Page 20 of Dare to Need

“Okay,” Eva said as she looked at me, her lips turned downward, a deep crease formed between her brows.

I wished I would have felt the warmth that always accompanied her affection as she wrapped her arms around my neck, but all I felt was anxiety-ridden hesitation wracking through my body. If she left, there was nothing keeping me safe any more. No one keeping me tethered to reality, preventing me from falling down the endless hole I’d created for myself.

But she had to go. And I had to stay. To have this conversation with my father. Whatever he wanted to say to me, I had to let him say it.

“You’re going to be okay,” Eva whispered in my ear, only for me to hear.

With a quick kiss on my cheek, I watched her walk out the door with my mother and Garrett.

Then it was just us.

The air between us was thick with tension. I could feel his stare as I locked my gaze to the floor between my tapping feet—an anxious habit I thought I’d gotten rid of a long time ago.

I didn’t want to be the first one to start in on our typical exchanging of words. There was no way in hell I was going to make him feel even worse while laying in a hospital bed after nearly dying. So, I would wait. Wait for the borage of insults I knew were likely straining against the tip of his tongue. And I would take them all. It was what I deserved.

But there was nothing that could have prepared me for the words he actually spoke.

“I’m sorry, son.”

My head whipped up, causing a dizzying sensation that nearly had me falling over.

“What?” I asked, only because it was the last thing I thought I’d ever hear my father say to me. Yet, they were the words I’d always wanted to hear.

“I said, I’m sorry.” He grunted as he tried to adjust himself into a better sitting position. “Grab one of those chairs and bring it over here. I may be in a hospital bed, but you know how I hate looking up at people.”

More memories flickered through my mind as I pulled one of the chairs to the side of his bed. Teaching moments, he called them. Garrett and I were always taught to look people in the eyes when we spoke to them. That it was a sign of respect—not only for the other person but for ourselves.

He said if we were mentally strong enough to look someone in the eyes, no matter the content of the conversation, then we would build confidence in ourselves over time. Though part of me hated to admit it, he had been right.

Now, I just had to manage his pet peeve of having people stand over him while talking. As I slumped into the chair, I tried my damndest to keep the heavy fatigue from all the stress off my face. Given the concerned look he gave me, I wasn’t sure I succeeded. Thankfully, he let it go.

After making a few final adjustments to his pillows, he said, “Before you go saying anything, I need to get this out.”

Staying silent, I swallowed hard against the dryness of my throat.

“I know you and I haven’t always seen eye to eye. Your mother says it’s because we’re both stubborn and aren’t willing to budge. But, I’ve had some time to think about this.” He took a sip of water from the small styrofoam cup before setting it back down on the table tray.

“When you have children of your own, I hope you will see that everything I’ve done in my life was for you two boys and your mother. I wanted to give you all the life I never had. So I worked my ass off every single day and it killed me not being there for you three. But I thought that the sacrifice of being away so much for work was worth being able to give you and Garrett everything you’d ever want.

“But where I went wrong was expecting you to take over what I built and love it as your own success. It was a mistake. And all of this”—he gestured to the machines and his hospital bed—“has made me see what an ass I’ve been to you boys. All this time, I thought I was doing the right thing, trying to get you to take your place in the company and continue building it into something that would truly last.”

As he closed his eyes and shook his head, my chest felt like a ten-pound sledgehammer slammed through it. The words I wanted to say were lodged in my throat, unwilling to rise.

When he opened his eyes, a tearful line gathered at the rims, threatening to spill over at any moment. “I’m so sorry I never told you how proud of you I am, Garth. I let my expectations of what I wanted for our relationship to get in the way of making sure you knew how damn proud I am. You’ve worked your ass off to make something of yourself. To chase your own dream and I...” He sucked in a sharp breath and the tears falling down his cheeks matched my own.

“I’m just so sorry.”

It surprised me. Hearing the words again that I’d always hoped he would one day say and yet, I still felt the overwhelming sense that it wasn’t him who had messed up. No. It wasme.

Sure, it would have been nice to have had his support all along. Most importantly, there would have been a hell of a lot less tension in our family for the past decade. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was the selfish one who had gone against the grain. And for what? To prove that I could do it on my own. That I wasn’t one of those typical trust-fund babies who wasted away their lives and their family’s fortune.

He was right. I could have let him take me under his wing and learn the ropes. With all that power and money, I could have made a lasting mark on the world. Done some good and reached out my hand to those in need.

If this was the time for truths, then maybe it was time I spoke my own.

The white linen felt abrasive against my skin as I reached over the bed and took his hand in my own, letting them fall onto the sheet. “Dad, I appreciate your apology. But you’re not the only one who messed up.” The words I’d been wanting to say the moment I saw him finally found their way out of my mouth.

He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “Please. I let you say your piece, let me say mine.” His lips smashed together into a tight line as though it were difficult for him to keep quiet.

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