“How did I still get the job even though you sabotaged it for me?” I asked, injecting my voice with sweetness.
“Listen…Willow. I’mnotgoing to apologize for that. It was a crappy job offer. It was the right decision.”
Not a hint of chagrin entered his voice. I rolled my eyes.
“The right decision foryou, Miles. Not for me.”
“I did it for your own good. It’s time for you to stop messing around and get serious about your life.”
Not even an apology.
My breath left my body as a deep-rooted anger threatened to surface.
I hated being angry.
In fact, ever since the shift in the household after mymother died, I’d actively sought out happiness. I always tried to look at the sunny side of things and did my best to act as peacemaker between my father and Miles when things got tough. Maybe that was the real reason Miles never wanted me to follow my dream—he liked when I was home to temper his sharp edges and bring some joy into his miserable existence.
Okay, that wasn’t fair. He wasn’t miserable. Just a very dedicated, focused, and determined older brother who insisted on trying to run my life on some misguided notion that he knew more about what I needed than I did.
I think, beyond anything, that was the most infuriating part. The simple fact that Miles refused to recognize or understand that I could be trusted to know what was best formyfuture. Every time he shot down my dream, it was as though he was calling me stupid or infantile because I hadn’t yet had success. Life came easily for Miles, well, easily enough, and he’d been running his own in-demand construction firm for years. There was no room for error in Miles’s exacting world of measurements and project budgets, and apparently, he applied that same principle to my life, wherein mistakes were failures instead of lessons.
“I’ve always been serious about my life, Miles. It’s just not the lifeyouwant for me.”
“I want you to be safe, Willow. I want to not have to worry about you, wonder if you’re eating, if you’re living in a dump, if you’re getting taken advantage of by a shitty boyfriend. I want you home, in a stable job, living a normal life. Find a husband, settle down. Why is that so hard for you to do?”
The anger bubbled.
“So let me get this straight.” I eyed a woman’s quilted purse and wondered if it was Chanel. “If I come home, find a nine-to-five, marry, and settle into a house with a picket fence down the road from you, you’ll be happy?”
“Yes, I will be. What’s wrong with that life, Willow? It’s safe, it’s normal, it’s respected. You’ve never even given it a chance. You might love it.”
I considered his point for a moment, giving him the benefit of the doubt because that’s who I was as a person, even though my simmering anger wanted me to fly home and nut-punch my older brother until he backed off and realized that I had every right to live my life my way. I pictured myself waking up in a little box of a house—or in reality, a studio apartment, which is all I’d likely be able to afford—making coffee in the morning, talking to my faux plant because I absolutely couldn’t be trusted to keep a real plant alive, shivering through an icy morning commute on my way to work. Smiling at my co-workers from the confines of my cubicle, meeting for after-work happy hours, spending endless hours on online dating apps trying to make a real connection with someone who would see me for me, and then counting the years until he’d propose, before I’d dive into wedding planning, and then settle into making babies.
There was nothing inherently wrong with that image. Certainly, I’d probably painted it more negatively than I should have because I hadn’t added an exciting career or a sexy boyfriend, all of which could be possibilities if I stayed in Minneapolis. But it wasn’t what I wantedright now.I was only twenty-six years old. Maybe in the future, thatcould be my life—and Miles will feel very self-satisfied. I’ll be “safe.”
I couldn’t help wondering if he was comparing me to my best friend, Melissa, though. She loved that life. She craved stability in a way I never had, and she was thriving, embracing the suburban mom life with a gusto that I admired. And I couldn’t be happier for her. The one difference between her and Miles? Melissa knew that I needed something different and accepted that for me.
“I don’t think I would, Miles. I wish you could see that. I’m allowed to do what I want with my life. This is my dream, and even if I don’t achieve success at the rate you deem to be appropriate, that doesn’t mean that I should give up. Ever heard of failing forward? Every mistake I make is just a data point. It’s something for me to learn and grow from.”
“Like not sleeping with your business partner?”
I winced.
“It’s not like I planned that, Miles. We just fell in love.”
“Was it love when he stole all your money? Left with the seamstress?”
“Yes, please, let’s revisit that. Great fun for us all,” I muttered. My brother seemed to think that relentlessly pointing out my past failures would somehow stop me from making any mistakes in the future. Shifting in my seat, I turned my head to look at the line of shops. One of them showcased purses and those woolen capes that I’d seen on more than one person now, and I knew where I’d be heading once I ended the call with my brother.
“Well? I’m just saying…you can’t be trusted to know what’s best for you.”
“Actually, I can. I have all of my mental faculties, which means I do get to be in charge of the decisions that I make. Forme. So I took a chance on love and it failed. Spectacularly. But now I’ve learned—no mixing business with pleasure. It’s a tough lesson that millions of other people have likely learned. It’s not like I’m some anomaly that is the first ever to go into business with her boyfriend and fail. Everything is so black and white with you, life or death, and it’s just not that serious.”
“Not that serious? We had to come bail you out, Willow. When does this stop?”
“It stops right now.” My anger finally surfaced, and I stood and grabbed my carry-on, unable to sit still. “Right now, Miles. I didn’t ask you to come to New York to bail me out. And I’m not asking your opinion on this, either. I get to make my own choices.”
“Then you live with the consequences. I’m not flying to Italy this time to fix everything for you.”