah, now I see…” Theodore sat himself up. “You weren’t worried that she would tell people. You were worried about what she would think of you.”
“I…” Christopher winced, knowing the words to be true. “That is a small part of it.”
“That is the whole part,” Theodore said rightly. “You are worried she will learn the truth and turn up her nose. Admit it.”
“So what if I am?”
“Christopher…” Alistair rested a hand on his shoulder. “If you had seen your wife as we did, you would know that the last thing on her mind is… well, whatever this is. She does not care, is the point. She was worried about you. Damn upset, by my mind.”
“He’s right,” Theodore added. “And from everything I know of your wife, I doubt she cares one way or the other who your mother is. I know we certainly don’t.”
“That’s right,” Alistair said rightly. “We don’t care, so why should she?”
Christopher looked at Alistair and then at Theodore. He saw in the way that they looked at him the truth in their words. He saw concern. He saw worry. He saw love and compassion. And the one thing he did not see was judgment.
“You… you really don’t care?” His voice cracked.
Theodore scoffed. “In all honesty, I am almost grateful for it. Not only does it explain a lot, but if it improves your personality even a fraction, then I think we will all be pleasantly glad for the change.”
“We’re your friends, Christopher,” Alistair said. “And who your mother is will not change that.”
Christopher felt like a damn fool.
His entire life, everything that he had done, was built around the idea that if anyone learned the truth about him, they would disown him without question. He had lived his life in fear, and for what? Nothing, and no good reason, it looked like.
“I don’t know what to say…” He sniffed back tears that threatened to burst.
“I suspect there are many things you wish to say,” Theodore said. “Just as I suspect that we are not the ones you should be saying them to.” He raised a knowing eyebrow at him. “We forgive you for the lies, Christopher, but you don’t really care what we think.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t,” Alistair said. “Your wife is who you should worry yourself over, just as she is the one who deserves the truth. And before you start to carry on about her not supporting you or any of that nonsense, ask yourself this…” He made sure to look right at Christopher.
“What would you prefer? To keep living the lie and be alone for the rest of your life?
Or to reveal the truth and to be yourself, with the chance that you might be happy?
Which is the future that you want for yourself?
It wasn’t even a question.
As Christopher’s two best friends sat beside him in full support of what they had just been told, he cast his mind back to his wife… focusing on the moment that she had learned the truth.
He pictured her face, the look in her eyes, searching for the judgment, the hate, the loathing he had been sure that she would hold for him. But the more he thought about it, the more Christophe realized how wrong he had been.
Rose did not hate him. And she would not judge him.
What she would do, he now knew, was support him.
Gone were the days when he was not sure what he wanted from his marriage.
Gone were the days when he thought himself better if he was alone.
And gone were the days when he did not think happiness was something that he deserved.
“I… I must go to her.” He was on his feet.
“We think so,” Alistair said.
“I…” He turned on the spot, energy coursing through him. “I must tell her the truth.”
“It is about damn time,” Theodore said.
He strode across the room, his body trembling from the surge of hope that flowed through his veins. When he reached the door, he turned back and looked upon his friends with a smile. “Thank you,” he said. “For supporting me. For… for… for not judging me.”
“We are judging you,” Theodore said. “But not for what you think. Your wife needs you, man, and if you do not go to her, you'd better start looking for new friends.”
Christopher laughed, the first time he had done so in days, and it sounded good. It sounded right.
Outside, a crash of lightning and a roar of thunder shook the house. The rain fell thick and heavy, the wind lashed and battered without mercy, and Christopher doubted that things would get better before they got worse. But he also did not care.
His whole life had been spent hiding from the storm, and now that it was here, it was time that he faced it head-on because he knew that once he burst from the other side, and once he felt the warm sun on his face, nothing would be the same again.
For once in his life, he did not want it to be. For once, he looked forward to change. For once, Christopher rode into the storm because he was no longer afraid.