Page 31 of Dare to Need

With a heavy breath, I leaned down, placing my forehead against hers. I closed my eyes and let the feel of her closeness seep into all the gaping holes in my chest.

“You’re right, Eva,” I finally said. “Thisischanging me and I don’t like it either. But what choice do I have left? My father just had a major heart attack that almost took his life and this is just the beginning of his recovery process. You heard what my mother said. He is going to need multiple surgeries to clear out his arteries and his recovery will be a long road. It all falls to me now.”

When she didn’t respond, I said, “It’s my responsibility to make sure that my father’s legacy doesn’t crumble. I should have done it a long time ago, but none of that matters now. I’ve stepped up and hopefully that will make things better for my family.”

There were tears in her eyes when I pulled back to look at her. I knew the tears were for me. Not only for the struggles I had with my father, but for the loss of the one thing that wasmine—my art.

“If that’s what you really feel is the right decision, then I will support you no matter what.” Her words were clipped, as though it pained her to say them. But I believed her. Eva loved me that much that she would support whatever decision I came to.

Though I knew that taking over my father’s business would mend the relationship we had, I couldn’t brush off the nagging feeling that this decision was also going to cause a much greater rift in my life than what had existed before. I just didn’t know exactly what that meant yet.

But I stomped that thought down because now wasn’t the time to sort through all of that.

I rubbed the pad of my thumb along her jawline, tracing it until I met the middle of her chin. “Can we just have one night where we forget about all of this?”

Bright hues of honey beamed in her brown eyes as she nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

“Good.” I brushed my lips against hers. “I got something for you.”

She quirked a brow. “Oh?”

I nodded to the bed behind her. “It’s on the bed. I want you to wear it tonight. I’m taking you out. Just like I promised.”

When she turned around, her face lit up as her eyes skated over the red silk dress that stood out against the bright white sheets of the bed. I watched with tentative excitement as she took the few steps toward the bed, reached down and ran her fingers over the thin fabric.

As she turned toward me again with sultry eyes, a flutter of joy that I finally did something right after days of disappointing her, sang through my chest.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.” Her voice was breathy as she stepped toward me. When her delicately toned arms wrapped around my neck, I felt a sigh of relief escape me. It finally felt likesomethingwas getting back on the right track. And even though there was still so much outside of my control, if Eva and I were doing well then I knew I would be able to journey through whatever else came our way.

“Good.” I planted a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I made our reservation at Restaurant Daniel in three hours, so that should be plenty of time for you to get ready before we need to leave.”

Eva’s face softened as she said, “Thank you for doing this, babe. And thank you for opening up to me. It means a lot that you feel like you can trust me with your emotions.”

My brows furrowed. “It was never about not trusting you, Eva. I’ve just never been good at opening up.” I raked a hand through my hair. “I don’t know. Maybe it was something I learned from my parents over the years. They were forced to protect themselves from crumbling under the weight of their emotions with how they grew up. And I think I may have picked up on that protectiveness and used it as my own shield so I didn’t have to truly face whatever hurt me.”

“And your art was how you communicated everything that got stuck inside.”

I nodded, unable to speak further about my art for fear that I might slip right back into the pessimism that had me lashing out at her before.

A flash of worry flickered across her face and then it was gone. Replaced with a warm smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Well, we don’t have to worry about any of that for the rest of today. I’m going to jump in the shower. I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Okay.” I pressed another kiss to the tip of her nose before she sauntered off and closed the bathroom door behind her.

As Eva got ready, I settled into one of the cushioned lounge chairs placed on the balcony in our room. Closing my eyes for a bit, I let the loud sounds from the city below sharpen into focus.

Horns blared all across the city as the minutes ticked into rush hour. A metallic pounding sounded somewhere in the distance—likely steel rods were being placed for another skyscraper. Thousands upon thousands of voices melded together in a soft hum that soothed me, forcing my mind to slow.

Hazy images stolen from years passed played across my mind. Some filled with laughter as Lucas and I blazed a trail through this city, causing a raucous wherever we went. Others were laced with worry and fear that I’d made a mistake in leaving my home behind to chase my dream in the Big Apple. Only to be replaced with joyous success the first time I received a compliment from a stranger on my art.

This city had shaped me into the man I wanted to become—strong, generous, creative, and courageous. But with the looming worry of my father’s health and the constant sinking feeling in my stomach about my new position as CEO of the Walker Corporation, my presence in this city felt heavy. As though everything that had transpired in the past week and a half had tainted what this city meant to me during my formative years.

The towering buildings were no longer a sight to behold. Instead, they made me feel claustrophobic. The constant bustling was no longer invigorating. The too-loud noises scraped against my senses like nails on a chalk board. And the gamut of colors were no longer of source of inspiration that sparked the twitch in my palm to hold the wooden handle of my paint brush. They were now a painful reminder that I would be forced to still my innate desire to create.

As my mind roamed with torturous thoughts, I felt my throat constrict, my shoulders tense, and my stomach churn. My body was reflecting what I couldn’t quite process through the mess in my mind. It ached for a release of the anxiety blossoming like torrid flames in every corner of my soul. All I wanted was for this to go away—for my mind to calm and for the world I built for myself to be right again.

---