"A couple of weeks before I met your mother I had joined the service. When the summer was over, I had to report to basic training. The plan was for me to visit her when I was home on leave. It wasn't a great romance, but it could have been. Your mother was an easy person to like. I think if I could have fallen in love with a woman, it would have been Lara."
Will's eyebrows drew together. "I thought you were married."
"Divorced."
"You didn't love your wife?"
Wilson could barely stand her, but he wasn't sure now was the time to admit that. Instead, he shook his head and said, "It was a political marriage arranged by my father."
"I don't understand," Will said. "If you were going to marry a woman, then why didn't you just marry my mother?"
"This is a really long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?"
Will nodded.
"While serving in the Air Force, I was injured fighting in Iraq when my helicopter went down. While I was in the hospital recovering, I received a letter." Wilson reached into his briefcase and pulled out an old and faded letter. He held it out to Will. "I wasn't heartbroken that your mother wanted nothing to do with me, but I was saddened. She told me she'd met someone and they were getting married. She asked that I never contact her again. Under the circumstances, I understood and did as she asked."
Will carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. He hadn't been reading for more than a few seconds before he shook his head. "This isn't my mother's handwriting."
"No, I know that. At least, I do now." Wilson pulled his second piece of evidence out of his briefcase and handed it over to Will. "A couple of years after I got back from overseas, I saw your mother on the street. I wanted to go say hi to her, to let her know I held no ill feelings toward her and wished her well. My father stopped me."
Will's upper lip curled back as he growled.
Wilson could fully understand the man's anger, although he doubted it rivaled his own. He hated his father with a passion that went all the way down to his soul. "My father took me to his office and handed me that. It's a copy of a money transfer for two million dollars to your mother's account. He explained to me that he'd written the letter because he hadn't wanted to tell me she had blackmailed my family for money."
Will tossed the papers onto the coffee table. "My mother wouldn't do that."
"I also know that, or at least I learned that once my father passed away. In his last will and testament, he left a video where he admitted everything he had done. Two million dollars were paid, but it went to my ex-wife as payment for marrying me. Not your mother, as I had been told."
"Is that why you divorced her?"
"It's one of the reasons." There were really too many to list. "That's when I learned of your existence. I started looking for you the moment my divorce was final."
"Why did you wait until then?" Hector asked, speaking for the very first time since they sat down. "Why not start looking for Will immediately?"
"Jillian took a two-million-dollar payout just to marry me. The woman is a soul-sucking bitch from hell. There's no telling what she would do if she ever discovered I had a son."
Wilson shuddered just thinking about it.
"If she's so horrible, then why did you marry her?" Hector asked.
"I was just starting my political career, and Jillian came from a good family well established in the Washington, D.C. political world. My father convinced me that I needed someone like her, someone who was experienced in the life of a political family, at my side if I had any hope of winning an election." Wilson shrugged. "It was a long time ago, back when being gay did not get you a seat in the Senate. I caved to the pressure."
That was all on him, and he knew it. He'd been young and stupid. It wasn't much of an excuse, but it was the only one he had at the moment.
"Your parents told my mother you had died in the service," Will whispered as tears sprang to his eyes. "She died thinking you were dead, thinking she was leaving me all alone in the world because your parents refused to even acknowledge I was alive. I spent six years moving from foster home to foster home until I turned eighteen and they kicked me out onto the street."
Wilson pressed his lips together, unsure of what to say. He wasn't even sure there was something to say. Will's life had been hell when it didn't need to be. He should have gone to the best schools, had the best opportunities. He should have grown up with a family that loved him and wanted him.
Wilson needed to say something. Will deserved it. He leaned forward and clasped his hands together, letting them dangle between his knees. "I wish I could go back and make everything all right, but I can't. What happened, happened, and we can't change that, no matter how much we might want to."
He felt as if he was losing whatever ground he might have gained with Will, but these things had to be said. They had to clear the air between them if there was any hope of building something new, something better.
"I'm sorry my parents did this to you and your mother. If I had known about you, your life would have been a lot different. Our lives would have been different."
Tears started to slide down Will's cheeks. "You think saying you're sorry will make everything okay?"
"No, I—"
