Page 61 of Dare to Need

Leave it to my father to make the elephant in the room even more obvious.

I cleared my throat and said, “Yes…I, um, wanted to apologize.”

A river formed between my father’s bushy brows. “What for?”

I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. A threat that the overwhelming emotion of anxiety was going to claw its way out of me.

“For a lot of things really,” I murmured to myself, then cleared my throat again. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry for not taking over the Walker Corporation sooner. I can’t help but wonder that if I had taken over the company all those years ago, this never would have happened.”

“Oh, honey—“

“Please, mom. Let me finish,” I interrupted her and she clamped her mouth shut, sitting back in her chair with a worried look on her face.

“When I saw you lying in that hospital bed, dad, it was the single worst moment of my life. I’d never felt regret before. Not for a single decision I’ve ever made. And I probably learned that from you. You’re both so brave and you taught me and Garrett to stand tall behind our decisions, including our failures. But when I got that call from mom, I’d never felt such a weight on my chest—no, mysoul—before.

“I know that no one has the power to predict the future or change the past, but I was there when the doctors were talking to you, mom. I heard how they said his lifestyle of travel, little sleep, and eating poorly all the time was what caused the strain on his heart. If I could have just taken my rightful place in the company when I was supposed to, you would have been able to live a healthier lifestyle sooner.”

The words rambled out of me like a faucet turned on high. It was a rush of relief that I’d said them and at the same time my heart thudded with anticipation of their response.

My father stole a sideways glance at my mother before his round eyes landed back on me. “Are you done?”

Although I had a lot more to say, I nodded because the question threw me off.

The small table bent toward my father as he put his elbows on the edge of it and clasped his hands.

“You are right in that you heard the doctors say that my lifestyle was what contributed to my heart failing. But you are wrong on all other accounts.”

My mouth popped open to retort, but I quickly shut it as he raised an open palm toward me, silencing me.

“Garth, I own a multi-billion-dollar company. If I wanted to eat healthy while I was traveling, I could have had a private chef fly with me all over the world to cook my meals. But I didn’t. I let old habits die hard and I ate like shit for decades.”

He lightly tapped the left side of his chest with a closed fist. “The only reason my heart failed was becauseIdidn’t treat it well. The same would happen to anyone, I don’t care if they were wild as a bird or chained to a desk ten hours out of the day. So don’t place blame on yourself for something that never concerned you, you hear?”

I blinked at him. I’d never thought about it that way before, but it made sense. He’d had the world at his fingertips since the Walker Corporation took off, and he was right. It would have been a drop in the bucket to have a private chef at his beck and call.

“Sweetheart, we would have talked to you about this sooner if we knew that was on your mind. But you’re father’s right. From the moment we met, he’s always had a vice for sweet foods. His bad habits have nothing to do with you taking over the company.”

“But I thought that if I’d taken over when I was supposed to that you would have had more time to focus on your health.”

My father shook his head violently, his eyes narrowing as he pierced me with his gaze. “Son, it took a heart attack for me to change my habits. Do you honestly think that my son taking over the company would have been enough to make me see the errors in my ways?Bullshit. Get it through your thick skull, boy. Stop taking on the burden of others when it’s not yours to bear.”

I sat back in my chair with a thud, dumbfounded by what was happening and what I’d spent the last two and a half weeks floundering over. Buried six feet under a pile of self-loathing, I drove myself mad thinking that my actions hadeverythingto do with my father falling ill. Now, both he and my mother were telling me that it was never my fault.

It took several minutes for my mind to catch up with what was happening and for the weight of my worries to slump away.

“So it’s not my fault you had a heart attack.”

“No!” they both said in unison.

“You keep taking on other people’s troubles though and you will end up just like me, chained to a hospital bed when you’re way too young to be. Get out of your head, Garth, and start living life again.”

The uneasiness I had walked in with was dissipating because he was right. My head had become a black hole of torturous thoughts that did nothing to serve me well. It was time that I finally stopped living in the shadow of my past and started living up to the honest man I wanted to be.

“Speaking of ‘living life.’” My mother turned toward my father and said, “Honey, why don’t we just tell him now.”

“Tell me what?”

It was my father who spoke. “I know we haven’t always had the easiest relationship, Garth. A lot of that was my fault because I put way too much pressure on you at such a young age. But you’re still my son and I know when something isn’t right.”

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