"Lucas," the voice on the other end said, calm and steady, "it's been a long time since we last met. You probably don't even remember me anymore…"
Lucas hesitated. "That's not true. I—"
But his uncle cut him off with a light chuckle. "No, no, it's only natural. It's been decades, after all. The last time I saw you, you were just a little boy."
Lucas's brows furrowed. "But… how did you even get my number?"
His uncle laughed again, almost teasing. "Where else? Your father gave it to me."
A flash of discomfort crossed Lucas's face. What a stupid question, he scolded himself silently. Of course it would be Dad. But even as the thought passed, something unsettled gnawed at him. Why now? Why, after all these years, was his uncle suddenly reaching out?
"Lucas," his uncle's voice pulled him back, "why don't we meet? When will you next be at your father's place?"
Lucas stiffened, his tone turning cold. "Sorry, Uncle. I don't have a good relationship with him. I've been living on my own for years."
"That's alright," his uncle said warmly, brushing the matter aside. "Then… are you free today? Maybe we could see each other?"
Lucas glanced at the clock on his desk. "Yes. I can leave the office a little early. Let's meet at 7:30. 'Sweet Delight Café.'"
He had barely opened his mouth to ask about his mother when the line clicked dead. His uncle had ended the call.
---
By the time Lucas arrived at the café that evening, his uncle was already there, waiting patiently. Sitting alone, shoulders slightly hunched, he hadn't noticed Lucas enter.
Lucas paused in the doorway, watching him. Uncle… you used to be so handsome when you were younger. Now your hair's almost all gone. A bittersweet ache stirred in his chest before he shook it off and walked forward.
"Uncle," Lucas called softly.
His uncle turned at once, his face breaking into a smile. He reached out his hand, and Lucas clasped it, feeling a strange warmth he hadn't expected.
"I hope coming here wasn't too much trouble," Lucas said politely.
His uncle chuckled. "That's something I should be asking you. You're the busy one, yet you still made time to see me. That means a lot."
They sat down together, trading small stories about Lucas's childhood, about his work, about life. The coffee between them steamed, untouched at first. Finally, Lucas lifted his cup, took a sip, and leaned forward.
"Uncle… after the divorce, when Mom cut off all contact… do you know why? Did she ever say anything to you?"
His uncle frowned, then sighed. "I don't know, Lucas. Perhaps she was so angry with your father she didn't want to reach out anymore."
Lucas's voice cracked with quiet frustration. "But what about me? What did I do wrong?"
Silence stretched between them.
Subtly, Lucas reached into the hidden depth of his gift, letting his heightened sense of smell search his uncle for the faintest trace of deception. But there was nothing. No lies, no hidden guilt—just the faint scent of old memories and resignation.
"Do you know if Mom had any other family? Any relatives I might find her through? Friends, maybe?" Lucas pressed.
His uncle rubbed his temple as if dredging up old fragments. "Your mother stayed with her grandmother for some time. She also had a distant cousin… but I don't know if you'd find anything useful there."
Lucas blinked, stunned. "But she never told me any of this. Not a word…"
---
To be Continued....