Page 53 of Forbidden Desires

The engraved words were simple. Henry’s full name, the date of his birth, the date of his death—just two years after the deaths of my parents—and the following line of script:Loving son. Rest in peace. You are forgiven.

My chest grew tight as I stood there. I’d expected to meet Henry with the anger I’d carried with me for years, so the unexpected sadness and sorrow that coursed through me took me off guard because that was the last thing I wanted to feel for the person who’d killed my parents.

You are forgiven. The words were so distinct. Had he felt guilty then? Had Henry also spent his waking moments thinking about my parents and the lives he’d stolen because of his actions? And beside him, there was his mother’s plot, the date of her death just barely a year ago.

“I figured you’d find your way here, eventually.”

A clear male voice startled me out of my angst and I turned around, seeing a middle-aged man in a fitted, tailored suit, standing not too far from me. The expression on his face was pensive, but calm. He looked at me like he knew me.

And I recognized his face, because it was an older version of the one attached to the reports in my file.The father.

When I set out on this journey, I had pictured every possible scenario. Yelling. Demanding answers. Demanding that they take themselves to the police. Demanding that they let me take my pound of flesh in whatever way I saw fit.

But now that I was there, faced with this man and his dead wife and son, I was rooted to the spot. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move. I had tunnel vison leading right to the man who was, in part, responsible for the death of my parents going unpunished.

“It must be very hard,” the man continued. “I just…had a feeling today so I came here, and here you are.” He paused a moment, the look in his eyes somber. “I wonder if this ismypunishment.”

I swallowed, finally finding my voice, even though it was raspy when I spoke. “You know me?” It was the first thing that came to my mind. Had this man hired someone to watch me all this time? Just to make sure I didn’t find out who was responsible?

“Not in the way you’re probably thinking,” he said. “But there’s a look in your eyes that tells me you have very specific feelings about the people that are here, in front of you. Feelings that run very deep.”

I scoffed. “Deep feelings…right.” That rage finally made an appearance, and I unleashed it on the man in front of me. “What are you going to say to me, huh? Are you going to askmeto forgive him? To forgive you and your wife?” I held up the file in my hand, even as hot, angry tears filled my eyes. “Everything’s in here. The payoffs. The deals. Making the whole thing disappear so that it was just a forever unsolved hit and run. Just so he could go off and live the rest of his life in peace!”

The man tilted his head, a pained look in his eyes as he watched me dash away my tears. “Do you really think my son would be dead right now if he was allowed to peacefully live his life after that incident? Moreover, that I would expect you of all people to forgive him? Forgive us?”

The man slowly came closer, until he was standing in front of the headstones with me. He kept his hands in his pockets, staring at the graves of his son and his wife.

“What we did was to protect him,” he said, and there was no arrogance in his tone, just regrets. “He was just a kid. He’d made a mistake. At least, that’s what we told ourselves. We didn’t want him to end up in prison for a good portion of his life.”

He finally looked to me, the anguish on his face genuine. “But we were wrong. Henry wanted to confess. He came to us after what he did, tears down his face, panicked, afraid even, but ready to own up to what he did. But…when you’re a parent, you don’t think of anything other than saving your child. We wanted to save him from those consequences.”

My mind was only focused on one thing. “He…he wanted to confess?”

The father nodded. “Yes. Gilda and I wouldn’t let him. So, we did what people with money often do. We made the ugliness disappear. It was the greatest mistake we ever made. Henry fell into a deep depression. He turned to hard drugs because the emotional impact of what he’d done became too great for him to bear. We didn’t know if it was intentional or an accident but the heroin in his system was enough to kill him, and it did. I just don’t think he could handle the shame and guilt any longer.”

“He died of an overdose?”

“Yes. In our family home,” he replied, glancing back down at the marbled stone. “He’d dropped out of college and we were trying to give him some space, but living with what he did was…too much, I suppose. Losing him devastated us, and my wife ended up going down that same path. Sometimes I think she started doing heroin just to try and understand why he did what he did. Or maybe she felt like she needed an out, too. So, here I am. The only one left.”

I didn’t know what to say to any of that. Henry had wanted to go to the police and confess, and this man and his wife had stopped him, ultimately leading to Henry’s death. And then his wife’s.

“Ironic,” I finally said softly, sadly.

“Hmm?” he questioned.

I glanced at him, truly meeting his gaze for the first time. “The two lives I lost, and two lives you lost,” I elaborated. “It’s ironic. In a morbid way.”

He stared down at me. “Yet I imagine it doesn’t bring you much comfort.”

I shook my head and answered truthfully. “No. It doesn’t.”

We stood there in silence together. This man had explained things, yet I had no idea what to do with the information. Was this closure? How could it be when I didn’t even get the chance to…to…to what?

What would yelling do? Or issuing ultimatums? If his wife and his son were still alive, it wouldn’t change the fact that my parents weren’t. Nothing would, and I would never have them back.

“I see why you put that on his headstone,” I said after a moment. “Hoping that he forgives himself, wherever he is. He never did when he was alive, did he?”

Slowly, the man shook his head. “No, he didn’t.” He was quiet for a moment, before speaking again. “And you? Do you forgive him?”

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