บท 13: The Ideal Man

One envelope, however, stood out. It was elegantly addressed to him in flowing script. Curious, he tore it open and pulled out a beautifully crafted wedding invitation.

The names "Gerald Gray and Jess Turner" were embossed in gold on the front. Neville stared at the invitation for a few seconds, his mind processing the news. "They're getting married, huh?" he thought to himself, his eyes closing to reel his emotions in.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. "It's just an invitation," he told himself.

"No need to get worked up over it. A man shouldn't be emotional..." He placed the invitation back in the envelope, his fingers lingering on the edge for a moment. He knew he should RSVP, but he couldn't bring himself to do it just yet.

Neville stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the bustling city below. Life went on, regardless of his personal feelings. He had his own challenges to face, his own path to carve out. Gerald and Jess's wedding was just another event, another milestone in someone else's life.

Neville sighed, turning away from the window and placing the envelope on the kitchen counter. He would deal with it later. As he moved, a small piece of paper slipped out of the envelope and fluttered to the floor. He bent down to pick it up and saw a note with a phone number and the words "Call me" scrawled beneath it.

He hesitated, the note trembling slightly in his hand. Emotions churned within him, he didn'tknow what to feel, but anger was winning. Taking a deep breath, he reeled in his emotions and picked up his phone, dialing the number. After a few seconds, a surprised voice answered.

"Hello, who's this?"

"Neville," he replied, keeping his tone brief and neutral.

"Ahh... I didn't actually think you would call! Anyway, how've you been?" the man on the other end said, his voice relaxing.

"Good. I hope you are doing well also," Neville responded, trying to keep the conversation polite but distant.

"I'm trying and coping... haha," the man replied awkwardly.

"Was there an emergency?" Neville asked, wanting to cut to the chase.

"Nope. I was hoping we could talk. As you've seen from the invitation, Jess and I are getting married, and we want to clear any bad history before the wedding. So, can we meet and talk?" the man asked.

"There's really no..." Neville began, but the man interrupted him.

"Please, it's been two years since we last spoke and even longer since you last spoke to Mother. We also have a child. He's a year old. So please..." the man pleaded.

Neville was silent for a moment, the weight of the request settling over him. He really didn't want to but finally, he said, "Alright."

The man on the phone sighed in relief. "Thank you so much. I'll text the address and inform everyone. Oh, and if it's okay, can we do it today at 6?"

"...Alright. Today at 6 it is then," Neville agreed, feeling a mix of resignation and obligation.

"Alright, I'll prepare the meeting. Again, thank you," the man said before hanging up.

Neville took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He didn't know how to feel at this moment, so he muttered and repeated his mantra, "An ideal man shouldn't be emotional, be responsible, don't be petty, be proud but never arrogant," as if trying to hypnotize himself into composure.

After a few moments, he felt a semblance of calm return.

He knew he needed to bring a gift for the meeting that evening. It was basic manners after all. He glanced at the clock, noting the time.

There was still a few hours before the meeting, enough time to find something appropriate.

Neville grabbed his coat and keys, preparing to head out once more. As he stepped out of his apartment, his phone vibrated indicating message delivery. The upcoming meeting was bound to stir up old memories and unresolved feelings, but he was determined to face it head-on.

With a final deep breath, Neville closed the door behind him and set off.

*************************

[6:00 PM]

Neville had spent the better part of the afternoon racking his brain for an appropriate gift. After much deliberation, he decided on a bottle of wine. It was a safe choice, one that conveyed thoughtfulness without being overly personal. With hours to spare before he needed to leave, he took a shower and dressed in a simple yet elegant suit.

By 6 PM, he found himself in a well-off neighborhood not too far from his own, but the disparity was stark. The houses here were grand, with manicured lawns and luxury vehicles parked. As he walked, he noticed the absence of military recruitment posters that were so prevalent in his part of town. "Makes sense," he thought. "These people have more to lose."

He reached the address and rang the doorbell. The door opened to reveal a man as tall as Neville, with neatly combed black hair, wide black eyes, an oval face, a small nose, thin lips, and unframed glasses. He was wearing a cream turtleneck sweater and black pants.

"Ahh. Please come in. May I take your coat?" Gerald asked.

"Thank you," Neville replied, handing over his coat and the gift. As he stepped inside, he was greeted by the sight of three women, one of whom was cradling a baby.

"Ahh... Neville, nice of you to join us," Evelyn chirped happily.

Neville acknowledged her with a nod. "Good evening, everyone," he said curtly, his tone polite but distant.

"You look just like your father," said a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Gerald. Her tone was ambiguous, leaving Neville unsure if it was meant as a compliment or a critique. She had short brown hair streaked with grey, black eyes, and wrinkles that did little to diminish her charm. Her thin red-painted lips and small nose completed her oval face, wearing a white blouse and black pants.

"Hello... Mother," Neville greeted politely, though his voice sounded distant.

The woman in question remained silent.

"Ahh... Shall we have dinner?" Gerald interjected, trying to disperse the awkward tension that had settled in the room.