48 Years of Lies,The Husband Who Never Came Home

After my grandmother gave birth to three children, my grandfather left to seek his fortune overseas.

From then on, the only connection between them was a thin trickle of letters sent home from abroad.

Now my grandmother was dying of cancer, and her last wish was to see him one more time. So I traveled south and found him.

White-haired but sharp-eyed, my grandfather carried himself with the polished bearing of a distinguished professor.

I couldn't stop myself from speaking up during his lectureProfessor Dickerson, I heard you remarried. Is that true?

He gave a warm, easy smileI never remarried. I've only been married once, and I've only ever loved one woman, my current wife.

A knot tightened in my chest on my grandmother's behalf. I pulled out a worn photograph.

This woman is the same age as you, seventy years old. Do you recognize her?

He studied the photo for a long moment. Something shifted behind his eyes.

I don't know her. She looks unwell. If she needs help, I'd be happy to make a donation.

I looked at my grandmother's face in the photograph, and I didn't bother being polite.

She has terminal stomach cancer.

She's holding on to her last breath, waiting for you to come see her.

A flicker passed through his gaze, brief and quickly buried beneath a composed, scholarly smile.

Miss, you don't appear to be one of my students, and you don't seem to be here for my lecture.

Before I could figure out what to say next, several security guards rushed over.

Today was a rotating lecture series for the university's top professors. The auditorium was full of academics, and security was tight.

One casual remark from him was all it took to paint me as someone with bad intentions.

The guards seized my arms and pinned them.

I struggled, shouting toward him, My name is Rebecca Dickerson! My grandmother is Maura Swanson! Forty-eight years ago, you went overseas to make your fortune. Do you remember her?

My grandmother has terminal cancer. She's lying in a hospital bed right now, clinging to her last breath just to see you one more time.

If you'll come back with me now, if you'll let her go in peace, I will be grateful to you for the rest of my life.

One week ago, my grandmother had been on her deathbed, drifting toward the end, when she caught a glimpse of my grandfather on the television screen.

Her mouth fell open and she wept, grabbing my hand, shaking it with what little strength she had left.

Sweetheart, I saw your grandfather. He's alive. He's not dead.

I need to hold on a few more days. If I don't see him one last time, I won't be able to close my eyes.

And she did hold on, suffering through every hour. Each time she managed to open her eyes, the first words out of her mouth were the same: had I found him yet.

I wasn't going to let her die with that regret. I did my research fast, traced the address, and found him.

He was a celebrated professor with countless devoted students.

Draped in honors and prestige, he existed in an entirely different world from my ordinary grandmother.

Standing before him now, the injustice of it burned through me on her behalf. My blood was boiling.

Something shifted in his eyes when he heard my words.

It vanished just as quickly.

He spoke in a clear, carrying voiceForty-eight years ago, I never went anywhere.

I never went overseas. I have been right here, in this city, teaching, for my entire career.

I married late. I was nearly fifty before I wed. Apart from my wife, I have never been involved with another woman.

His tone was effortless. His expression, utterly serene. His eyes grew clearer and steadier the longer he spoke.

For a moment, I doubted myself. Had I gotten it wrong?

My grandmother had only caught a single glimpse of him on television before insisting it was him.

My mind went blank. The guards, seeing me fall quiet, loosened their grip on my arms.

That was when my pager went off.

I glanced down at the screen. One line of text.

Rebecca, your grandmother's heart stopped for a moment. Get your grandfather and come back now.

I gripped the pager so hard my knuckles ached, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Then it hit me. When I was little, Grandma used to describe Grandpa all the time, the small details of his body that no stranger could know.

It struck me like lightning: proving whether this professor was really my grandfather would be simple.

I walked toward him, offering an apologetic smile.Professor, I'm sorry. It looks like I was mistaken.

I owe you an apology. I'm sorry for the disruption.

Seeing that my apology was sincere, no one moved to stop me, and I made it all the way to the podium.

Leon's eyes gleamed with a calm, measured intelligence.It's quite all right, miss. If you're in some kind of difficulty, I'd be happy to help.

I extended my hand, arranging my face into a look of gratitude.Thank you, Professor. It's a privilege to meet someone as kind as you.

His right hand closed around mine. Dry. Warm.

I studied it for a moment, and my stomach dropped.

Grandpa had been born with six fingers. Outside his thumb, a small extra digit forked off, malformed but fully functional.

I examined his hand. There were only five fingers.

But just outside the thumb, a faint, shallow scar traced the skin where something had once been removed.

