The doctors explained that recovery would take time and that he would need careful follow-up, medication, and changes to his routine.
Marc listened beside his father.
He asked questions.
He wrote down the answers.
He did not pretend to understand everything.
For the first time in months, he found that admitting uncertainty was less painful than he had imagined.
Luc remained calm during the medical discussion.
Afterward, he took Marc to a quiet corner of the hospital corridor.
“Tell me what happened.”
Marc stared at the floor.
Then he told him.
The debt.
The watch.
The argument.
The shove.
The fall.
He did not leave out the part that made him look worst.
When he finished, Luc leaned against the wall.
His face was pale.
“You pushed him?”
Marc nodded.
“He was holding my wrist. I tried to get past him.”
Luc closed his eyes.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Luc said, “You could have killed him.”
Marc flinched.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Marc looked up.
His eyes were red.
“Yes.”
Luc stared at him.
He looked angrier than Marc had ever seen him.
But he did not shout.
“Being frightened about money doesn’t give you the right to put your hands on someone.”
Marc nodded.
“I know.”
“And you were trying to take something that wasn’t yours.”
“I know.”
Luc looked away.
He took a slow breath.
“Your grandfather has spent his whole life being difficult about the things he cares about.”
Marc gave a miserable laugh.
“He really has.”
“But difficult isn’t the same as deserving what happened.”
Marc nodded.
Luc continued.
“We’re going to deal with the studio debt properly. And you’re going to take responsibility for what you did.”
Marc swallowed.
“Okay.”
His father studied him.
“Have you told anyone else?”
“The paramedics know we argued. I told the doctor he fell after I pushed him.”
Luc nodded.
“Good. Don’t change the story to make yourself feel better.”
Marc looked down.
“I won’t.”
They sat together for a long time.
Then Luc said something Marc had not expected.
“Your mother used to fight with Henri too.”
Marc looked up.
“Really?”
Luc nodded.
“Constantly.”
“About what?”
“Everything. Her music. Her clothes. How late she came home.”
Marc almost smiled.
Luc continued.
“She was the only person who could make him laugh when he was furious.”
Marc stared at him.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”
Luc looked toward the hospital doors.
“I should have.”
Henri remained in hospital for several days.
On the third day, Marc was allowed to visit him.
He entered the room slowly.
Henri was sitting up in bed, wearing a hospital gown beneath a light cardigan.
He looked tired.
A cup of tea stood untouched on the bedside table.
When he saw Marc, his expression became guarded.
“Hello.”
Marc stopped near the foot of the bed.
“Hi.”
Henri looked toward the chair.
“You can sit.”
Marc sat.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Henri said, “Your father tells me the workshop is still standing.”
Marc nodded.
“Yes.”
“Did you lock it?”
“Yes.”
“And the front display?”
“Everything’s fine.”
Henri nodded.
Silence returned.
Marc looked at his hands.
“Grandpa, I need to say something.”
Henri watched him.
Marc swallowed.
“I was wrong.”
The old man did not reply.
“I was wrong about the watch. And the money. And… what I did.”
Henri’s face remained still.
Marc continued.
“I pushed you. I could’ve hurt you much worse.”
Henri looked toward the window.
“You did hurt me.”
Marc nodded.
“I know.”
“I was frightened.”
Marc’s throat tightened.
He had expected anger.
The quiet admission was harder to bear.
Henri looked back at him.
“I don’t think you understood that.”
Marc shook his head.
“No.”
Henri studied him.
“Why were you so desperate?”
Marc explained the debt again.
This time, he gave the full account.
The studio owner.
The unclear agreements.
The invoices.
The singer who had withdrawn.
His fear of legal action.
His shame.
Henri listened.
When Marc finished, the old man was quiet.
Then he said, “You should have told me all of that.”
Marc gave a bitter smile.
“I thought you’d tell me I was an idiot.”
Henri considered this.
“I might have.”
Marc almost laughed.
“But I would still have helped you understand the paperwork.”
Marc looked at him.
Henri continued.
“I wasn’t going to hand you six thousand francs just to make a problem disappear. That doesn’t mean I wanted you to face it alone.”
Marc’s eyes filled.
“I know that now.”
Henri looked down at the blanket.
After a while, Marc asked, “Can I ask about the watch?”
Henri’s expression changed.
He hesitated.
Then he nodded.
Marc spoke softly.
“Was it really Mum’s?”
“It was supposed to be.”
Henri looked toward the window.
“I promised it to her when she was young.”
“Did she know?”
“Of course.”
A faint smile crossed his face.
“She reminded me every few years.”
Marc smiled weakly.
Henri continued.
“I intended to give it to her on her fortieth birthday.”
His expression grew distant.
