Lie Again! Chapter 62

<Chapter 62. The Scent of Rose (1)> 

 

Tunk.

 

The man who had closed the trunk of the red off-road car snapped his hands clean with a clap. 

 

“Is this all the luggage?”

 

Evan, who had already moved the equipment to the campsite once, gestured toward the items spread out on the ground and spoke. 

 

“Hmm. It’s easier since my grown-up son is helping. When did you get so big? I’m surprised every time I see you.” 

 

Kids grow up so fast, huh? It’s a shame. Saying that with a sigh, there was nonetheless an unmistakable sense of pride woven into it. 

 

Evan shot a playful glare at his father, who was shaking his head slyly, then let out a small chuckle as he hoisted the bag containing the fishing rods onto his shoulder. 

 

Henry smiled with satisfaction at the sight of him striding ahead effortlessly, carrying a load that filled both hands and his shoulders. 

 

By the time the two of them, having arrived at the campsite early in the morning, had set up the tent where they would stay for a week and finished organizing all their gear, the winter sun had already risen high in the sky, driving away the darkness.

 

Perhaps it was worth the trip all the way to Virginia—the wide river carried a winter charm that couldn’t be seen in Florida.

 

The riverbank where they pitched the tent was covered with black gravel, and the water flowing down from the mountains had pooled between the stones, freezing in place with thin sheets of ice forming in the gaps. 

 

Across from them, a gently sloping hill rose directly from the riverbank. Among the bare trees blanketed in white snow, a deer appeared, drank from the water, and quickly vanished. 

 

Evan turned his body to watch the disappearing animal, feeling a twinge of regret. If the girl had seen it, she would’ve liked it—this, not some muddy lake. 

 

Evan took out his phone to check his messages. The girl hadn’t responded to the text he sent upon arriving, so perhaps she hadn’t gotten up yet. He hesitated, wondering if he should send another message, but ultimately turned off the screen. 

 

Instead, he picked a suitable stone from the ground and threw it into the river. Plop, plop, plop. The gravel skipped quickly across the surface before sinking beneath the water. After staring at the winter river for a moment, Evan turned his body. 

 

“Phew. I’m exhausted. I’ll never get used to setting up a tent.” 

 

After wrestling with the massive tent for a long while, Henry let out a groan and leaned his stiff body against the camping chair, holding a beer can beaded with condensation in his hand. 

 

Click.

 

With a lively hiss, the beer foam gushed from the can’s opening. “Haa!” Henry quickly brought it to his mouth, but the white foam surged faster than he could react—about half went into his mouth, while the rest dripped down his rough beard onto the ground. 

 

Evan, attaching a small fish-shaped lure to the end of his fishing line, shook his head with a glance at the scene.

 

“Is it really okay for a lawyer to grow a beard like that?”

 

Henry brushed the beer droplets off his chin with his hand and shrugged at Evan’s question.

 

“My clients say a beard suits me just fine. Of course, that’s because I’m so good-looking.”

 

Evan let out a huff of air through his mouth at the man’s shameless remark.

 

Yet Evan knew there was some truth to his words. Healthy, sun-kissed skin, a well-maintained body with no loose flesh, a broad, masculine chest, and a thick neck. Above it, a smooth jawline extended, sharply angling at the end.

 

On the angular jaw, short brown stubble covered the entire lower face. The thickly grown beard gave off a rugged yet free-spirited impression.

 

His colleagues jokingly called him a “snowbird” in the winter. A man who seemed like he’d spend the whole year sailing yachts on the sea.

 

And considering that man’s actual job was as a lawyer at a major New York firm, it was obvious that he must have no shortage of clients using cases as an excuse to get in touch with him. 

 

And Henry enjoyed being seen as an attractive man. He didn’t even bother hiding the fact that he enjoyed it.

 

He would often casually reveal Evan’s existence around the second meal with a date, as if making a surprise announcement. People’s eyes would widen at the fact that a man who looked like he might be in his mid-thirties already had a full-grown seventeen-year-old son. 

 

On days like that, Henry would call Evan, laughing as he bragged about it like a funny little joke. Between the long distance of New York and Florida, and his busy work at the law firm, the one week each winter when Evan actually saw his father’s face was all they got in a year.

 

He often blurted out his voice like this. Evan quite enjoyed his father’s phone calls, which were filled with pointless ramblings. Hearing his cheerful, hearty laugh on the other end of the line made him feel lighter. 

 

At the end of each brief call, Henry always added a farewell: “I love you, son.”

 

He couldn’t exactly be called a good parent, but at least he was a father who felt like a friend. If New Year’s with his mother, Jacqueline, always felt tedious, the winters spent with Henry were something to look forward to—enough that he joined in on the winter fishing trips every year, even if he didn’t particularly enjoy them.

 

“How’s your mother these days?”

 

Henry, who had been slowly reeling in his line cast deep into the riverbed, suddenly spoke up. 

