Tale In The Red Sand

Chapter Thirty - Two

"I'm sorry, Ercole." Said Marco all of a sudden.

Ercole was instantly alarmed. "What for, Padre?"

"For being a such careless father to you. You didn't deserve it, the things I've said to you and the way I treated you. I didn't really mean any of it, I was so consumed by the grief of your mother's death, I couldn't pull myself back together so like a coward I took it out on you." He elucidated, trying not to choke up on his words as he forced past the forming lump in his throat. "I was so happy to be given a chance at love with your mother, I sincerely loved her with all my heart and she loved the same. She loved you, she was so excited to have a child and when god blessed us with you, she was over the moon, but then she got taken away from me. When death came for her, I couldn't bare the pain" -

"Papa, what is "— Ercole began, but his father pushed through, he needed to apologise. He should've done it the moment Ercole arrived.

"I thought it was my cruel fate, I must have been a horrible person to be given so much pain and misery, but I know better now. It gave me no right to treat you the way I did, I am deeply sorry son, and I hope you forgive me; I may not have much time left but I will try and make it up to you." Marco held in a breath, ready for the harsh rejection to his apology.

"Padre, I have no ill feelings in my heart towards you." Though, it may have been discouraging having a dismissive father who wanted nothing to do with their own son, Ercole never let it phase him too much. Before Islam Ercole would wallow in his sorrows by sinning, but after he had been pulled out of the deep well of darkness he'd drowned in, things had gotten considerably easier; especially when he had Allah swt to turn, filling that gaping void in his heart with light. "I've forgiven you a long time ago, don't worry." He reassured, firmly.

Marco's face brightened with a wide smile, and he felt as if he was soaring for that heavy burden had been finally lifted off his chest. Even with his lung cancer, it felt like he could breathe properly for the first time in forever. "My Tarzan." He called tenderly, his hand rising to gently smooth out the overgrown bed of hair on Ercole's head. "I like this long hair, it suits you." He added, his hand now resting softly on Ercole's shoulder.
Ercole quietly chuckled, his smile mirroring his father's. He could feel his face blushing at the sudden outburst of affection.

"You took so much after your mother. Her big heart, her intelligence and some of her beauty."

"Only some of her beauty, are you sure?" Ercole questioned with mock suspicion before his father's hand lightly smacked the nape of his neck.

"Of course, her beauty is unmatched, but you took after everything else." He told Ercole, jestingly. "I am very proud of you son, I'm sorry I'm only telling you now." Marco sighed, grinning still.

The Maghrib athan suddenly sliced through the air, stretching in from the open balcony to the wide space of his bedroom. It gave Marco fuzzy chills all over again.

"It always gives me gooseflesh." He said once the athan concluded.

Ercole quickly nodded in agreement. "It's beautiful, even I still get them."

"Say, Ercole why don't you read the Quran to me when you come back?" Marco suggested, intrigue swirling around in his irises. At this point, Ercole had ran out of the energy to be surprised at his father's growing interest, he simply nodded with a responsive grin.

Hence, when he came back from Maghrib prayer, he grabbed his Quran from his nightstand and carried it to his father's bedroom. He almost burst out laughing at how ready his father appeared, sitting upright against his headboard, lightly tapping his fingers on his bedsheet in what Ercole could only decipher as excitement. He took a seat on the chair by his bed and started reading the Quran from the back.