“Yes.”
“Scraped knees? Nightmares?”
“Yes. Both. Sophia has been caring for him.” The name tasted like ash on his tongue.
“So, Oliver is safe. He is being cared for. And you are…” Hugo gestured at the tavern, at the blood on Edward’s hands, at the empty tankards lined up before him. “Doing this. Why?”
“Because I failed him.” Edward’s grip tightened on his tankard. “Because I was so consumed with wanting Sophia that I forgot my responsibilities. Because this is exactly what happens when you let emotion cloud your judgment.”
“A child wandered off in a park.” Hugo’s voice sharpened. “It happens. It has happened to every parent and guardian since the dawn of time. You found him. He is fine. Why are you beating yourself bloody over it?”
“Because one mistake leads to another.” Edward slammed his tankard down. “One moment of distraction becomes a pattern. A pattern becomes a disaster. I cannot afford to be weak. I cannot afford to let my feelings for Sophia destroy what little stability I’ve built.”
“So, your solution is to push her away?” Hugo raised an eyebrow. “To retreat into this…” He waved a hand at the basement around them. “…this self-flagellation? To drink yourself into oblivion and fight strangers until you cannot feel anything at all?”
“My solution is to keep my marriage formal and distant.” Edward’s jaw clenched. “The way it should have been from the start. The way I intended it to be before I let myself forget.”
Hugo stared at him. Then he shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.
“You are an idiot.”
Edward blinked. “What?”
“An idiot.” Hugo enunciated each syllable. “A fool. A man so determined to be miserable that he will destroy his own happiness rather than accept that he deserves it.”
“You do not understand?—”
“I understand perfectly.” Hugo cut him off. “I have known you for twenty years, Edward. I watched you grow up in that mausoleum of a house, watched your father crush every spark of joy out of you, watched you build walls so high that no one could reach you.” He leaned forward, his eyes fierce. “And then I watched Sophia tear those walls down. I watched you smile. Laugh. Act like a human being instead of a statue pretending to be one.”
Edward looked away. His throat tightened.
“This is the first time I have seen you happy.” Hugo’s voice softened. “Truly happy. Not performing contentment, not going through the motions, but actually alive. And you would throw it all away because of one small mistake?”
“It is not just one mistake.” Edward’s voice cracked. “It is the beginning. One mistake now, an avalanche later. I have seen what happens when passion overrules reason. I watched it destroy my parents’ marriage. I watched it drive my mother away and turn my father into a monster.”
“You are not your father.”
“So, everyone keeps telling me.” Edward laughed, the sound hollow. “And yet here I am, doing exactly what he would do. Pushing away the people I care about. Retreating into coldness. Convincing myself that feeling nothing is safer than feeling too much.”
“Then stop.” Hugo grabbed his arm. “Stop doing what he would do. Choose something different. Choose Sophia. Choose to be happy, even if it terrifies you.”
Edward pulled his arm free. “You make it sound simple.”
“It is simple.” Hugo spread his hands. “It is not easy, but it is simple. You love her. She loves you. Go home. Apologize. Stop being a coward.”
Coward. The word sank into him, sharp and inescapable. The same accusation Sophia had made, though she had denied it. The same word that had echoed in his head every night since he pushed her away.
“You don’t know what you are talking about.” Edward rose from the bench, his movements unsteady. “You have never been married. You have never had anyone depending on you. Never had to weigh your own happiness against the welfare of a child who has already lost everything.”
“You’re right, but I know what I see.” Hugo rose as well, blocking his path. “A man running from the best thing that ever happened to him.”
“Move.”
“Edward—”
“Move.” Edward’s voice dropped to something dangerous. “Now.”
Hugo studied him for a long moment. Disappointment flickered across his features, followed by something that looked like grief.
