Man Of Honour: Never The Loser, Ex-wife!

Urgent Call

Julian sat straight as the limo that picked them up at the helipad wound its way through the artistically designed driveway that led to the house.

While the Gibsons' mansion was part of an estate, the Cross's home sat regally on a seven-acre estate, with every sort of amenity like a golf course, orchards and a greenhouse.

The flower-edged drive soon opened up to a magnificent sprawl of a mansion that was more than five times the size of the Gibsons’ home.

A bittersweet feeling swept through Julian as he remembered the time he had finally come here to live.

After his parents' death.

Just like back then, his grandpa was standing outside on the vast porch.

Julian got out as soon as the limo opened.

The old man leaning on a golden cane looked formidable despite his advanced age and white tuft of hair.

His checkered shirt, cargo trousers and chunky silver wristwatch only added to his commanding presence.

Eyes that mirrored Julian's fixed on him as if he could not believe his eyes.

Julian blinked back the moisture tickling his own eyes.

He spread his hands with a broad grin as he called, “Old man.”

The still face broke into a grin. His handsomeness showing despite age, Harold Cross bellowed, “You scoundrel!”

Julian jogged up the gold-trimmed porch and caught his grandpa in a tight bear hug.

Harold thumped Julian's back as he hugged him back just as hard.

“You are back. It's good that you are back now. Good. Good.”

Julian was surprised to feel his grandpa's body shake slightly.

When he pulled back to look at his grandpa's face, he was even more surprised to see wetness in the man's eyes.

Guilt tugged at Julian's chest.

While he had been busy throwing his years away for a love that was never meant to be, his grandpa had aged more.

There were additional lines on his grandpa's face that had not been there when he last saw him.

“I am sorry. I shouldn't have stayed away for so long,” Julian said in a thick voice.

Harold waved his apology away as he patted Julian's face lovingly.

“It does not matter. What matters is that you are back home where you belong. Nothing else matters, my boy.”

Julian nodded with a smile. Nothing else truly mattered.

Not a broken heart. Nor wasted years.

He was back. The likes of the Gibsons would know it.

“Come, let's go in,” Harold said eagerly, holding Julian's hand as he turned.

“Welcome home, Young Master!”

The chorus made Julian look around properly for the first time.

Lining up from the porch to the twin massive doors that led inside were uniformed staff of the estate.

Resigned to the title, Julian smiled at them and responded.

“Thank you. It's good to be back.”

The doormen held the door open as Julian followed his grandpa into the massive foyer that led into the even more magnificent living room.

Harold's signature silver and gold was dominant in the expensive decorations and furniture here too.

The living room alone was about three times the size of the room Julian had lived in for the past five years.

Nostalgia hit him as he remembered how his grandpa had tried his best to make him feel at home back then.

Things had never been the same since his parents died, but his grandpa had done his best for him.

Until Julian had to leave. Partly because of his investigation. Then Susan happened.

Soon, they were seated and one of the maids wheeled in a service cart with drinks and confectionery.

“You remember?” Julian grinned as he saw his favourite chocolate-dipped cookies.

He ignored the caviar and pointed at them.

“Of course I remember. What do you take me for, boy?” Harold snorted as the maid arranged the cookies and drinks.

“Master remembers everything you love. Even your favourite food,” a heavyset woman in a purple dress and bright yellow apron said as she entered the living room.

“Hillary!” Julian called excitedly as he stood up and hugged the woman.

“Oh, Young Master. You shouldn't…”

Before Julian could pull back, Hillary started sniffling.

“What is wrong?” he asked in surprise.

“Oh, nothing. I just… oh, I am sorry,” she tried to clean her face, but the tears would not stop as she dabbed at it with her apron.

Julian looked at his grandpa and the latter shrugged innocently.

Hillary gave up on the tears and looked keenly at Julian. “It's just that… Master has missed you too much. We all do. Gerald went home for his granddaughter’s wedding. Wait until I tell him this. But you... you look thin. What have you been eating? Also, you smile, but your eyes are sad. What happened to you out there?” Her words tumbled over themselves.

She dabbed at her eyes again as Julian looked helplessly at his grandpa.

“Women,” Harold muttered in amusement.

Then he jerked his hand towards the kitchen.

Julian quickly got the hint.

He sniffed the air and hummed appreciatively. “Is that goulash I smell?”

Hillary brightened as she bobbed her head. Her ringlets danced along as she said, “Yes, your favourite. Master told me to make it for you. I was going to tell you that. Look at me going on and…”

“That's okay, Hillary. I miss you too,” Julian immediately said. “Now, I know I just have to eat that goulash this instant before I start drooling. I have missed your cooking a lot.”

Her round face shone brightly with pleasure. “You freshen up now. I will set them out immediately.”

“Why would I do that? I can't wait at all. In fact, I can come with you right now to set up,” Julian said eagerly.

Her baby-blue eyes danced merrily as she said, “Oh no, we can't have you do that. Just give me a minute,” she said and practically glided across the floor at a speed that should be illegal for a woman her size.

Julian soon heard her giving the kitchen staff orders.

He looked back at his grandpa with a silent “phew.”

Harold's chest shook with his chuckle. Then he stated, “You handled that well.”

“I still have the touch,” Julian grinned.

All humour was suddenly gone from Harold's face as he looked at Julian and said, “She is right, though. You could look better.”

Julian dropped the cookie and downed his drink in one go.

Harold's eyes sharpened on his grandson. Then he asked in a serious tone, “Do you want me to take care of things?”

Julian's eyes were hard as flint as he stretched his glass for a refill. “I handled it,” he responded without looking at his grandpa.

The contrast between his rightful life and the life he had allowed others to make him lead suddenly made him feel ashamed.

Even his clothes seemed out of place. The messy feeling tumbling in him made his voice come out sharper than intended.

He could feel his grandpa’s gaze on him as he drank his wine again.

“Good to know,” Harold finally said. Then, “Now, don't spoil your dinner with too much drink or Hillary will not forgive you.”

Julian's grin was back as a weight rolled off his shoulders. “I bet she…”

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out.

“Thanks for this, by the way,” he said and smiled when his grandpa made a pfft sound.

Urgent.

The single word dimmed Julian's smile.

He looked up to see his grandpa's keen look and he made his voice carefree as he said,

“Go on to dinner, I will join you later.” He waved the phone as he answered his grandpa's unspoken question. “I need to attend to something first. Is my room still…”

“Like you never left,” Harold answered wistfully.

Julian gave his grandpa a mock salute.

Smiled at Henry who had just entered, then he headed to the third floor.

Harold was a man of few words, but Julian could see that leaving had hurt him.

He had always allowed him to choose his path, while supporting him.

Yet, Julian had left the man all alone to deal with things for years.

“I will make it up to you, old man,” he vowed as he headed to his suite.

The entire third floor belonged to him.

The sense of déjà vu tickled his senses as he entered his room, but something else held his attention.

He immediately dialled the number as he locked the door behind him.

The call was picked instantly.

“Speak,” he commanded in a domineering tone.

“Boss, the president is being a bit difficult with this latest arrangement. The new head of security seems sceptical about working with a faceless man. The president insists on seeing you this time.”

“Bad timing,” Julian mused as he paced.

There was a reason why his other identity had been hidden till now.

That reason was still very much there.

Until it was time, not even the president could force his hand.

A thought came to him and he responded, “Be ready to leave in twenty. I will speak with him.”

“Yes, boss,” the voice responded and the line went dead.