This single clue still wasn't enough to be absolutely certain he was my grandfather.

Miss, I need to get back to my lecture.

I widened my eyes, doing my best impression of an eager student.Would it be all right if I sat in for a while?

His displeasure was obvious, but he kept his composure.Fine. Suit yourself.

I pulled a chair to the edge of the podium and watched him teach, studying every movement.

Besides the sixth finger, Grandma had told me two other things: Grandpa was left-handed, and his legs were naturally uneven in length. You had to look carefully to notice.

If I could confirm those two features, that would be enough.

I held my breath and watched him for ten minutes.

When he picked up the chalk with his left hand, my heart lurched.

I shifted my attention to his feet. His legs didn't appear uneven at all, until I noticed his shoes. The soles were slightly different thicknesses.

His trousers hid it well, but I could see it.

This was my grandfather. The husband Grandma had longed for every single day.

A man who had vanished forty-eight years ago and married someone else.

Professor Dickerson.

I shot to my feet before he could speak.

Professor Dickerson, will you come with me? Come to my hometown and see for yourself.

My grandmother is lying in bed waiting for you. She was already fading, but the moment she saw you on television she held on. She's been holding on ever since. Just now her heart stopped.

Politeness was gone. My words came out fast and raw.

Leon stared at me, disbelief hardening into irritation.

Miss, if it's money you want, just say so.

Here's two thousand dollars. Take it. Use it for your grandmother's medical bills.

He pulled a roll of cash from his pocket and set it on the desk closest to me, then stepped back, keeping a stranger's distance between us.

I stared at that unfamiliar face.

Tears slid down my cheeks, and my voice came out pleading, desperate.

Come with me. I'm begging you.

Think of it as granting a dying woman her last wish. Is that so much to ask?

Otherwise she'll die with her eyes open, and I can't let her leave this world carrying that regret.

It was as though Grandma and I shared the same pulse.

Every instinct screamed that if I was even a little too late, she would be gone.

Panic flooded through me, beyond anything I could contain, and I lost all control of my composure.

Leon stood at a careful distance, his eyes wary, and the security guards rushed toward me again.

I didn't care. I bolted past them like a woman possessed and seized his wrist before anyone could stop me.

You're coming with me. Right now.

People shot to their feet. Security guards rushed over and grabbed me, trying to pull me away.

I clung to my grandfather's wrist with everything I had.

My voice broke into a desperate pleaProfessor Dickerson, she's dying. Just see her one last time.

I swear I won't breathe a word about your life here. Just one visit. Please.

Calm was a luxury I no longer had. I'd confirmed it. He was my grandfather, beyond any doubt.

The next second, a guard wrenched me back hard. Leon twisted his wrist free, his eyes sharp with warning.

I couldn't think anymore. The only thing left in my head was my grandmother's wish.

Professor Dickerson, you've given so much to the world. Can't you spare a shred of mercy for my grandmother?

He raised a hand and gave the guards an order.

Get her out of here. I have a lecture to finish.

Without a second thought, I threw myself to the ground. Tears streamed freely down my face.

My voice was raw, choked to a raspProfessor Dickerson, if they drag me out of here, I will bash my head against this wall and die right in front of you.

Imagine the headlines. Someone dies during the great Professor Dickerson's lecture. That won't do your reputation any favors.

The guards froze.

The auditorium erupted in noise.

What's going on? It looks like this woman's grandmother has some history with the professor.

An old flame, maybe?

Nobody fakes grief like that.

No one left. They all wanted to see how this would end.

I dragged myself forward on my knees until I was right in front of him, seized the leg of his trousers, and screamed until my throat gave out.

Professor Dickerson, I'm begging you. This is her only wish.

He crouched down. He studied me for a long time before leaning close and whispering in my ear.

Do not ruin my reputation. Do not drag my family into this.

I never loved your grandmother. She was the one who was obsessed with me, the one who clung to me and insisted on bearing me three children.

But what was I supposed to do? We were from different worlds. She was illiterate. I was a college man with a brilliant future ahead of me. She would have dragged me down.

I never went overseas. Those letters weren't even written by me. I paid someone to string her along, and that was more than generous. I didn't want her. I was never going to be with her.

I stared at him, speechless. This was the man my grandmother had loved for most of her life.

He hadn't lost his memory. He knew everything.

He knew, and he felt no guilt. Only contempt.

My throat tasted of iron. My chest seized so tight I couldn't breathe.

Fine. Then I had no reason to protect his dignity anymore.

