Chapter 10
The House That Never Changed
The box in Zac's hands felt heavier with every step he took.
It was a simple thing—wrapped in dark navy paper with a golden ribbon tied into a crisp knot—but the weight inside wasn't the gift itself. It was the meaning behind it. An olive branch. A question without a spoken answer.
Will he even accept it?
He paused just before the black iron gates of the house. It stood tall and pristine as always, not a single stone or tile out of place. The mansion was timeless in its grandeur—high columns, glass-paneled doors, and an automatic gate that opened without hesitation.
But for Zac, it wasn't inviting. It was intimidating.
His fingers trembled slightly as he stepped inside the open gate, the motion sensor lights flickering on like a spotlight that followed only him.
"I shouldn't be nervous," he told himself. "It's just... home."
But it hadn't felt like home in years.
The moment he entered the marble-floored foyer, noise and music flooded him like a wave. Classical string music played softly in the background, and voices—lots of them—echoed through the tall ceilings.
There were so many people.
Zac blinked, trying to recognize any familiar face in the crowd. But the suits were too polished, the gowns too perfect, and the laughter too scripted. Maybe these were his father's investors, business associates, foreign partners. Their conversations buzzed with talk of markets, mergers, and milestones Zac didn't care to understand.
He clutched the gift box closer to his chest, eyes scanning for someone he actually knew.
Then—
"Zac!"
A voice. Warm, familiar.
He turned and saw Xavier, his older brother, walking over with a wide grin. His wife Nicole trailed behind him, holding the hand of their energetic little boy who couldn't be more than two.
"Hey, little brother," Xavier said, pulling Zac into a half-hug. "You made it."
"I told you I would," Zac replied, his voice tight.
Nicole offered him a gentle smile. "It's good to see you again, Zac. You look… taller."
Zac chuckled softly. "Maybe just a new haircut."
Then came the squeaky voice of the toddler reaching up toward him.
"Uncle Zaaac!"
Zac knelt and ruffled the boy's hair. "Hey there, champ. Been growing fast, huh?"
"We named him Elian," Nicole said softly. "After your grandfather."
Zac paused. "That's… a good name."
Warmth bloomed in his chest, small but real. Elian giggled and tugged on Zac's sleeve until Xavier lifted him up and they moved on, leaving Zac alone again at the base of the wide stairs.
He hadn't even seen his parents yet.
He took a deep breath and continued walking through the grand hallway. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above him, lighting the portraits of long-dead ancestors and family moments that didn't include him anymore.
The sounds of clinking glasses and laughter grew louder as he entered the main hall.
And there she was—Trixy, his older sister, sitting on one of the plush couches beside her husband Zyron, her hand gently resting over her small but visible baby bump.
Four months pregnant. She looked radiant.
"Trix." Zac smiled and walked over.
Her face lit up when she saw him. "Zac!"
They hugged—longer than necessary—and it made Zac feel like maybe not everything had changed.
"You look good," Zyron said, offering a handshake.
"Thanks," Zac replied. "You two—wow. You're glowing, Trixy."
She laughed. "Don't lie. I'm swollen and moody."
"You're perfect," Zyron said, kissing her forehead.
Zac looked away for a moment. "I'm happy for you both. Really."
And he meant it.
But a pang of loneliness still crept into his chest.
---
Later, Zac found himself sitting stiffly at the dining table—one of the largest in the house. It was already half-filled with guests, expensive wine glasses in hand and servers placing dishes on gold-rimmed plates.
He sat beside Trixy, with his mother on the other side. Across from him was Xavier. And beside Xavier sat his father—stoic, composed, powerful.
Mr. Aaron.
The man who had raised him. The man who barely looked at him now.
Their eyes met only once.
No smile. No greeting.
Just a nod.
It stung more than Zac wanted to admit.
He sipped his wine quietly, letting the murmurs of conversation flow past him like water. His fingers itched to check his phone, to find any excuse to leave the moment.
Then, as if the universe heard him—
His phone vibrated.
Zac glanced down. A message from Xavier.
"Tomorrow is dad's birthday. Can you come home?"
The timestamp read yesterday. He must've missed it while distracted at school.
Zac's eyes flicked to his brother, who looked back at him with a small smile.
He hadn't pushed. He had just asked.
And Zac came.
That made him feel slightly better.
He placed the phone face-down beside his plate and reached for his wine again. Around him, the party continued.
People laughed. Toasts were made. Speeches were given.
And Zac just sat there, waiting for time to pass. Waiting for it to be over.
---
The gift remained in his bag, untouched.
He wasn't sure if he'd give it tonight.
Or ever.