Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I reached for him, twining my fingers through his. “I clearly may not be the best person to mediate this, but… as someone who—” His voice cracked. I squeezed his hand. “As someone who lost their dad and experienced the worst pain of my life, I see it all happening right here in front of me, all over again. And that—” Another crack.
“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “It’s okay, you don’t have to.”
“I know, but I want to somehow make things better.” Jay wiped at his cheeks. I could see them glisten under the bright sunlight. “I don’t like where this is heading. As much as I hate what your company is doing, I’ve learned through being with Ryan that judging someone based off one assumption or quality or job isn’t always fair. There’s so many more sides to someone underneath all the bullshit we project outwards.
“And there’s so much more to your relationship than the business. Please, don’t let this destroy you guys. I… I miss my dad every single day. Losing him was losing a piece of me. So seeing this, knowing how much Ryan loves you, it breaks my heart. My dad died out there.” He pointed out to the ocean, the waves lapping at the shore. “The waters we’re trying to protect. I’ve learned to push past the shit holding me down, the emotions that were poison to my system, and I’m happier because of it. I need you both to push past this. Reclaim what it is you guys had because that’s special. No money or business or person should be able to tear that away.”
His words hit with the accuracy of a bullseye. Jay spoke all the emotions and fears I had inside me but couldn’t vocalize. I didn’t want to lose my dad, not because of this or anything else. It was just a company, just money. At the end of the day, I could see none of that mattered when Jay talked about not having his father anymore.
But before I could add to the conversation—although I wasn’t even entirely sure what to add with how beautifully Jay said it all—my dad spoke. To my surprise, his voice had a tremor to it. “I’m sorry, Jay, about you losing your dad. I experienced something similar as a kid. My father died in a car accident. He had been the one to start Redpine Global, and when he died, I threw myself into the company as if that would bring him back.” My dad paused. Took a breath. Barreled forward. “As if I could buy him back into my life. It was foolish, but that kind of pain causes us to haywire. We try to piece together fragments of a broken puzzle any way we can, all the while knowing it will never be whole again. You’re right. About everything. About my love and pride for you, Ryan, my only son, and also for the damage I’ve been causing.
“It’s something I’ve been aware of, but I always pushed it away. Thinking about letting down my father.” He turned his icy-blue eyes toward me, except there was enough warmth in them to melt a glacier. “I was wrong about that, too. I needed to be more focused on not letting you down, son. And I can see that I have now. I’m sorry.”
I always knew how my grandpa died. I never got a chance to meet him, the accident having happened about ten years before I was born. Even then, I had been so completely ignorant to the vast rippling waves that had shaped my dad from losing his. It was like seeing him in a whole new light, even after twenty-one years of being around him. “Dad… it’s—it’s okay.”
Without another word, he opened his arms and took me into a tight hug. The kind I’d get when I was a kid, coming home from summer camp and seeing my parents for the first time in weeks. I had missed those.
“You picked a good one. Hold on to him,” he whispered in my ear. I found myself smiling wide, the world falling back into place when only moments ago, it had been turned completely upside down.
And it was all because of Jay. He somehow managed to form a miles-long bridge over the silent ravine that had formed between me and my dad.
“I love you,” my dad said.
“Love you, too,” I responded, our hug breaking.
“And… Ryan… I’m sorry for not making your race. Truly. I’m going to work my damndest to make it up to you somehow.”
I was a little taken aback by that apology. I could have shook my head and stood my ground. But why? Family issues could either be left to fester and burn and spread, or they could be smoothed over and given a second chance to strengthen whatever bonds had been there before.