At that moment his eyes flashed with something dark—an old wound reopened.
The trauma he had inflicted on Jerry himself, the one he thought would keep the boy in line forever.
The one he believed would cripple Jerry's ability to ever truly trust, ever truly love, ever truly live.
And yet here they were, Jerry his son married.
Smiling in pictures, Walking around as if nothing had ever happened.
Daring to build a life for himself.
The man gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached.
"How did he do it so fast?" he barked into the empty room.
He slammed a fist down again, rattling a glass paperweight across the desk.
"Yesterday," he hissed, "yesterday, he was just walking around his estate like it was nothing!"
He pointed a trembling finger at the scattered documents, as if they could answer him.
"There was nothing nothing about marriage!" he shouted.
"No plans, no signs, no hint of anything!"
At that moment his hands curled into fists at his sides, shaking with fury.
