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“That’s changing,” she said. “I’m learning. But for you... It’s like you only want people to know the good things, Gabe. You did that with me. You’re doing that with your dad. It’s protective, I think. You want to take care of the bad stuff yourself. You want to shield them. But you’re shielding yourself, too. Nobody has to be disappointed with you, because you’ll make it all okay.”

“I’m not one of your columns,” he snapped.

“Right. I’m sorry. That was...” She shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

Gabe fastened his belt and shoved his feet into his shoes. “Call me if you change your mind,” he said.

Lips pressed tight together, she nodded.

“Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

He left before he said something else that was hurtful. Something he wouldn’t be able to take back.

She couldn’t understand family, because her dad had never done the things he should have. But Gabe’s dad was different. He’d always taken care of them. Always watched out. Always made sure they had the best. He’d protected all of them, and now it was Gabe’s turn to do the same.

He couldn’t walk away from that, not even for Veronica. So he rode down the elevator and felt another thing he wanted dropping away, and he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

HE DIDN’T SLEEP a wink. He dragged himself from bed at 5:00 a.m. to go for a run and try to get Veronica out of his head, but all he thought about while running through the dawn streets was how much she’d like it this time of morning. How clean it all was. How the birds were singing and the pink sun glinted off the river and how much he wished she were with him.

He was cleaned up and on the subway by seven, heading to Brooklyn to check in on the new location. His dad had been begging him to, and frankly, Gabe needed off the island. Veronica was only a few dozen blocks away. If he stayed that close, he’d go see her. So he went to Brooklyn and watched the contractors work for a while, pretending he gave a damn about it all.

But her words stung him as if they were new wounds on his skin. Maybe it was pretending. He’d told himself sacrifice was just part of growing up, but now he didn’t know if he was sacrificing his happiness for something good or if he was just giving in.

He wasn’t bad at this job. He could do it. He was organized and sharp and dedicated to keeping his father’s vision going. It was a lot of work, but he was young and healthy—he could push himself just as hard as his dad had.

And then what? Do the same thing year after year until he had a heart attack, too?

Shit.

At 10:00 a.m. Gabe shook the general contractor’s hand and made a quick escape from the newly gutted space. He felt as if he’d been working for ten hours instead of two and a half. The cacophony of the subway station seemed to bore through his skull. When the train pulled up, Gabe caught sight of himself in the reflection of the window, neck bent, shoulders hunched up. He looked miserable.

Veronica was right. He wasn’t himself here. He couldn’t be. But he didn’t have any fucking choice.

The fury was there again as he boarded the train. It built as the car picked up speed, the roar of noise like fuel on a fire. Gabe closed his eyes and imagined feeling like this again tomorrow, and the day after that, and the year after that.

He opened his eyes and glanced at the people surrounding him. They looked as exhausted and miserable as Gabe felt. His dad was different. If James MacKenzie had been here, he’d have struck up three different conversations and had the whole damn train car laughing. That was his happiness in life. Being around people, cheering them up, whether that was with a good burger or a bad joke. He loved what he did, and even with that, the business had worn him down with stress. How would Gabe survive it?

Because Veronica was definitely right about one thing. Claire wasn’t going to step up in a few years and neither was Naomi. If Gabe took this on, he’d be taking it on forever.

If. That word meant he had a choice. Did he?

When he got back to his family’s place, he wasn’t surprised to walk in on an argument. His mom and dad were both stubborn and strong, and they’d never spent this many hours of the week together.

“You’ve been putting me off for decades,” his mom snapped, “telling me we’d travel next year or the year after that. I want to go to the Bahamas. I want to go to Europe. I want to go on a cruise. And you have to take time off. The doctor said so.”

“I’m taking time off. Don’t you see me sitting here being useless? I’ll travel with you, Mary, I swear to God, but right now I need to be here to help Gabe. You think he’s just going to step right in and things will go smoothly? I may not be able to work sixty hours a week, but I can damn sure be here to offer guidance.”

Gabe waved as he walked into the kitchen. “Hi, Mom. Dad.”

“Gabe,” his mom said, “tell your father you don’t need him here.”

“Of course he needs me here,” his dad snapped.

“Watch your blood pressure!” she yelled back.

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