Page 106 of From Rivals to I Do

In our quest to regain some semblance of connection with the world, we obtain phones, a lifeline to the outside, a way to communicate and connect with friends and family. It’s strange how we take such mundane devices for granted until they’re stripped away, and then we appreciate their simple power to connect us.

During that time, I also returned to my house. I stay in the room with the least damage from the storm, grappling with solitude and the memories of what once was. The destruction is a harsh reminder of the tenuous nature of our existence.

Eventually, I decide to move up town, not too far from Amber’s new location. It’s not exactly by design, but a subconscious pull toward her. The proximity allows us to see each other at least—several times a week, offering a sense of companionship that we both needed in the wake of the disaster.

Life in our new reality is far from perfect. There’s no denying the scars left by the catastrophe, both physical and emotional. Yet, together, Amber, Alex, and I are learning to navigate the challenges and find hope in the unlikeliest of places.

It’s a hot afternoon today. I’m putting something together for Amber. It’s very taxing, but I’m doing it anyway. She doesn’t at all know, and I’m hoping to keep it a secret. This one would be a massive surprise for her, giving her a complete 360° turn.

After a routine glass of water, I retrieve my phone to find an email notification. The sender’s name catches my eye, and my heart skips a beat. Felix Freeman. My father, a man I haven’t seen or heard from in over fifteen years. I’m bewildered. How? What? Why? So many questions swirl in my mind as I hesitate, contemplating whether to open the message.

Finally, curiosity gets the better of me, and I open the email. I sit down in the nearest chair, my fingers trembling as I read the words my father has left behind. I wonder what exactly he would be reaching out to me for. The memories I have of him start swimming in. I look at my phone, scrolling through the messages.

Dear Derrick,

The initial shock of seeing his words on the screen begins to fade, and I allow his message to sink in. My father’s email carries an air of profound sincerity, an urgency that compels me to read every word.

I hope this message finds you in good health. It has been far too long since we last spoke, and I regret the years of silence that have separated us. I understand that my actions in the past caused you great pain, and for that, I am truly sorry.

His apology is a revelation, something I never expected to hear from him. My grip on the phone tightens as I continue reading.

I know that you may have no reason to trust me, and my actions are inexcusable. But I want you to know that I have spent many years wrestling with the pain I’ve caused. It was a series of poor choices that led to my absence from your life. I lost my way, and I lost my chance to be a part of your life in goodness and truth.

His words weigh heavily on my heart. It’s a strange sensation, reading an apology I never thought I’d receive. I begin to feel fury, not having any thoughts of pacification. What makes him feel as if he can reach me? What makes him think I would forgive him?

I write to you now, not to seek forgiveness, for I am not worthy of that, but to share something important with you. As you read this, I have been diagnosed with a terminal illness. My time is short, and I have little left to give except my sincere apologies and one final revelation.

My father’s words take on an even greater sense of urgency as I read about his terminal diagnosis. It’s as though he’s trying to make amends before time slips away.

You may be surprised to learn that I was once involved in business ventures that have become incredibly lucrative. I’ve built a substantial fortune, something that I once dreamed of but could never bring myself to share with you. It is my greatest regret, one of many.

I never could have imagined that my father’s message would take such an unexpected turn. He had hidden wealth, wealth that I had no knowledge of.

Upon my passing, a great percentage of my fortune will be left to you. It is a small token of my remorse, and I hope it can provide you with the means to live the life you deserve.

The news leaves me reeling. My iced heart begins to thaw. I find it difficult to grasp the extent of his wealth or the fact that it will soon be mine. It’s a strange and conflicting mix of emotions—gratitude, anger, disbelief, and regret, all swirling inside me.

I do not ask for your forgiveness, for I know I do not deserve it. But I hope that you will find it in your heart to accept this inheritance as a symbol of my regret and my love for you, my son. Life is really too short. Live it well, making profitable decisions. I’d boldly tell you not to be in any way close to what I was like. If you receive this, it’s possible I might be gone.

Tears blur my vision as I read those final lines. It’s a surreal moment, a bittersweet mixture of closure and the rekindling of emotions I thought were long buried.

My father’s email, delivered from his deathbed, marks the end of a chapter in my life and the beginning of another. The weight of his message settles deep within me, an enduring reminder of the complexities of family, forgiveness, and the unexpected turns in life.

I sit there, stunned, realizing that my life is about to change dramatically. An unexpected inheritance from the father I thought I had lost forever. This newfound wealth, tinged with sorrow and regret, is both a blessing and a burden.

I take a deep breath and go through a document attached to the mail. It’s an e-copy of the will. I’m stunned.

I quickly step out of the house and order a ride. My car had been damaged beyond sight during the quake. Within fifteen to twenty minutes, I arrive at Amber’s house. My footsteps echo on the pavement as I walk to the front door. I ring the doorbell and wait, a sense of anticipation building within me. The news I carry is both unexpected and life-changing, and I can’t help but feel a mixture of emotions as I prepare to share it with Amber. Not to mention, I have no idea if he is still alive.

The door opens, and she greets me with a warm smile and a hug. “Hey. . .”

I smile back at her. She takes a good look into my eyes.

“Hey Derrick, is something on your mind, are you ok babe?”

I take a deep breath, unable to contain my excitement and fear. “You won’t believe what has happened, Amber.”

Her brow furrows in curiosity. “What is it? Tell me.”

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