Chapter 85
W hen I left the hospital, I found it difficult to describe how I felt.
I didn’t feel selfishly sad or sorrowful, but the levels of empathy I had for Morgan were naturally dragging my mood down. If I detached myself from Morgan and just focused on what I felt for Edwin, that was easy—there was nothing. But I had an obligation as his brother to be there for him.
The sorrow that weighed on me sent my mind to some weird places that weren’t necessarily dark or sad, but nevertheless had me wondering how things had been and could have been.
The biggest thing I kept flashing back to was wondering what my life would have been like if I had stayed with my biological parents—if I had had a father worth having.
There was no reason to consider the hypothetical of if Edwin had been a better father.
I’d had two decades of experience to know not only was that fruitless, there was never a reason to expect it to have ever changed.
But my father… Parker Givens… what kind of a man was he?
What kind of a woman was my actual mother, Bethany Givens?
I knew their names, but I didn’t know their faces. I had deliberately stayed far away and refused anything that Mom didn’t force me to hear. But now?
I sure was awfully curious.
A big part of it was me opening up to the idea that life was not one series of abandonments after another.
Layla and Morgan had shown that to me in the past couple of weeks, but that was overt; it was obvious that they had not abandoned me.
But was it possible that my parents choosing to give me up for adoption was not abandonment, but simply the best choice?
I had almost certainly wound up in better economic conditions, and it was hard to have a brother and mother I was closer to than the ones I had now.
At the very least, I was starting to realize that “abandonment” was no longer the default for how my relationships would go.
So is it abandoning Layla to say to go slow? She more or less made that claim earlier.
It was a question I wrestled with all night.
I got back to my apartment to find the door unlocked and Layla gone, but nothing was out of place, just as I had figured would be the case.
I didn’t fall asleep until about three or four in the morning, and even then, it was very light sleep, the kind of sleep where a single gust of wind outside could have changed everything.
When I woke up, though, I knew the answer, at least on a general level, if not in regards to that exact question.
I was never, ever going to abandon someone, physically or emotionally.
If Layla ultimately moved to Chicago or decided we weren’t going to work out, I was still going to be there as a friend for her. I was going to make goddamn sure of it.
No one, and I mean no one, whom I met in real life and whom I had a relationship with would ever fucking have to deal with what I did for most of my childhood.
I woke up shortly after ten in the morning, rising and feeling especially grateful for another day.
I stretched, grabbed my phone, and read my texts.
Morgan had asked me to come to Hunt Industries to go over stuff with the family lawyer at one.
That felt like the kind of bullshit work that had to be done; I already knew after our arrangement with Edwin that I’d get one-third of his wealth, similar to Mom and Morgan.
I moved about my morning slowly. I supposed I could have gone to the nearby coffee shop and done some work, maybe I could have sent some emails of encouragement to Claire and Andrew, but I was still processing the night before.
Just because I didn’t feel any grief didn’t mean I had nothing to figure out, and I wanted to make sure that my mind was clear before engaging other people.
I spent the morning instead cooking an omelet with extra eggs, watching sports highlights on loop, and just generally flipping through the channels with a sort of boredom that was meant more to let my brain heal than to actually engage.
An hour before one, I started to get ready, throwing on a button-down shirt, a sports coat, and my slacks.
I didn’t feel like I was going to a funeral, but I was about to be made wealthy beyond my wildest dreams; the least I could do was dress the part.
When I showed up to Hunt Industries, the first thing I noticed was that though the decor of the place and the various computerized projections seemed to suggest a mourning for the CEO and founder, the people in the building didn’t seem particularly melancholy.
I couldn’t say this was a surprise, given what I knew about Edwin, but it was still incredible to see.
The funeral may be even less crowded than I thought.
I went to the front desk, gave my name, and was led to the top floor. I walked to what was Edwin Hunt’s office and found my mother and brother sitting, unusually firm expressions on their faces. The lawyer, sitting where Edwin had once sat, looked like he was trying to fight the smile on his face.
“Welcome, Chance,” he said, shaking my hand. “I’m Matthew Wohl. Has your family told you the news?”
“No?” I said, unsure of where this was going.
“Well,” Matthew said. “I suppose I should make this as straightforward as I can. Edwin Hunt never put you in any part of the will.”
“What the fuck?”
I knew I wasn’t supposed to swear in front of my mother, but I didn’t care. Even beyond the grave, Edwin was reneging on a deal and screwing over someone. He had to get one last “fuck you” in to me before he went to hell.
That fucking motherfucker… I would make money, I didn’t care about that. A couple billion dollars really didn’t mean that much; I’d make a few million, retire to suburban life, and be just as happy. But for Edwin to do what he did…
I mean, seriously! What the fuck did he have to prove? He had plenty of time from when Morgan and I cornered him to change the will. He had to know that he was dying—if Morgan knew, Edwin knew. And yet still, and yet even now, the bastard had to fuck me over one last time.
