Page 34 of Dare to Fall

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I took a deep breath in, attempting to calm the racking frustration. “First, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t refer to my career as ‘messing around.’ Second, we’ve had this conversation on countless occasions, most of them ending with a giant blowout. I’d prefer if that didn’t happen this time, because frankly, Father, I can’t handle it anymore. Regardless of whether or not you can appreciate my being an artist, this is what I do. And it will be what I continue to do for the rest of my life. I have no interest in being a real estate developer.” I let out a long sigh, the weight of the constant fighting wearing on me. “I don’t want to argue with you about this anymore. It’s gone on for too long.”

It was all I could say to him. Years ago, when he started asking me about taking over the company, I let myself get too invested in making him see my side. As time ticked by, it became more and more apparent that he would never understand where I was coming from. I would never admit it to him, but it hurt—more than I wanted to admit to myself.

Silence droned on. I pulled the phone away from my ear to look at the screen. The line was still active.

A few more seconds slid by before he said, “Garth, I have worked my entire life trying to build a company that I could pass down to you boys. I like to think I’ve made something really great.”

“You have,” I told him.

“I’m not finished.” His tone was curt. “I didn’t just build this business for myself. I wanted to have something that I could leave to you and Garrett. Now that the time has come for me to do that, I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to take it. Everything is set in place, and I would be there to teach you the ropes. This is a company that could take you far in life, and it doesn’t make sense to me why you choose to do something that will never lead to the same amount of success.”

And there it was. The hard truth buried beneath all the bullshit. It wasn’t about me taking over his business so he could retire or focus on his health—not really. He didn’t see me or what I had done assuccessful. That probably had to do with the fact that I wouldn’t be a billionaire by the time I was forty, like he was. But that didn’t matter to me. I was financially stable and got to wake up every morning feeling excited about my job. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that if I took his offer and became the CEO of the Walker Corporation, I would be miserable.

It wasn’t lost on me that every move I made was to outrun the shadow that had been cast by my father’s fortune.Fuck. I couldn’t even stand to date a woman as soon as she started asking questions about the famous Walker Corporation and the man who had built it.

There wasn’t enough fight left in me to yell at him, despite the rise in my blood pressure. Maybe I’d heard the insults one too many times. Or maybe there was a part of me that just wanted us to have the same father-son relationship we had before I had told him to fuck off and left for New York. We used to do everything together—all of us, as a family. Now, everything felt different. We each had a different life to lead, and none of our pieces aligned as they used to. There was a rift, and I couldn’t help but feel the guilt sink in that I was the one who had fucked it all up.

“Father, I don’t want to fight with you about this anymore. You’ve spoken your piece and I’ve spoken mine. You should do whatever you need to do to ensure your company’s success, but hiring me as the CEO is not going to happen. I’m sorry.”

I really was sorry too. This fight had spanned the last fifteen years of our relationship. If I was capable of being the son he wanted me to be, I would have taken the position in a heartbeat. But I knew that taking over his company would be my downfall and likely the demise of the empire he worked so hard to create. The Walker Corporation was successful because my father put every ounce of his soul into it. Real estate development washispassion, and without that passion, the company would plummet. It was one of the first lessons I had learned at Parsons. Creation was hard. If you didn’t have a burning love for the art you created, you would fail. Simple as that.

I carried that piece of advice with me from that moment forward. I promised myself that if I had to work my ass off in life, I would make sure my time was spent doing something I loved. Unfortunately for my father, our passions didn’t align.

“After everything your mother and I have done for you, I can’t believe you turned out to be this selfish,” he said. Then the line went dead.

His words sliced into me like a razor blade, attacking the vulnerabilities he knew were lying just beneath my cool surface. I tossed my phone onto the counter, landing with a harsh thud. My mind swam with thoughts coming too quickly to decipher anything of value. There was still so much to do today, but I had to get out. It felt like the walls were closing in on me. The space of my loft was no longer my sanctuary. Grabbing my keys from the hand-sculpted bowl on the entryway table, I left my phone on the counter as I slammed the door shut.

18

Eva

I tiltedmy head up toward the sun. Warmth settled over my face and the tops of my bare shoulders. Peering through the eyepiece of my camera, I shifted the angle to capture the rays of the sun peeking through the thick branches of a large oak tree. A click sounded, and I pulled the camera back to look at the screen.

It was all wrong. The picture was fuzzy, and instead of rays of light shining through the branches, the entire right upper corner of the photograph was blurred with a light leak.

“Ugh,” I mumbled to myself as I let the camera fall in front of my chest. It swayed back and forth from the strap.

It was still early in the morning for a Saturday. The only people around the lake were avid runners or small groups of young moms pushing strollers side by side. I took a seat in the grass and started clicking through the photos I had taken around the lake. None of them were what I wanted them to be. It was so hard to focus since my talk with Drema the night before, so I figured a day out with my camera would help calm my nerves. But I was only an hour into it, and all I felt was more frustration.

Drema was so sure of everything she said to me last night. I could sense it from the tone of her voice. It was unnerving that she believed in me more than I did. While we were talking, I felt inspired to make some big changes. No matter how scary it was, I needed to confront everything that felt off.

Connor and I needed to have a serious talk about what was happening between us—more on his end than mine. Despite the unsettling feelings that always accompanied an encounter with a certain man, I was dedicated to Connor, and I wanted things to work out between us. I’d spent a huge part of my life with him, and I didn’t want to throw all that to the wind when we hit our first sign of trouble. No matter how intensely my body reacted to being around Garth, I didn’tknowhim—not in a way that counted.

But then again, I wasn’t really sure if I knew who Connor was right now, either. I thought I knew everything about the guy I had loved for over five years now, but something had changed for him this past summer. I just wish I knew what that something was.

Goosebumps rose on my arms as a cold mist from the lake’s fountain drifted toward me. I ran my hands up and down my arms, letting the moisture sink into my skin.

Everything was so different now. We were already three weeks into the fall semester, and I’d barely seen Connor or our friends. For as long as I could remember, being alone felt scary to me, and I’d never been more alone than I was right now, yet I wasn’t bothered by it. While everything was in an upheaval, it was kind of nice to not have the daily drama that came with our group.

Still, I was struggling to let go of everything I had built for myself. It was like a noose was tightening around my neck with each passing day, and the only way to get myself out of it was to make a life-altering decision. Though, I wasn’t sure which one to make. I knew I didn’t love medicine nearly as much as I loved photography. But if I changed my career path, that also meant I would have to tell Connor that we wouldn’t be going to medical school together.

There was no doubt in my mind that he would be disappointed in me, and that thought pissed me off. He would have no right to be upset with me about following my own dreams when I had been nothing but supportive of him pursuing medicine.

Then again,Iwas the one who was messing up our plans.

I ripped a blade of grass from its roots and twiddled it between my fingers before tossing it to the breeze. Was there even enough time for me to pursue photography as a major? Would I have to stay a few more years to get my degree? I really didn’t want to be a seventh-year senior. It would be embarrassing sitting in classes with students who were fresh out of high school when I was already supposed to have graduated.

Senior year was supposed to be the easiest year of them all. The pre-medicine course load was much less than it was the first three years, and I had more time to focus on applications and the MCAT. Yet, here I was, trying to change my entire life trajectory at the last possible moment.

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