The Son They Found Too Late Chapter 03
Author: Anna Smith
The welcome dinner ended in an argument.
When we returned to Whitmore House on Beacon Hill, the house manager brought my coat and personal belongings to the garden guest suite.
I had lived there for a year, and the brass tag on my key still read GUEST SUITE.
My mother said the house was over a century old and its rooms had always kept the same names. No one had time to replace a plaque over something so insignificant.
Yet Sebastian’s East Wing had been renovated twice in six months.
The first time, Celia complained that his study did not get enough winter light, so the family hired a designer to redo the windows and reading area. The second time, after Sebastian injured his back in the car accident, Vivienne personally supervised the replacement of the heating system, mattress, and office chair.
I asked the house manager, “Who usually lives in the East Wing?”
“The family’s designated successor.”
I looked at the words engraved on my key.
“Then why am I still living in the guest suite after a year?”
My mother overheard and frowned.
“Sebastian has lived there for twenty-five years. If we suddenly make him move, everyone will think we’re trying to push him out.”
“And when they see me living in the guest suite, what do they think I am?”
Vivienne pressed her lips together.
Sebastian appeared in the doorway.
“I’ll move.”
My mother immediately turned to him.
“Your back has barely recovered. The doctor said you need a properly supportive mattress.”
Celia caught his arm.
“The mattress and heating system were designed for your recovery. What happens if you move to another room and the pain comes back?”
Sebastian gave a strained smile.
“I can’t let Callum keep thinking I’m holding on to a room that should have been his.”
Vivienne looked at me.
“Sebastian has offered to move. What more do you want from him?”
“When he stayed, I was supposed to understand that he was used to the room. Now that he has offered to leave, you’re acting as though I forced him out.”
I placed the key on the table.
“All I did was ask why you publicly call me the eldest son while I’ve spent the past year living in the guest suite.”
“This is a home, not a boardroom,” Vivienne said, her voice turning cold. “Families don’t divide everything according to titles and documents.”
“At dinner, you said the trust was only a business arrangement and shouldn’t affect how I felt about this family. Now that I’m asking about my place in this house, you’re telling me families shouldn’t keep score.”
I looked at her.
“When is Sebastian expected to understand me?”
The room fell silent.
Celia placed a dark green box on the table, trying to end the argument.
“Tonight was supposed to welcome you home. I don’t want everyone to keep fighting. I bought this for you.”
Inside was a pair of silver cuff links from one of London’s oldest jewelers.
Sebastian wore a custom pair from the same brand, engraved with the emblem of his favorite yacht club.
Mine were the standard design available in any of the company’s stores.
“You remember what matters to him,” I said, closing the box. “But when you chose something for me, all you knew was what he liked.”
Her expression changed.
“We’ve only known each other for a year. I can’t know you the way I know Sebastian. Feelings and shared history take time.”
“Does our engagement need to wait indefinitely too?”
My mother answered at once.
“The arrangement between our families still stands.”
“Then why has the engagement announcement been delayed for a year without a new date?”
Three months after I returned, the Whitmores had planned to formally announce our engagement at the foundation’s winter gala.
A week before the event, Sebastian crashed his car after drinking. Celia stayed at the hospital with him for three days, and our engagement announcement disappeared from the program.
Everyone said saving a life mattered more than a formal announcement.
I agreed. I had never blamed Celia for going to the hospital.
But a year later, our families still called her my future wife while she stood beside Sebastian at every important event.
I looked at her.
“If you don’t want this engagement, end it.”
“I won’t demand that you love me because of an arrangement our parents made twenty-five years ago. But you can’t keep calling yourself my future wife while giving every important moment to Sebastian.”
Celia’s eyes filled with tears.
“I didn’t choose him. I’ve just known him longer. Why do you have to treat everything I do as a rejection of you?”
Vivienne moved to her side.
“Callum, your return happened suddenly. To you, you were reclaiming an identity that was already yours. But the rest of us had twenty-five years of relationships to adjust. You can’t expect everyone to change completely in one year.”
“So I’m always the one who has to adjust.”
“No one said that.”
“You don’t have to. Every situation ends the same way.”
Vivienne rubbed her forehead.
“Tonight has been bad enough. Everyone is tired. Get some rest, and we’ll talk tomorrow when you’ve calmed down.”
I watched her for a moment, then nodded.
“All right.”
She looked surprised.
It was the first time since returning to the Whitmores that I had stopped asking questions.
My mother assumed I had finally listened.
“Get some sleep. Tomorrow, you’ll realize none of this is as serious as it feels tonight.”
They left with Sebastian. Their lowered voices carried down the hall.
“Give him the night,” my mother said. “He feels overlooked. He’ll be fine by morning.”
Vivienne did not answer immediately.
“He’s never ended an argument that quickly before.”
My mother sighed.
“Because he’s finally beginning to understand. Callum survived on his own for years. He’s stronger than Sebastian, and he knows families can’t keep score over everything.”
Their footsteps faded.
I closed the guest-suite door and took out my phone. Then I found a number I had not called in a year.
Marcus Vale was the founder of Vale Risk Advisory and my former boss. Before I joined Whitmore Holdings, he had told me there would always be a place for me if I changed my mind.
I sent him a message.
[Is the partnership you offered me still available?]
He replied less than a minute later.
[Always. When are you coming back?]
I looked at the words GUEST SUITE on the door.
[Three days from now.]
