At his words, Amelia immediately sat up, her back rod-straight.
"That is not true!" she shot back.
"And how would you know?" Joshua retorted with a condescending laugh. "You weren’t born yet when it happened. Even after, your mother and father said nothing to you about their respective families. How would you know what they were like before they had you?"
As he spoke, Joshua’s fork pierced into a slab of beef, placing it into his mouth before chewing loudly. He sighed.
"Truly, the life of the rich is so different," he said with a sigh, swallowing his food right after. "Even the everyday meats we see at the supermarket can taste so different."
"Explain yourself," Amelia said with gritted teeth. "What did you mean by your words?"
"Hold your horses, I’m getting to that," Joshua said as he took another big bite, letting out a satisfied moan as he swallowed another mouthful. "This meal feels absolutely sinful if I do say so myself."
"My mom was not a murderer," Amelia insisted, with more confidence.
If Elaine Hawthorne was indeed accused of such a serious crime, there was no way someone like Annalise would have kept her mouth quiet about it. It didn’t take a genius to see that Annalise hated her sister-in-law; if there was anything that she could pin on Amelia’s mother, Annalise would have done it.
"Maybe not in the eyes of the law," Joshua said with a wistful sigh as he finished the last bit of the wagyu beef steak. "But everyone else present that day sure thought it was true."
"If you’re not planning on spilling anything, then I don’t see the need to continue this conversation," Amelia coldly said. She reached for her purse, standing up from her seat. "I’ll foot the bill― that will be the first and last bit of filial piety I’ll be showing as a niece to her estranged uncle. After this, please do not bother me or the rest of my family ever again."
"Come on now, wait just a minute, Amelia," Joshua said with a chuckle right as Amelia turned to leave. "I never said I wouldn’t share the story."
He pushed the empty plate away from him before reaching for the lobster thermidor.
"It takes a whole lot of courage in order to talk about one’s deceased son, you know?"
’Deceased son?’ Amelia thought. She paused in her steps, squinting her eyes a little as she slowly turned back to look at her uncle.
Seeing how he had successfully caught her attention again, Joshua regained his lazy grin. However, there was no bit of warmth or joy in that smile of his. There was a tad bit of amusement, but that was about it. If anything, Joshua seemed as though he was using the smile to mask his anger.
"You said your son is six," Amelia said. "It’s not nice to wish death upon an innocent child, especially when that child is yours."
"Oh, not him," Joshua said, waving the matter off. "Levi is perfectly alive and kicking, much to his mother’s dismay. A real troublemaker, that one."
"Then?" Amelia prompted. Her frown merely deepened. This man was clearly wasting her time.
"You shouldn’t have been the eldest of your generation," Joshua said.
His fork stabbed the lobster meat, the metal scraping against the plate to create an ear-grating sound. Amelia winced, her nose wrinkling in distaste until Joshua finally lifted the fork again, placing the meat into his mouth.
"I was supposed to have a son before your parents got married. They were dating back then, as most young lovers do, and our parents — your grandparents — wanted to see your mother. Likewise, I had a girlfriend."
Joshua chewed and swallowed, staring into the distance as he recalled the events of his past.
"Back then, your dad and I still had a decent relationship," Joshua said. "He was plenty jealous of me growing up, and even more so since my girlfriend at that time was actually his ex-girlfriend."
Then, Joshua turned and met Amelia’s gaze. That faraway look in his eyes disappeared as he raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the seat.
"Take a seat, my dear," Joshua said. "It’s a long story."
"Then make it quick," Amelia said, standing firm.
"Just like your mother," Joshua said under his breath, though his words were easily caught by Amelia. "She didn’t like my relationship with Germaine. I assume Michael already told her the ins and outs of what happened and she wasn’t too happy that I continued my relationship with her, not that it was any of her concern."
Joshua rolled his eyes and leaned across the table to pick up the bottle of wine. He read the name and nodded appreciatively, popping the cork and pouring the liquid into his glass all the way to the brim.
"I need a drink for this," he muttered.
Throwing his head back, he chugged the wine as though it was a shot of vodka, quickly emptying the glass before he placed it back onto the table with a sigh.
"Your mother," Joshua said as he poured himself a second glass, "could not understand how to keep her nose out of someone else’s business. Michael’s relationship was long over by the time this family dinner came about. What’s more, she was his new partner. Yet, she kept bringing up their past relationship at the dinner table and made everything more awkward."
"My mother wouldn’t have spoken up if there wasn’t something already wrong," Amelia said. Her forehead was filled with wrinkles with the way she maintained her frown.
"Well, if only she had just spoken up and nothing else," Joshua said. "As it turns out, speaking wasn’t enough for the great Elaine Hawthorne, not that we knew she was a Hawthorne back then."
He continued after taking another huge gulp of wine, his neck rapidly turning red due to the amount of alcohol he had ingested.
"Elaine didn’t like what Germaine said in defense of herself," Joshua recounted. "So, she decided the best course of action next was to push Germaine. Wouldn’t have been a big deal, except this caused her to fall into a glass table."
Right as he spoke, Joshua gripped the glass so tightly that it suddenly shattered. Shards of glass flew everywhere as blood mixed with the red wine. Amelia’s eyes widened with a gasp as she stepped away from the table.
"Germaine was pregnant at the time," Joshua said. When he looked up at Amelia, his eyes were bloodshot. "That fall took the life of our child. She was already seven months in."