Chapter 160 - Am I That Important?"

After he slammed his fingers at the last notes of Rossini's William Tell Overture, Andrew stood up before the crowd with a pursed smile then bent his body forward. A long and deafening round of applause broke from the crowd, marking the end of his rendition.

Andrew felt a sense of fulfillment as he made his exit in the anteroom. A load was lifted out from him and he felt an inner peace which he never had for a long time. His guilt over Cherry's demise was already heaved out. What remained was his grudge with someone in the past which started during his childhood.

He went straight to their cabin to relax but as soon as he stood by the glass window to watch over the moonlit body of the water outside, a wrinkled hand tapped over his left shoulder. He looked at the hand then lifted his head up to see who owned it. Now realizing who he was, he laughed in a derisive tone.

"Why are you here? Am I suddenly that important to you? Or you are just playing innocent?"

The man didn't budge. He remained standing where he was while Andrew stepped away from him. After a while of debating within himself, his voice came out. "Congratulations! You play so well."

Andrew felt tickled by his compliment. How come this man got the courage finally to acknowledge his talent? He saw him every time he performed or played an instrument in school before.

"Why not? Is not my father good in music?" 

A moment of silence was his only reply. Andrew got irritated and just as he was about to drive him away, he spoke. "When did you know the truth?"

Andrew didn't budge. He got lost in his thoughts as a scene in the past played in his mind. He saw his father again throwing an object against his mother. "Why did you spend a great amount for that bastard?"

"It's only a small keyboard he can use to practice  at home, Raul!" Amalia still replied even if her hands were already trembling in fear.

"Don't fool me, Amalia! Tell me rather the truth that you just want to show the father of that bastard that you are giving his child full support in music because it's the talent he got from him." 

"You're just drunk, Raul! The alcohol gets into your head again!" she hissed while avoiding his finger poking on her forehead.

Raul broke into a scornful giggle until his stomach hurt. "My dear, don't you know that those things uttered by drunk men are always the painful truth he couldn't dare to say while in a sober state?"

Amalia stared at him with a sense of remorse in her heart for getting lured into his romantic advances in the past. Gone were the days where she looked at him with pride and admiration in his heart. Sad to say, regret always comes late.

"You better go to sleep rather than letting your craziness rule over you!" she scowled back, gone also were the days where she cowered like a wet chick every time he started to raise his voice at her.

Raul stepped forward and yanked her head by pulling her hair down. His gaze sharpened as he looked into her eyes. "Why, Amalia? Are you afraid that your bastard will know that I am not his real father?"

She placed her two hands on his chest and pushed him with all her strength backward, freeing herself from his grip on her hair with a grunt. "Shut up! You're so despicable."

Raul staggered backward but he regained his balance and came forward to grab her again. "Who's more despicable between us? You spread your legs before a man who is not your husband!"

Avoiding his grip by stepping backward, she retorted. "You knew he's not just a man. He was the man I really loved but I gave in to your threats to kill him if I won't agree in marrying you!"

"So you love him until now?"

_______

Andrew subconsciously placed his hands over both ears to avoid hearing the voices in his mind. The next thing he heard while he inclined his ear on the thin wall that separated his room from his parents were loud thuds and bangings, intensified by the screams of his mother asking for help. Almost every day, this same scene was something he saw and heard until the day he was informed that both of them died in a vehicular accident. He knew it was not a simple accident. It was prompted by another episode of their bloody fights until perhaps his father went out of control and fell into a cliff.

The man saw Andrew leaned on the wall of the room, his hands over his ears. He closed his eyes tightly and slowly slid down to the floor in with his chin on top of his knees. Tears slid down his cheeks as his grimace pulled his brows together. Drops of sweats smeared his temples as he pushed his hands harder into his ears until he groaned in inexplicable mental agony.

The door was pushed open and Joanna strode in. She looked at Andrew first and then to the man who stood stiff in his place. His sweat shone in his temples and forehead and his eyes darted with fear and confusion.

"Uncle," Joanna greeted him first, "how long have you been here?"

The man lifted his eyes and looked at her. He sighed and she noticed his shaking hands which he curled into a fist. She remained gazing at him, waiting for him to reply until he got the courage perhaps to voice out his questions. "What happened? What shall I do?" 

"Uncle, may I talk to you?"

He nodded but his eyes were glued at him. After a while, he turned around to follow Joanna to a coffee table beside another glass window parallel to where Andrew was crouching. Yet, Andrew's pitiful image shattered his heart into pieces that he was compelled to go back to him. Looking at him trembling and perspiring, he dropped onto his knees and reached out his arms to pull him into a tight embrace.

Joanna then heard him say, "I'm sorry, son."