 

“Yeah, she’s doing well. I think she’s been seeing that French guy again lately.” 

 

Evan spoke, recalling the mother he had seen over New Year’s. From time to time, his father would ask about her. Though his questions seemed casual, Evan knew that Henry was hiding concern beneath them. 

 

Each time, Evan snorted inwardly. A white woman with more money than she could ever spend in a lifetime, looks to match, and a solid support system—where couldn’t she thrive? The worry his father felt for his ex-wife, who seemed capable of living well even off the face of the Earth rather than just in Europe, struck him as ridiculous. 

 

“How about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

 

Henry quietly nodded at Evan’s answer, then suddenly gestured playfully toward his son with his chin. 

 

This was another one of those questions a father, living far away, would ask out of curiosity about his son’s private life—as if trying to fill the gap left by the time they spent apart.

 

Whenever Henry playfully pressed him, Evan would always respond with a small smile, silently meeting his father’s gaze. Henry would then laugh heartily and pat Evan on the shoulder, adding, “That’s my son, after all.”

 

It was a familiar pattern—one that had begun when he was in middle school and had continued every year, just the two of them. But for the first time, Evan thought of someone in response to Henry’s question.

 

Fairer than pale, with skin that seemed luminous and clear; a calm face that carried a slightly cool, indifferent air; hair that flowed smoothly with every movement, like it was dancing; and eyes as dark as a snow-covered pond. 

 

If Henry were to see her, he would probably like her immediately. Not only strikingly beautiful wherever she went, but also intelligent, with a steady gaze, attentive to the world around her, and well-mannered—there were few people like that in the world. 

 

If anyone disliked her, it was likely that they were the strange ones. And Henry was not a strange person.

 

Evan pictured Henry breaking into a hearty laugh at Jin, while she stood there frozen, tense and rigid—and he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. 

 

At the same time, he felt a very unfamiliar emotion. The urge to immediately tell his father about the girl and the excitement that came with it felt utterly strange. 

 

Why?

 

Why, this time, could he not simply respond with a silent smile, letting Henry’s proud laughter carry the question past? There had always been someone by his side.

 

Why he wanted to boast about Jin, why he wished she could meet Henry, why she kept lingering in his thoughts—he couldn’t shake any of it.

 

What was so different about her?

 

“A casual relationship is fine.”

 

Just as Evan was feeling confused, Henry spoke up.

 

“Son, your popularity comes from me. When I was your age, there wasn’t a single person in the neighborhood who didn’t know me. Even the next neighborhood over had heard the rumors that I was trouble.” 

 

Henry winked mischievously.

 

“Women were wary of me, but if I rang the doorbell with a smile, they’d let me in. Back then, I was even younger and better-looking than I am now.” 

 

“This is boring, Dad.”

 

Evan rolled his eyes at his father’s tales, which he had heard countless times. Having given up on catching the unusually still fish today, he set down his fishing rod and sat back. 

 

Henry, still staring at the river, slowly reeled in and cast his line again and again, waiting for a blind bass to bite the lure, drifting gently like a small fish. 

 

“And then I met Jacqueline.”

 

His father, who had been quietly moving his hands, spoke again. Hearing his mother’s story for the first time, Evan stared at his father’s back.

 

“There was a tall wall on the outskirts of the neighborhood where I grew up. The gray wall was so high that you couldn’t see inside from the outside.”

 

His hands, busily reeling in the line, paused as if lost in thought. The plastic lure, mimicking a fish, drifted slowly with the current before snagging on the line and circling in place. 

 

“All I could tell was that the family drove luxury sedans in and out, and that there were plenty of roses blooming beyond the wall.”

 

Even just passing by the area, the scent of roses was strong enough to be noticeable. 

 

His father’s voice continued slowly.

 

The tall wall separating the neighborhood from the house was something of a landmark. Everyone in the area knew who owned that house.

 

James Warren, CEO of Warren Insurance, and his family.

 

Naples was a well-off area in its own right, but it wasn’t the kind of place where the CEO of a well-known company would live.

 

Why he chose to settle here was unclear, but Warren had erected a massive wall like a boundary and didn’t interact with anyone else.

 

As a result, the neighborhood was full of rumors surrounding the Rose Mansion—tales mixed with envy and jealousy, like the wife having lost her mind, the son having a criminal record, or the daughter being a bit slow.

 

It was of little concern to Henry. Even if he was curious about what lay beyond the wall, he found playing with girls far more interesting than the stuffy mansion of a wealthy family.

 

The reason he eventually found himself standing at the base of the Rose Mansion’s wall was a bet—a challenge to see who could climb the wall barehanded and bring back a rose. 

 

Friends, newly of age and full of youthful vigor, didn’t care that it was trespassing or that it could be considered a crime; they used it as a way to test each other’s courage and audacity. 

 

“Henry! You won’t be able to do this either! That wall—there isn’t a single foothold!” 

 

Brody, having just failed his third attempt at climbing the wall, shook his sore hands and said.