Page 10 of Return on Love

I wonder how Ryan’s relationship was with his parents. Then I chide myself for thinking about the devil incarnate. Or more like the fallen angel, if his looks are anything to go by. Why do I care? Most likely, he’s the pampered single kid of wealthy parents. No wonder he started a business in gaming without ever having worked in corporate. No other way to get the money, isn’t it?

I peep out of the window, careful to hide behind the curtains. The Mercedes is gone. Good riddance.

Chapter 6

“The ability to speak does not make you intelligent.”—Qui-Gon Jinn

Lunch with Dad and Alex goes as expected. I sit on my chair, nibbling on the grilled fish, while he goes on and on about his work. Many of the stories are from his younger days, the stories I’ve heard him narrate to guests maybe a gazillion times. In between, he takes out a little time to ask Alex about his life. Or I should say his work. From what he says, it seems he’s working too hard but Dad is only interested in that part of his life. Sometimes I think that it’s not out of interest he asks, but because it gives him time to eat in between his ramblings. My presence, of course, is completely ignored.

That’s why I jump a little when I hear his booming voice. “So Eva. How’s your work going on? I read your firm is flush with funds, even in these times.”

I wasn’t expecting it, and I’m a little taken aback by his question. He knows which firm I work for? Wow! That’s weird, almost bordering on impossible. With my mouth full, I offer a quick nod and hastily swallow my food. My brain whirs into action as I consider which client I should tell him about first. There is still an innate desire to impress him, but my seconds of glory with him are already up with his next question. “You made Partner yet?”

I gulp down the last of my fish. “Partner?” That’s all I can say. Who does he think I am? Some prodigy? Given how disappointed he’s always been in me, he should know better.

Alex, God bless his soul, jumps to my rescue as usual. “Dad, it takes years to make a Partner. But Eva’s on her way to becoming a VP. That's impressive in such a short time. She’s doing some fantastic work with some fantastic clients. In fact, she’s here to consult with MooreGames. Ryan’s company.”

Yeah. Alex and Ryan are still in touch. And worse, Dad has met Ryan through Alex. And of course, given how much I hate the man, Dad obviously likes him.

“Ah, what help can he need from Eva? Isn’t he into gaming or something? Plus, he’s doing pretty well, from what I remember.”

“I’m helping them with their future strategy so they’re ready for the next round of investments. If this deal goes through, I might be promoted to VP.”

Dad looks at his plate and begins cutting his fish into small, equal pieces. That’s the way he always eats. In small, equal pieces, cut in straight lines. “Youngest VP in your firm?” he asks, as if trying his best to find something good in what I’m doing, grasping at straws so that this encounter of ours doesn’t become a replica of the others in the past.

I hold the glass of virgin mojito and stare down at it. “No,” I say after a pause. “My ex-boss, Bernard, who is now the partner, was the youngest. If I’m promoted to VP, it won’t be unusual.”

“Not unusual, but still great. There are many, many more who are promoted later than this,” Alex pips in, trying to make me sound better than I am.

My Dad nods, and after a couple of seconds, he is narrating another story that I can, by now, narrate along with him, with all the pauses and the punchlines right on cue. I still give a short laugh after he’s done, as is expected. The rest of the lunch passes with Dad ignoring me and Alex trying his best to include me. In short, like any of our family get-togethers in the past few years. It makes me wonder if everybody’s family lunches are as bad as ours. I try to imagine Ryan with his parents and shake my head. I’m sure it’s not like this.

I leave the lunch table, unhappier than I was in the morning. I feel dull, stupid, and not good enough. Alex’s call after I reach home does little to bolster my spirit. I tell myself to ignore Dad. He’s always been like that. A therapist at our grad school told me that my trust issues stem from his lack of trust in me. She also felt his behavior towards me was like this because I reminded him of my mother. I’ve seen my mother’s photographs, and we do bear an uncanny resemblance. Anyway, that’s none of my problem. His messed-up brain messed me up as a child and continues to mess me up.

I don’t trust men, and I was happier like that. It was because of my therapist’s voice ringing in my ear that I agreed to move in with Bob, and we all know how that ended.

Dad’s also the reason I don’t think I want to have a kid of my own. Like ever. Of course, as of now, with not even a boyfriend, thinking of kids seems a little premature. But you know what I mean, right? I like kids from afar. But I don’t want to rear one. I’d hate to be a parent like him. And that’s the only kind of parent I know.

I pick up my bottle of Pinot Noir and slump down on the couch. Whoa, this thing is seriously comfortable, way more so than the one back at my place in LA. Wrapping myself in the soft woolen throw conveniently draped over the couch, I send an internal thank you to Gabriel, who so thoughtfully furnished this apartment. It’s small, but feels cozy and homey. I’d planned to go out and explore the city in the evening, but now I’m not in the mood. Strangely, I’m not even in the mood for Star Wars. Guess the lunch really messed me up today. I order a pizza, open my laptop and login as YodaPrincess.

I decide on Fortnite. I’ve played this game many times. In fact, with RamBam, one of the gamers I like to team up with, our rate of being the last duo standing has been quite impressive. Suddenly, I don’t feel like teaming up with anyone. I login to Reddit and read what other gamers are discussing. That’s when I receive a ping. A smile crosses my face. It’s RamBam.

“Long time. Where’ve you been? All okay?”

We’ve played with and against each other many times over the past years. We’ve discussed games in many forums. Somewhere during the past years, he has made his way into my DMs. We end up chatting whenever we both are online. Or else leave messages for the other to be replied in their own sweet time. Of course, since past one year, I’ve not been very active.

“Yeah. Just work, y’know.”

“Have I told you before that you should work in the gaming industry and not in whatever it is you do? Work won’t be ‘work’ then.”

“Yup. You’ve told me. Only 100 times before, I guess. I take it your work’s good.”

“Kinda. There’s this new person I have to work with who apparently knows nothing about the work. So, I don’t know how that’s gonna go. Plus, for some reason I get tongue-tied in front of her. Like brain-freeze and tongue-freeze at the same time. Anyway, you met anyone after that douchebag?”

“No. Been too busy with work. Plus, I don’t think I have the mental bandwidth for any relationship right now. I’m starting a new project and I need to focus on that.”

“Cool. Cool. You wanna play? Fortnite?”

“The force is strong with you, my padawan! You took the words out of my mouth.”

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