Chapter 203: The Confrontation

In the next room, Randy and Yana wanted nothing more than to run.

They wanted to find their Aunt Isobel. They wanted her to come.

But neither of them could move.

They had never seen their grandfather like this.

Leon had always been stern, sometimes gruff, but never frightening.

Now his face was twisted with fury, his usually calm eyes burning with an anger that seemed too large for his frail body.

Randy instinctively grabbed his sister’s hand and pulled her toward the corner.

Then he wrapped both arms around her.

Yana buried her face against his chest.

Neither dared to speak.

"You heartless ingrate!"

Leon’s roar shook the room.

"You actually have the nerve to show your face in front of me?"

Julian barely had time to react.

Leon snatched an apple from the fruit basket and hurled it at him.

"Grandpa, no!"

The apple shot across the room. Julian jerked his head aside. It struck the wall behind him with a dull thud before dropping to the floor.

Leon reached for another piece of fruit.

But before his fingers could close around it, Julian suddenly dropped to his knees.

The movement was so unexpected that Leon froze.

"Leon."

Julian’s voice was low. There was no anger in it. No pride. No trace of the arrogance of the powerful businessman who could make entire rooms fall silent with a single word.

Only regret.

"You have every right to hate me."

Julian lowered his head.

"You have every right to be angry."

Leon stared at him.

"I have no excuse for what I did to Rosella."

Julian’s voice faltered.

For a moment, he seemed unable to force the next words past his throat.

"I..."

He swallowed hard and drew a deep breath.

"I didn’t mean to hurt her."

His eyes glistened.

"Back then, I truly loved her. But I didn’t know who I was."

Leon remained silent.

"I forgot her."

The words sounded almost unbearable coming from his mouth.

"And that is something I will regret for the rest of my life."

Julian’s hands curled into fists against his thighs.

"I didn’t even know she was pregnant. I didn’t know I had a child."

He lifted his head.

"I didn’t know about Isobel until a month ago."

The room fell silent.

Julian continued before Leon could say a word.

He couldn’t afford to stop.

If Leon interrupted him, he feared he could not explain anymore.

"I know how it sounds. I know there is nothing I can say that will change what happened to Rosella. Nothing can give her back the years she lost. Nothing can erase the pain I caused her."

His voice cracked.

"But I swear to you, Leon, I never knowingly abandoned her. If I had known about Isobel... if I had known Rosella was carrying my child..."

He stopped.

His jaw tightened.

"I would have gone back."

Leon stared at the man kneeling before him.

His hand, still gripping another apple, slowly lowered.

He had expected excuses.

Perhaps arrogance.

Perhaps even an attempt to justify himself.

He hadn’t expected this.

Julian Foster—the man whose name alone commanded respect, whose wealth could buy almost anything, whose power stretched far beyond this little room—was kneeling before him.

Begging. For Rosella. For Isobel.

For forgiveness.

For the first time, Leon became painfully aware of himself.

He was no longer the strong young hunter of Greenvale who could face any man without flinching.

He was an old, sickly man whose body had become frail beneath the weight of the years.

And yet this powerful man was kneeling before him as though Leon were the one person whose judgment mattered.

Leon’s fingers loosened around the apple.

He glanced toward the corner.

Randy and Yana were still huddled together, watching him with frightened eyes.

His anger suddenly felt different. Not gone but tempered.

"Albert..Julian..." He corrected himself, his voice trembled slightly. "Please stand up."

Julian shook his head.

"No."

Leon frowned.

"I said stand up."

"I can’t."

Julian looked directly at him.

"Not until you tell me you forgive me."

Leon inhaled slowly. The audacity of the request almost made him angry again.

But then he saw Julian’s face. There was no calculation there. No manipulation.

Only a man finally confronting the consequences of his actions he could no longer undo.

"Isobel already explained everything to me the other day," Leon said quietly.

He paused.

"But Rosella was my only sister."

His voice roughened.

"You hurt her terribly."

Leon looked away.

"You may be sorry now, Mr. Foster, but I was there when she suffered. I watched what it did to her. I watched my sister carry that pain."

Julian lowered his head.

"I know."

"I don’t know if I can ever completely forgive you for that."

"I understand."

Julian’s answer came without hesitation.

"I don’t expect you to forget."

Leon’s eyes returned to him.

"I only hope that someday you can forgive me."

Silence stretched between them.

Then Leon sighed.

It was a long, weary sigh—the kind that seemed to carry decades of anger with it.

"I visited Rosella’s grave."

Julian’s eyes lifted.

"I asked her forgiveness too," he said quietly. "I told her I was sorry. I told her about Isobel."

His voice softened.

"And I promised her that I would spend the rest of my life making sure our daughter knows how much her mother loved her."

Something inside Leon finally gave way.

Not completely.

A wound like Rosella’s could not be healed with a few words.

But the bitterness he had carried toward Julian no longer felt as heavy.

"All right."

Julian stared at him.

"Get up."

For several seconds, Julian didn’t move.

Then, as though afraid that the words might be taken back, he slowly rose to his feet.

Leon watched him.

A man like me shouldn’t have someone like him kneeling at my feet.

The thought brought a bitter smile to his lips.

He had spent his entire life believing strength came from standing tall.

Yet sometimes, perhaps, there was greater strength in knowing when to put one’s pride aside.

Leon looked toward the ceiling.

Rosella... I know you don’t want me to spend the rest of my life hating him.

His gaze softened.

So for you—and for Isobel—I forgive him.

Julian released a breath he seemed to have been holding since the moment he entered the room.

His shoulders sagged with relief.

He stood and walked slowly toward the side of Leon’s bed.

For a moment, neither man spoke.

Then Leon looked at him.

"Rosella gave me a beautiful niece."

His voice softened.

"She looks so much like her mother."

Julian’s expression changed.

The mention of Isobel brought a faint, almost painful smile to his face.

"She does," he murmured.

And for the first time, the two men stood on the same side of the same loss.

Rosella.

The woman they had both loved in very different ways.

And the daughter she had left behind.