The Message
"Please do come again," I said, smiling at the customer as she collected her coffee and left the counter.
As she walked towards the exit, I couldn't help but notice her figure. Damn, she's attractive, but it's not like I'm ever going to date her.
She was the last customer of the day, and when I glanced at the clock, it was already midnight, signaling that it was time to close the café.
After swiftly tidying up the shop and checking the locks on the back door, I locked the front door and headed towards the parking lot where my motorcycle was parked.
The parking lot was silent and deserted, which was not unusual for this part of the city, reminiscent of the countryside. People here retire early and the streets are empty after midnight.
I was accustomed to the silence and darkness, so it didn't bother me.
Donning my helmet, I started my motorcycle and sped away from the café.
If anyone asked me my favorite time of day, I would say after midnight. Why? Because it is the only time I feel truly alive. With no traffic, I can ride my bike at my favorite speed and enjoy the moon shining brightly above, illuminating the surroundings. What more could I ask for than to enjoy this beautiful night scene?
As I was riding, I felt a vibration in my pocket. It must be Aunt Nicky, probably calling to check when I'm coming home. I should reply, or she'll panic.
Stopping my motorcycle at the corner of the road, I pulled out my phone and looked at the message.
To my surprise, it wasn't from Aunt Nicky but from an unknown number.
Clicking on the message, I read the text and couldn't help but wonder if it was a joke.
The message read:
[Master Lucas, this is your father's butler, Rudolph, speaking. Although I don't know how you will take this, unfortunately, this morning, your father, Sir Joseph Hankson, passed away. Before he died, he handed me his will, which states that you will receive 50% of his company's shares, The Hankson Group. The shareholders' meeting is on June 17th, which is in five days, and you need to be present in London. Lady Emma has already made preparations for your arrival. Tomorrow, one of our employees will visit your house with the tickets. Farewell, Master Lucas. We await your arrival.]
_____
When I was nine years old, my mother and father divorced. After that, my father left us and moved abroad without informing either of us.
Following his departure, my mother became depressed and turned to alcohol. One night, perhaps overwhelmed by the regret of her failed marriage, she came to my room and began to strangle me. By some stroke of luck, my Aunt Nicky was there that night. Hearing my muffled screams, she came to my room and rescued me.
That night was a long one.
Afterward, my mother was sent to rehab for her addiction, and I went to live with my Aunt Nicky, a beautiful and kind woman.
A month later, we received news from the rehabilitation center that my mother had committed suicide by cutting her wrists.
Though she was my mother, I didn't feel any pain at her death. The only person who cried was my aunt, who held me all night, sobbing, while I gently caressed her.
People might say, "Aren't you angry at your dad? Because of him, your life became so miserable. Because of him, your mother wanted to kill you. Because of him, your mother committed suicide!" I know there are many allegations against my father that might hold some truth.
But the reality is, I don't resent my dad, nor my mom. They tried to live together, but it didn't work out. It wasn't anyone's fault; they just weren't compatible.
What they did in Their life is on them.
Although I don't remember much, I do recall that my dad used to love me very much, even more than my mom.
That's why I was sad when he left the country. I expected he would at least come and say goodbye to me.
But what can I say? Expectations often lead to disappointment. It's just life, and I've accepted it.
But now, seeing this message has left me confused about so many things.
Why, after so many years, am I hearing about my father only now, and when he's no longer alive?