"Your father isn't well, Robert," she informed him as he shook his head at her, sitting down on the sofa outside of the room which his father was located in. He had removed his black jacket, dropping it over the arm of the leather sofa as people rushed about him, shouting out numbers and talking about things which were of no importance to Robert at that moment in time.

"I am aware," Robert said back to her, the arrogance in his voice coming through as she bit down on her bottom lip, trying to control her temper with him as he remained looking down into his hands which were holding the iced water he had asked for.

"Why don't you just go in and see him?" she suggested to him and he looked at her, his eyes glaring at hers as he shook his head quickly, unable to go back into the room after what had just happened. He had thrown the photo onto the floor as if it meant nothing. It was as if he didn't even care about him. It hurt Robert. It always had hurt Robert.

"I can't," he whispered back to her and she sighed, her hand tucking her brown hair behind her ears as she did so. "He doesn't care about me, Jenny. He never has."

"I doubt that's true," she promised him, her hand curling around his arm as she moved closer to him and he allowed his head to fall downwards. "He just...he does love you, Robert. He's your father."

"Do you honestly think that means anything?" Robert asked her, his voice low and slightly harsh as he looked at her. He knew that it wasn't her fault. None of it was her fault. "Do you think that he cares about me?"

"He has to," Jenny replied, her voice low and pleading with him as she took hold of his wrist before Peter Browning looked on at the couple. He coughed once, distracting Robert's attention as he shook his head at his godson, telling him that it wasn't looking good. Maurice wasn't going to recover. They all knew that.

"Your father isn't very well, Robert," Peter whispered lowly and Robert knew that he was being summoned to the room where his father was being kept. Jenny squeezed his hands tightly as he placed his water onto the table, kissing him on the cheek hastily as he stood up, straightening his tie out as he followed Maurice into the room and Jenny remained seated, waiting patiently until he came back out again.

...

"I'm supposed to feel something, aren't I?" Fischer checked with Jenny as he sat in the back of his car with her by his side, his hands resting in his lap as he thought about what he had just been through. "He was my father...but...I feel nothing, Jenny. I feel nothing at all."

"I know," Jenny said. She didn't know anything which he was going through. She had never had this type of relationship with her parents. They both loved her unconditionally. And then, she had met Robert. She had met him and seen how he knew nothing about love. He was cold and calculating. At first, she had wondered if he would ever open up to her. Then she had found out. She'd seen why he was how he was when she met Maurice Fischer.

"You don't, Jenny," Robert promised her, taking hold of her hand and kissing the back of it. "I've met your parents. I only wish my own father had been more like them."

"I know you do," she assured him, sliding as close to him as she possibly could and he shook his head again, smiling in disbelief as he did so. "You just need to remember the good times."

"Do you think I had many of them?" he asked, continuing to smirk at her naivety as she bit the inside of her cheek. "My mother died when I was eleven...after that...there was nothing, Jen. There was nothing at all. I hate him for that."

"Don't speak like that, Robert," she begged of him and he shook his head quickly like a petulant child would do and he looked into her brown eyes hastily.

"You met him, Jenny," he said hastily. "You know how he felt. You know he wanted you to sign the prenuptial. He's never cared about anything apart from his money."

"Don't bring the prenuptial into this, Robert," she demanded from him. "He wanted to protect you and make sure your inheritance was kept safe."

"No," Robert defied her. "He thought you were some cheap little accountant who was after me for my money."

"He could have been right," she informed him. "He was looking out for you. I said I would sign the prenuptial. It doesn't mean anything to me."

"It should do," he challenged her. "I don't want you to sign it anyway."

"Well, whatever," Jenny shrugged nonchalantly. "Now isn't the time to discuss it. You've just lost your father."

"Yes...well..." Robert coughed as he looked out of the window and to the sights which passed him by. "I've been thinking about moving now that my father is gone."

"Oh?" Jenny wondered. That was the problem with Robert. He was also so secretive with Jenny. He kept his emotions so guarded that she didn't think he knew how to feel sometimes. She cared deeply for him, craving intimacy, but, he didn't. He liked to keep his distance.

"Back to America," he whispered to her. "There is nothing here for me except bad memories."

"Are you sure?" Jenny whispered. "You've only just lost your father. You can't be making brash decisions."

"I'm not," he denied again, his stubborn streak showing through as he did so. Jenny sighed again, taking her time to listen to him as he rubbed his chin with his hand. "I've thought long and hard about this, Jenny."

"You fly out to California in a few days, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Think about it whilst you're gone," she appealed to him. "It's a big thing, Robert."

"It isn't really," he shrugged off. "I don't need to worry about the money. I can manage the move."

"And where do I fit in all of your plans?" Jenny enquired from him and he looked down at her as if the answer was dead simple and staring her in the face.

"You'll be coming with me," he stated.

"Will I?" she wondered aloud and he nodded at her. "Didn't you even think to ask me how I felt about this?"

"I...I..." Robert trailed off, shaking his head as he did so. He didn't think to ask her. He assumed she would just come with him. Jenny rolled her eyes, pulling away from him as she did so and the car drew to a halt outside of her apartment building. She looked at him for a moment and shook her head sadly.

"I'm sorry for what happened to your father, Robert," she promised and he remained silent, watching and listening with intent. "But...there are sometimes when you are so selfish and controlling that I don't know what to think about you."

"Don't say that," Robert demanded from her, his voice slightly pleading as he said it. "I'm nothing like him."

"Perhaps not in some qualities," Jenny agreed. "But you're both certainly stubborn."

He listened to her words over and over again as the car drove off from her apartment and he shook his head, realising that he didn't want to be like him. He didn't want to be anything like his father. But, maybe, there were some things which he couldn't change.