I gripped the edge of the podium and hauled myself to my feet, shaking with furyLeon Dickerson. Professor Dickerson.

This photo is my grandmother. The woman you abandoned forty-eight years ago.

She bore you three children and poured every ounce of herself into raising them alone.

And you? You ran from every responsibility you ever had. You're nothing but a deadbeat. And you're my grandfather.

Three days ago, from her hospital bed, she asked me to bring you back. She wanted to see you one last time. But you don't deserve it.

Since he was this heartless, I wouldn't leave him a single shred of cover.

Now that everything was ripped open, a strange calm settled over me.

That was when my pager went off.

I was about to check it when Leon spoke, his voice smooth and composed.

The same polished grace he'd carried through his entire lecture.

Young lady, you claim I'm your grandfather?

And that forty-eight years ago I abandoned some poor woman with three children?

I may not be the most famous man in my field, but I've dedicated my life to education. I've mentored countless leaders of this country.

The pager buzzed again.

I looked down at the screen, and the blood drained from my face.

Rebecca, your grandmother's almost gone.

She's slipping into a coma. Please come back now. She's in so much pain. She says it hurts.

My heart felt like a fist had closed around it and was twisting, wringing, refusing to let go. My brows locked tight, and no amount of willing could smooth them.

I pressed a hand to my chest and spoke to Leon, my voice shaking.

Since you're this heartless, I'll come back another day to settle the score with you.

Right now I need to get back and see my grandmother off on her final journey.

I turned and walked away.

Before I even reached the door, a figure stepped into my path, impossible to ignore.

A woman in a fitted silk dress, radiating authority.

She was around fifty, the kind of refinement that was bred into the bone, yet wrapped in an aura that was equal parts gentle and commanding.

Our eyes met.

I looked quickly at Leon.

The woman smiled at him and spokeProfessor, someone causing trouble?

Leon said nothing. His silence was answer enough.

The woman turned to me without a shred of courtesy and slapped me across the face, her voice dripping with contempt.

Professor Dickerson is my husband. Do you have any idea how many children who couldn't afford school he's put through their education?

I was starving, all alone, when I met Professor Dickerson at seven years old.

He told me a woman should be strong. He didn't just give me food. He taught me to read, then sent me to school.

He's twenty years older than me. People say he's a dirty old man robbing the cradle, but the truth is I admired him. I married him of my own free will. His reputation will not be dragged through the mud by people like you.

I held my burning cheek. My mind went blank.

Ellie Dickerson had just handed me too much information at once.

She met Leon when she was seven.

If she was fifty now, that meant she'd known him for forty-three years, and their bond ran deep.

Forty-three years ago, Leon had abandoned my grandmother only five years earlier.

One breath ago he'd told me he despised my grandmother's background, despised her lack of education, called himself a man of culture.

He'd looked down on my grandmother as beneath him, yet he'd poured every ounce of care onto another little girl.

So his loathing for my grandmother was pure. Absolute. Without reason.

I couldn't breathe. It was like hands had closed around my throat, and for a long moment no air would come.

Grandma. How could she have loved him that deeply?

Even now, she was holding on, waiting for that worthless man to come back.

I stared at Leon on the podium, my eyes raw and red.

What a fraud.

Professor Dickerson, tell your wife to let me through. I need to leave.

My grandmother was dying. I had to get back to her.

Ellie summoned two security guards to block my way.

You want to leave?

You stir up trouble, ruin a man's reputation, and think you can just walk away?

Frustration clawed at meThen what do you want?

Ellie exchanged a look with Leon, then turned back to me.

Apologize. Set the record straight. Give my husband back his good name.

There are too many important people here today. It wouldn't do to leave things like this.

I had done nothing wrong. I would not apologize.

I turned to LeonProfessor, I need to go back and be with my grandmother at the end.

You're keeping me trapped in this building. Do you really hate her that much? A woman who spent most of her life loving you?

I shouldn't have come. All I'd done was waste time I could have spent at my grandmother's side.

Leon let out a sigh and spoke in the measured tone of an elderBut you are the one in the wrong.

My fists clenched. The last thread of reason burned away.

The pager buzzed again. Maybe because the rage was shaking through me, my fingers fumbled and I couldn't hold it steady.

I fumbled for the pager on the ground, picking it up and dropping it twice before my fingers closed around it for good.

My heart was hammering so hard I could barely breathe. I didn't dare look at the message on the screen.

My eyes skimmed the line of text, shaking, and my blood went cold

My grandmother was gone.