Page 4 of Severed Rivalry
“Ayla, are you hurt?”
She shrugs. If she doesn’t know, she isn’t in a situation I need to fix. Well, not first, anyway.
I place myself firmly in front of my brother, facing my father. He’s red in the face, veins protruding on his forehead, and he’s sweating. I push a hand to his chest. “Step back. Dial back the anger. What happened?”
His stubby, fat finger points dangerously near my face as he speaks through me to Liam. “Tell him that. None of this is my fault.”
Still facing my dad, I speak to my brother. “Li, take Ayla and get some fresh air please.”
He says nothing, but steps around me to my sister and extends a hand. They exit the room, and I exhale for the first time since before…her.
“I want to know what happened, but first, where’s Mom?”
“Testing.”
“Testing?”
“Did you miss when I said it the first time?”
Yeah, I’m not doing this.
“’Kay. Take a minute and do something to reducethis situation.” I mime a circle near his face. “No sense in having a heart attack when Mom needs you.”
He starts in with some chatter, but I don’t have the patience. I leave the room, pulling the door behind me.
My siblings are nowhere to be seen. The nurse’s station is empty.
I knew exactly the hell I was signing up for when I left Sariah’s side. If it weren’t my mom… That’s not true. Anyone in my family, except maybe my dad, and I’d have done the same.
Somehow it always comes down to this. If given the choice between disappointing my family or disappointing myself, I tend to take the fall.
And I really should stop.
My sister is married.
My brother isn’t vulnerable. Hell, he’s the threat.
My mom wants peace at all costs, usually the price is mine to pay.
And my dad? There’s no making him happy. I never could. He doesn’t even know—he wouldn’t even care—that I’m leaving Murphy Enterprises and starting my own thing.
His legacy, the one he built on ego and ego alone, is expected to fall to me. But I don’t want it. I don’t trust that it’s wholly legit. Liam has indicated it’s not.
When it comes down to it, I’d rather find new clients and take a risk on me, than trust that man with any more of my time. More importantly, I want him out of my head, out of my decision matrix, and out of my finances.
I want out from under his thumb. Under his thumb is why I’m choking. Thirty-six years old and stuck sounds pathetic for a grown man.
Better now than later.
Better now than never.
Better now than live with regret.
With that thought in mind, I pull my phone out of my pocket, go to an online florist, and order a bouquet of bubble-gum-colored peonies to be delivered to Sariah at Connect2Coach in lower downtown Denver tomorrow morning.
I’m done sacrificing myself for everyone else’s happiness.
It’s time I found my own.
