TOO LATE FOR APOLOGIES

Derek’s fingers tightened slightly around his phone.

“What is it?” he asked again, his tone calm but edged with steel.

There was a pause on the other end.

“Sir, Mr. Desmond… Mr. Shalom’s son has been loading my phone with threats, blaming us for his father’s death,” Steve revealed.

Derek exhaled deeply. “I understand his pain… and I also blame myself.”

“Sir, it isn’t your fault. He refused to accept the compensation money, calling us all sorts of names,” Steve said.

Derek sighed.

“But sir, the staff have agreed to return, so in the next thirteen days they’ll resume work,” Steve added.

Hearing this, a faint smile curled on Derek’s lips.

“Thank you, Steve,” he said appreciatively.

“The pleasure is mine, sir,” Steve replied.

“Forward Mr. Desmond’s entire details to me. I’ll handle him myself,” Derek said.

“Yes sir, I’ll do that right away,” Steve answered as the line went dead.

Derek ran a hand through his hair as he stared at the damaged entrance of his building.

“How do I handle Mr. Desmond?” he muttered as Rafe watched him.

“Maybe by paying him a visit,” Rafe suggested.

Derek met his gaze, then looked back at the entrance.

“Mr. Desmond was the first and closest child to his father. He must miss him deeply… and I’m to be blamed,” he said just as a beep sounded on his phone. He glanced down and saw Steve had sent the details.

“Drive to 27 Palmer Street.”

“Yes sir,” the driver answered as he turned the route and drove off.

“How do I face him?” Derek muttered.

“We will… together,” Rafe assured with a nod.

The drive took an hour before they finally approached the house. They parked in front of the gate and stepped down, standing before it.

Derek took out his phone and dialed the number from the details.

After ringing twice, Mr. Desmond answered.

“Hello, is this Mr. Desmond?” Derek asked.

“Yes, and who’s this?” His voice rang through the phone as Derek swallowed.

“This is… we’re outside your gate,” Derek said.

Just then the door creaked open as a tall figure approached. When he reached the gate and saw through it, his gaze fell on Rafe and his jaw tightened.

“How dare you come here?” he fired at Derek.

“Please listen. I didn’t intend this. I never wanted your father dead. It was an attack and I’m so sorry your father had to pay with his life,” Derek said, his voice laced with pain.

Mr. Desmond’s lips curled into a smile.

“My father had to pay with his life,” he muttered. Then suddenly the smile twisted into a smirk before his jaw hardened.

“You’re very stupid! You put my father’s life in place of yours!” he yelled at the top of his voice.

Rafe walked closer to the gate and slammed his fist hard against it.

“Watch your tongue… before it gets cut off,” he warned coldly.

Derek stepped closer to Rafe and held the hand he had punched against the gate. He examined it before gently rubbing it, raising it slightly and blowing cool air over the knuckles.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine,” Rafe replied, gently pulling his hand away.

“Please don’t hurt yourself. Leave him to speak to me as he pleases. Let him express his pain,” Derek said softly before turning back to Mr. Desmond.

“You can continue.”

“Continue what?! What can continue in this life without my father?! Tell me! What?!” Mr. Desmond pressed.

Just then the door creaked open and a lady stepped out, approaching.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“These are the fools who think they can pay with money after placing our father’s life in place of his,” Mr. Desmond explained.

She scanned everyone, her face slowly saddening.

“Please… we’re sorry and…”

She raised a finger, silencing Derek.

Rafe’s fingers spread over the gate, bracing himself to do the unthinkable. Luckily the gate was old, weak, and worn-out but Derek held his arm.

“Please don’t,” he muttered.

“We lost our lovely father all because of you. A man who always wanted to see his children succeed… a man who was eager to see his grandchild so badly…” she paused as tears filled her eyes. “And his life was cut short!” she cried as tears fell.

Derek’s eyes widened.

“A child?”

Mr. Desmond embraced her, rubbing her head as she sobbed.

Derek met Rafe’s gaze and leaned closer to his ear.

“There’s more to this,” he whispered.

Rafe nodded and they looked back at them.

“His death brought us nothing but pain… and the fury of knowing he never saw what he always wanted,” she continued, forcing back tears.

“Go inside, there’s no point explaining to heartless monsters,” Mr. Desmond said, trying to pull her away, but she stood firm.

“He was the breadwinner of our family… and the most painful part is that…” tears streamed down her cheeks.

Derek swallowed as sympathy filled his expression.

“He died a few moments after my sister gave birth. He couldn’t see his first grandchild before his death… and he couldn’t see Desmond and I in a better place… he couldn’t enjoy the fruits of his labour,” she sniffed, her eyes red from crying.

“All because of you!” she screamed before collapsing to the ground in tears.

Mr. Desmond helped her up and led her back into the house.

“This is so sad,” Derek murmured, wiping his face. He had also experienced losing a father and knew exactly how devastating it felt.

“We need to get through this gate because I don’t think Mr. Desmond will return,” Rafe suggested before punching the gate hard as it collapsed to the ground.

Derek suddenly recalled a memory of Mr. Shalom:

***

Derek sat in his office, eyes fixed on his laptop, when the door creaked open and his bodyguard stepped inside.

“Boss, Mr. Shalom wants to see you,” he announced.

Derek nodded, fingers still moving across the keyboard.

The door opened again and Mr. Shalom walked in.

“Good day sir,” he greeted.

“Good day, Mr. Shalom. I heard you have something for me. Please take a seat,” Derek offered.

Mr. Shalom sat down.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, sir, but I came about my son, Shalom. I want him to quit his current job and join us here. I was hoping there might be a vacancy for him.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shalom, but we have enough workers and I won’t be needing another,” Derek replied, continuing to type.

“Thank you, sir. He’ll continue working there then,” Mr. Shalom said as he rose and walked out.

***

“Please stay behind me,” Rafe said, jolting Derek out of his thoughts.

“Stay alert,” he told the driver.

They approached the door, Rafe in front and Derek behind him while the driver remained in the car.

Rafe placed his hand on the doorknob and glanced inside first. The living room appeared empty, so he stepped in with Derek behind him.

“Hands up!” A voice ordered.

They turned to see Mr. Shalom, a pistol aimed directly at them.