A Just Cause.

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

I walked up the stairs of the old apartment building; my heart was pounding with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. It had been a month since I last visited my father by now, and the weight of the secrets I carried made this reunion even more nerve-wracking. As I approached his door, I took a deep breath and knocked softly.

He opens the door once again, in the same way he had for decades, peeping through the crack of the door.

"Charlie, my boy, come on in," he said, gesturing for me to enter.

I forced a smile, trying to appear casual. "Hey, Dad, it's been a while."

As we settled into the living room, the atmosphere felt tense. However, eventually, We exchanged pleasantries and spoke about everyday things as if we were just two old friends catching up. The conversation flowed, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he was studying me, peering beyond the facade I had built.

"So, how's work going, Charlie?" he asked, sipping his coffee.

I feigned a smile. "Oh, you know, the usual. Busy, but nothing I can't handle."

He studied me for a moment, and I could feel his gaze piercing through my carefully constructed mask. "You've always been good at handling things, haven't you, son?"

His words sent a chill down my spine. Did he know? Could he possibly be aware of the truth behind my carefully crafted lies? Panic clawed at me, but I suppressed it, pushing the thoughts aside. He was just an old man reminiscing about the past.

"We used to be so close, you and I," my father continued, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "But things changed, didn't they? Life took us down different paths."

I nodded, trying to keep my composure. "Yes, life has a way of doing that."

But then, the conversation took an unexpected turn. My father's eyes hardened, and he leaned forward slightly as if preparing to share something significant. "Charlie, I know what happened with Sergeant Evelyn."

A chill ran down my spine, and my heart skipped a beat. I tried to appear composed, but inside, I felt like a cornered animal. "What do you mean, Dad?"

"I was observing everything- I mean, I'm your own damn father, Charlie! Even though you thought you were cleverly hiding it. I saw through your clever little tricks," he said, his voice stern. He shook his head, his expression grave. "Don't lie to me, son. I may be old, but I'm not blind. I saw the darkness in your eyes that night, the coldness in your heart. You killed her on purpose, didn't you?"

I swallowed hard, the weight of his accusation pressing down on me like a ton of bricks. How could he know? How could he see through my carefully constructed facade? My father had always been perceptive, but this revelation was unsettling. My mind was racing for a response. "Dad, I... I can explain."

He leaned back, his face etched with sadness. "You were always a good liar, Charlie. You've had that gift since you were a child."

But before I could utter another word, he continued. "And it wasn't just Evelyn, was it? You killed your own moth... I prayed to God that you hadn't been the one, Charlie."

My blood ran cold, and I felt exposed, vulnerable. I hadn't thought that he knew about my darkest secret, the incident that had shaped the twisted path of my life. My mother's death had always been a mystery, an accident that no one could explain, but my father had seen through the disguise.

"I was just a child, Dad. It was an accident," I stammered, my voice tinged with desperation.

"An accident?" he scoffed, "No, Charlie. You crushed up too many of those ACE inhibitors and put them in her orange juice. I know you did! You knew she had a weak heart, and you used that against her, you sick bastard!" His words were like a punch to the gut, stripping away the lies I had woven.

I wanted to deny it, to lash out in anger and frustration, but there was no point. My father had seen through my lies, my deceit. There was no escaping the truth now.

"You need to stop, Charlie," he said, his voice filled with concern. "You need to face the consequences of your actions, just like you did with Evelyn."

I wanted to defend myself, to justify my actions, but deep down, I knew that there was no justification for the darkness that had consumed me. However, my anger flared, and I stood up abruptly, knocking over the teacup on the table. "I did what I had to do! I had to protect myself!"

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air. I felt torn between the desire to change and the fear of facing the consequences of my actions. The dramatic tension in the room was palpable, the weight of my secrets threatening to suffocate me.

"You don't understand! You don't know what it's like to carry this darkness inside!" My voice rose, filled with anger and frustration.

My father's eyes bore into mine, a mixture of sadness and disappointment. "Is that what you tell yourself to justify your actions? You can't keep running from the truth, Charlie. It'll catch up to you eventually."

"I don't need your lectures," I snapped, my emotions spiraling out of control. "You have no idea what I've been through, what I've had to do to survive."

He stood up, facing me with a steely resolve. "Surviving doesn't give you the right to take the lives of others. You need to confront your demons, Charlie. You need to stop lying to yourself and to everyone around you."

My mind raced, my emotions swirling in a tempest of anger, fear, and resentment. How dare he judge me? How dare he act like he knew me better than I knew myself?

He shook his head, his voice calm but resolute. "I may not know everything, but I know that you're capable of change, of redemption. But you have to be willing to face the truth, to accept the consequences of your actions." He kept mentioning change as if I had been the one wanting to. What if I hadn't wanted to change?

I turned away, unable to meet his gaze. The truth was like a monster lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce and devour me whole. I had spent my life hiding behind lies, but now those lies were crumbling before me.

"I can't change who I am," I said quietly, my voice barely audible. "I need time," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I need time to figure things out... but until then, you keep your mouth shut, old man. Do what you do best and stay inside, you understand?" I yelled, altogether leaving my father not able to respond.

As I left my father's apartment that day, I felt a mixture of emotions swirling within me. Anger, fear, guilt, and even a hint of hope for redemption. I knew that my life would never be the same again, that I couldn't keep hiding from the truth. Or could I?