Rot in hell, asshole. You’re going to have an eternity in that shithole for the kind of fucking scumbag you are.
“I know,” Matthew said. “Your mother and Morgan reacted the same way that you did. However, there is something else you should know.”
“What,” I growled.
What the fuck else could be done? What the fuck more was going to happen to screw me over in some fashion?
I couldn’t wait to hear how Edwin had found yet another way to deprive me of something; maybe he’d have bought out Rising Sun or Virtual Realty.
Maybe he’d just hired a bunch of goons to fucking kill me.
Maybe he spread that photo to everyone he knew.
“Chance.”
I turned around to my mother’s soft voice. She now wore a soft smile, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears.
“Mom?”
“Chance,” Morgan said. I turned my chair around to face both of them.
“Legally speaking, there’s nothing we can do.
But Mom and I are in agreement that you were as much a part of the family as the two of us were.
We can’t control what Edwin did with his money and what he owned. But we can control what we do with it.”
“Chance,” Mom said. “We’re each going to give you a third of our own intake, meaning that we’ll all have one-third of Edwin’s total net worth.”
They… they…
“You’re serious…” I said, my voice trailing off, going very quiet.
“We are,” Morgan said. “You deserve it, brother. You’re a good man and you’re a Hunt. You may have been born a Givens, but you’re family to us.”
I felt such joy, such gratitude, that I had to bury my face in my hands as I began to cry. They actually did it. They actually, really, truly saw me as family.
I really was a Hunt. I’d almost abandoned the name after everything that Edwin had done to me, but Melanie and Morgan had shown me that I was one of them. I am a Hunt. Nothing—no will, no words, no criticism, no document—can change that.
“Logistically, it will take some time,” Matthew said behind me. “But I will be working with your mother and brother, Chance, to make this as seamless and easy a transition as possible.”
I couldn’t even respond. I was still crying tears of such joy; no one had ever treated me this way.
No one had ever gone so far out of their way to do something like this for me.
Mom and Morgan could have easily given me a couple million each and kept the majority of the money.
They could have not done anything, hiding behind it being a legal decision.
But they didn’t. They did what was right, not what was ordered.
I… I was at a complete loss for words.
“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you.”
Mom and Morgan both came up to me, and I embraced them both at the same time.
I think all three of us started crying, and we probably looked like some ridiculous scene out of a sitcom, but I didn’t care.
I had family—it wasn’t defined by a last name or by who had given birth to me.
It was defined by the levels of love someone showed and how far they would go to do what was right.
Again, it wasn’t even the money. Edwin could have had a hundred bucks in the bank and the principle would be the same. It was the kindness and love of Morgan and Mom.
“Thanks,” I said one last time before pulling back, sitting down and taking several deep breaths.
“If Edwin were here, I’d probably kill him myself for this,” Mom said. “I’m sorry for this Chance. I—”
“I trust you guys,” I said with a hand wave. “I know someone worth billions will take several months, maybe a year, to get those funds over to me. I know you’re good for it, though.”
Morgan and Mom both beamed.
“You don’t have to come to the funeral if you don’t want to,” Morgan said. “I know this kind of dick move is the last thing you’ll remember Edwin by. So if you want to stay away—”
“It’s fine,” I said. “We’re family, remember? I’ll go. No, I’m not going for Edwin. I’m going for you guys.”
“But—”
“Really, I’m pretty sure it’s the least I could do,” I said with a laugh. “You both are sending billions of dollars, I think I can make it to one funeral of someone I don’t like.”
Morgan chuckled. Mom wiped away a tear.
“Alright,” Mom said. “It’s currently scheduled for eleven on Sunday. We’re sending out invites, but I don’t think many people are going to show.”
“Not a concern,” I said. “As long as you two are there, it’ll be enough. We’ll pay whatever respects we have to and then go on with our day.”
It might have sounded flippant, but even Morgan seemed to be seeing his father in less of a light than before. I knew the actual day of the funeral would make Morgan think differently, but right now, he seemed to have the same feeling about Edwin that I did.
Still, I wasn’t even thinking about Edwin right now.
I was just so overwhelmed and grateful for my family.
It was… it was indescribable, it really was.
To feel so left behind, so abandoned for two decades, only to be shown that you were never abandoned, you were just encouraged to pick up after yourself, saved when you had to be…
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that I knew my entire life would change because of that moment.
I had always loved Morgan and Mom before that, but now, I really loved them.
This wasn’t the love of someone desperate for attention; this was the love of someone who would literally die for them if need be.
“Sounds good,” Mom said. “Let’s handle whatever else we need to here, and then we’ll go home. We’ve dealt with enough today.”