Chapter 9 - Thomas Morel Finally Told the Whole Story

Three months later, Thomas asked to see Vincent.

Not Rebecca.

Vincent.

They met in the old ferry terminal.

Henry chose the place.

Thomas arrived with no lawyer.

One folder.

He sat across from Vincent.

"I owe you one final truth."

Vincent almost laughed.

"That phrase should be illegal."

Thomas nodded.

"Probably."

He opened the folder.

Birth records.

Hospital payments.

One photograph.

Enzo Bellini.

Michael Bellini.

Thomas Morel.

And Julia.

Vincent frowned.

"Julia knew Thomas?"

Henry answered:

"Everyone knew everyone."

Thomas continued:

"Julia was Enzo's choice for Michael."

Vincent nodded.

"I know."

"No."

Thomas looked at him.

"She was also my cousin."

Silence.

Rebecca's family and Vincent's had been connected longer than anyone said.

Vincent stared.

"Rebecca and I are related?"

Thomas shook his head.

"Not by blood."

"Explain."

"Julia's mother was adopted into the Morel family."

Vincent exhaled.

"Good."

Then frowned.

"Why hide that?"

"Because it explains why I was there."

"At the hospital."

"Yes."

Thomas looked down.

"Enzo asked me to help arrange the separation."

Vincent's jaw tightened.

"I know."

"No."

Thomas met his eyes.

"I volunteered."

Silence.

That was worse.

"Why?"

"Because I thought Anna would ruin Michael."

Anna sat nearby.

She did not move.

Thomas looked at her.

"I judged you."

She said:

"Yes."

"I thought money made one family more legitimate than another."

"Yes."

Thomas looked back at Vincent.

"I was not just young."

"I was cruel."

Vincent stared.

No excuse.

Thomas continued:

"Years later, when I saw what Enzo had done to Michael, I tried to repair it."

"With Rebecca's trust."

"Yes."

"And then protected yourself again."

"Yes."

"Why tell me this now?"

Thomas slid the photograph forward.

"Because Rebecca stopped speaking to me."

Vincent's expression changed.

Thomas continued:

"She said she cannot rebuild her life while I keep describing my choices as mistakes made for family."

Anna looked at him.

"She's right."

Thomas nodded.

"I know."

He handed Vincent another document.

A confession prepared for prosecutors.

Not partial.

Full.

Hospital.

Payments.

Letters.

Debt.

Trust.

Collateral.

Everything.

Vincent read the first page.

"You signed this."

"Yes."

"You could go to prison."

"Yes."

Vincent looked at him.

"Why now?"

Thomas said:

"Because my daughter asked me a question."

"What?"

"Whether I would still call it protection if she had done the same things to me."

Silence.

Thomas smiled sadly.

"I couldn't answer."

Vincent closed the folder.

"Good."

Thomas stood.

Then stopped.

"Do you love her?"

Vincent looked at him.

"That is no longer your business."

Thomas nodded.

"Also fair."

After he left, Henry sat beside Vincent.

"You're getting better at this."

"At what?"

"Not letting old men control the room."

Vincent almost smiled.

That night, Vincent called Rebecca.

She answered.

"Hello?"

"Your father confessed."

Silence.

"I know."

"You told him to."

"No."

"I told him I was done listening to excuses."

Vincent leaned against the window.

Rebecca asked:

"Are you angry?"

"At you?"

"Yes."

"Still."

She nodded even though he could not see.

"Fair."

Then Vincent said:

"Coffee."

Silence.

Rebecca whispered:

"What?"

"Tomorrow."

"Is that a date?"

"No."

"Then what?"

Vincent thought.

"Coffee."

She laughed softly.

"Okay."

They met the next morning.

No ring.

No engagement.

No family.

Rebecca arrived first.

Vincent sat.

She said:

"I don't expect anything."

"Good."

They talked for two hours.

Not about marriage.

Not about shares.

Not about fathers.

They talked about food.

Music.

The worst vacation they had ever taken.

Then Rebecca said:

"This feels strange."

"What?"

"You knew all these things about me already."

Vincent looked at her.

"No."

"I knew the version of you who was protecting a secret."

She went quiet.

He continued:

"I want to know who you are when you're not."

Rebecca smiled.

"That may take a while."

"So did everything else."

When they left, Vincent did not kiss her.

He did not hold her hand.

But he asked:

"Next week?"

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Rebecca nodded.

"Next week."