447 His Smart Little Boy

About twenty-four years ago…

Clad in a pinstripe business suit, Lawrence Park came down the stairs with a young seven-year-old boy, holding his small hand in his as they headed towards the living room. "Make sure you attend your classes at the dojo later. Do you understand?" The little boy bit his bottom lip and did not look at his father. "Damien Maverick Park, you answer when I'm talking to you."

"But I have piano lessons later…" His little voice sounded meek as though he already knew what his father would say.

Lawrence sighed, rubbing his forehead as he bent down to his son's level. He stared at him for a long time as if he was looking for something he couldn't see. There was a desolation in the father's eyes, something that Damien couldn't understand whenever his father looked at him. Did he make his father sad?

"Fine. Just today. I'll call your sensei and tell him you'll attend tomorrow's class instead. Happy now?"

Damien didn't know how his father could tell what he was feeling just now. However, just hearing his father say that wasn't enough for him. So he didn't answer.

"What?" Lawrence asked.

Damien pointed his little finger towards his father's inner coat pocket where he always kept his Motorola phone. When his father raised a brow in question, he added, "Call Sensei now."

Lawrence chuckled. His little boy was smart. He thought that he could be a great businessman in the future. His little boy didn't play—he knew what he wanted and he even made sure he would call the sensei in front of him. How adorable.

Left with no choice, Lawrence took out his flip phone and called Damien's Japanese Jiu-jitsu Sensei, telling him about the change of plans. After making the call, he put his phone away and saw the small smile that formed on his son's face. It made him smile as well. He ruffled Damien's hair and kissed his forehead. "I'll see you tonight. Be good, okay?"

Damien nodded enthusiastically, encircling his little arms around his father's neck into a tight hug, and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, daddy."

"Anytime, son." Lawrence hugged his son's little frame before getting up.

The sound of high heels from the side and a woman's voice caught the father and son's attention, "Oh, good. Lawrence, you're still here... I've prepared lunch for you today. Come, Damien, it's your favorite noodle soup too."

"Go, eat your lunch," Lawrence whispered to his son. The change in his expression was evident. Just a few seconds ago, his mood was better because of Damien but as soon as Miriam appeared, he returned to his aloof, cold self.

She took Damien's hand and led him to the dining room. Seeing as Lawrence ignored her as usual, she turned to him and asked, "Aren't you going to join us? It's also your favorite, isn't—"

"Not hungry," he interrupted and then he left the mansion.

There were servants around him but they stood at the side, so he ate his meal in peace. He would have liked it if his mother or father joined him to eat, but he didn't think much of it and continued to eat the delicious food by himself.

"Young Master, would you like some more meat?" the butler asked, in which Damien nodded in response. "Yes, please," he said.

…

Present

After their dinner, Damien and Amelia shared the apple tart for dessert. He topped each of their servings with vanilla ice cream and talked about their lives. He told her some of his childhood stories while she told him some of hers. They kept their conversation light as though they were two friends who were getting to know each other.

Later, they stayed in the living room and enjoyed the bottle of wine that she brought earlier. It wasn't the best wine that he had drunk but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

Suddenly remembering something, he got up from the sofa and excused himself. When he came back, he brought a medium-sized box that was filled with a lot of stuff. "I got this from the mansion when I went there last Saturday. These are the only things I could get in a short time. I'll have to find the others when I can." He set the box next to her.

"What are these?" Amelia wondered before she could peer into the box.

"It's nothing much…" Damien rubbed his nape sheepishly. "Just some old photos of me. If… you'd like to see them. I tried to get as much as I could where Dad was in it too, but he didn't like being photographed I guess."

Amelia's chin wobbled upon seeing Damien's baby pictures. She chuckled to mask the pang in her heart and commented, "Typical Lawrence."

"I… Uh… I didn't have much growing up too. I think I didn't like photos just the same. I'll ask Nana when I go back, I'm sure she must have kept a lot..." 

At this point, Amelia could no longer hold back her tears as she continued to dig into the box full of memories of Damien's childhood. There were several pictures of him while he was still very young, probably not more than three years old. His beautiful face was all she could think of in the past years. The pain was indescribable as if her heart had been constantly in flames that she couldn't put out no matter how much water she tried to pour into it.

It pained her to see those pictures just as much as she was eager to keep all of them. The fusion of pain and joy was ugly but it was beautiful just as well—and she didn't know which one won.

Seeing his mother suddenly breaking down made him feel like his heart was going to shatter. He instantly regretted that he showed her the pictures, thinking that it was going to make her smile or feel happy—instead, she was bawling her eyes out. 'Shît. What did I do?' he worried as he stood frozen on the spot, not knowing what to say or do.

Without much thought, Damien knelt in front of her, then he gingerly stroked her back. However, the moment that his palm touched her, she cried even harder. He was taken aback when she turned and hugged him so tightly.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… Momma's very sorry…" was all that Amelia could manage to say over and over in between her mournful sobs against his shoulder.

It took him a few seconds to respond, then his arms went around her frame. She was trembling as she continued to weep in his arms. He didn't know what to tell her. He didn't know what words would make her feel better. Because while she was in pain, he was too. This was what he had missed out all of his life. And after thirty long years, he had finally started to fill the void in his heart.

Not knowing what to say, he gently stroked her back. Damien was so sad for her as much as he was sad for himself. He tilted his head back and kept himself strong, but a stray tear rolled out of his eye despite him holding it in.