I calmly lifted my spoon and took another sip of soup before looking up at Grant. "Go ahead," I said evenly. "What is it you want to talk about?"
He sat across from me, shoulders slightly slumped, the usual pride in his posture gone. "I know I've spoiled Lincy," he began quietly. "And I know I've neglected you and your mother all these years. I understand why you resent me."
For once, he didn't meet my eyes. Grant, the man who always spoke with authority and confidence, now looked smaller somehow.
"The mistakes I've made," he continued, his voice low, "have brought nothing but misery to your mother and to me."
I set my spoon down gently. "Isn't that your own doing?"
He didn't argue. "Yes," he admitted with a heavy sigh. "That's why no matter how much your mother looks down on me or how much she hates me, I can bear it. I truly want to make things right. I can let go of Monica… but Lincy…" His voice softened. "She's my flesh and blood."
