“But…you had him buried under my name.”
“I did,” he says, and I realize this might very well be the first time he’s ever admitted it out loud to anyone. “I did do that. Seems pretty fucked up, doesn’t it?” My father grins despite the tears in his eyes. “I guess I’m…what, an accomplice?”
“You didn’t have to do that.” The lump in my throat threatens to turn to tears.
“I did. Because one of my sons was still alive, and for whatever reason, he needed to be his brother.”
I turn away, covering my eyes with my hands. “You always…you always liked him better.”
“What can I say? I was an asshole when you were growing up. But I didn’t like him better. I just wanted you to enjoy the things we enjoyed. It was a bad way to go about it.”
“Yeah, it was,” I agree heartily, and we both laugh. “Jesus Christ. I am in such deep shit.”
“No doubt about that, son,” my dad says, and despite everything, I feel relieved.
“I can’t believe you let me get away with that for a decade.”
My father is silent for a moment, and then he looks me straight in the eye. “As ridiculous as it sounds…it was a way for me to have both of my sons. At least for a while.”
I look toward the ceiling and consider the pair of us, each devastated by the loss of my brother, each reacting in what might have been the most idiotic way possible. “Damn, do we need therapy.”
We laugh at that for a long time.
My gut is aching with laughter, but when it finally subsides, I have one more thing to say to my father.
“Dad, remember when we had that conversation about finding a good woman?”
“Yes?” His brow wrinkles.
“Well, she didn’t exactly keep me out of the gossip sites. I fucked that one up.”
“I’d say. That press conference is going to be pretty hard to spin.”
I wave that comment away. We can talk about all that later, but even so, I’m not worried about Pierce Industries. If anything, the extra coverage will boost its stock price.
“The important thing is…” My voice trails off. I’m relishing this moment so much that I’m already nostalgic for it.
“Spit it out, Eli.”
I’ve never smiled so brightly as in that moment.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
Epilogue
Quinn, three months later
The podium is already in place outside of the Pierce Industries building, and Eli—it’s still hard for me to think of him as Eli and not Christian, even now—can hardly stand still. He’s about to announce that he’s been cleared of any wrongdoing by the federal government, which—wouldn’t you know it—takes identity theft pretty seriously, and that all the charges against him have been dropped.
“It feels good to be a free man,” he says, watching the press gather outside.
I roll my eyes. “You’ve always been a free man. It’s not like they made you wait in prison.”
“They could have made me wait in prison.”
“There’s no amount of bail that Pierce Industries wouldn’t have paid, and we both know it.”
Eli shrugs, still grinning at me.
An elevator dings its arrival across the lobby, and I turn to see his father, Harlan Pierce, step out.
That whole story—what a doozy.
The moment they stepped out of his office together three months ago, it was clear that any past misunderstandings had been cleared up—or at least forgiven for the time being.
“Quinn Campbell!” said Harlan Pierce jovially, and I shook his hand with an air of joyful confusion.
“You don’t seem very surprised by this news, sir,” I couldn’t help saying.
He winked at me. “It’s hard to surprise a man who’s known you your entire life.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
From then on, Christian and his father were genuinely close. Once a month, they’ve been attending therapy sessions together. I can’t imagine having to do that with my own father, who has thoroughly enjoyed his life in a small town in Northern Michigan. The last time we argued was when I was in high school and going through a rebellious phase.
“Hello, lovebirds,” he calls now, striding across the lobby. He can’t wait to stand next to his son while he makes this announcement. It’s not likely to be the last of the press coverage about the strange story of Elijah and Christian Pierce, but at least it’s a relatively happy ending.
“Mr. Pierce,” I say, greeting him with a smile.
“Is this one all ready to go?” he asks me, putting an arm around Eli’s shoulders.
Eli shrugs him off good-naturedly. “I’m standing right here,” he jokes.
“He’s as ready as he’ll ever be,” I say, then take Eli’s arm and turn him toward me. I give him a once-over, making sure his outfit is in pristine condition, then straighten his tie.