AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It was implied. Everything with my father was always implied,” I said.
“Was it? Or did you want it to be to cushion the world you made up in your mind?” he asked.
“There is no possible way you can run the company, Christian. You couldn’t even hold down the managerial job at that retail store you worked at,” I said.
“I was right on their policy,” he said. “There was no reason why that woman couldn’t work in the same area as her ex-husband so long as they kept kosher.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make. You’ve always been terrible at knowing your place,” I said.
“Why the hell do people need ‘a place?’” he asked.
“Because that’s how the entire world works. You put in your due, you follow the rules, you get the degrees you need to get, you spend the time learning what you need to learn, and then you are put in a position based on your hard work and dedication to do what you want!” I exclaimed.
“Which is absolute bullshit,” he said.
“And your lazy ass would think that,” I said.
“Look, I don’t know why your father chose me to run the company,” he said, “but he did. And you have to come to terms with that. You didn’t feel the need to stay for the reading of my mother’s letter, but did you know what it said?”
“I bet you’re going to tell me,” I said.
“Yeah, I am. She died thinking my lack of success was because she chose to raise me to be a decent man over raising me to be a successful one.”
“You’ve never done anything productive with your life, Christian,” I said. “How the hell do you expect to run this company? Success isn’t defined by running a company; it’s defined by being happy with what you’re doing.”
“Well, I’ve been happy,” he said.
“Job-hopping and never knowing where your next paycheck will come from?” I asked.
“Money and jobs don’t make people happy, Stella,” he said.
“Then you’ll have no issues handing over a company that will make me happy.”
“I’m not handing the company over to you,” he said.
“You said so yourself that you don’t want it. That you’ve been happy job-hopping and all that bullshit. So, why is this such a hard thing for you to do?” I asked. “Are you finally happy you got the one-up on your bratty, spoiled stepsister?”
I watched him falter for a split second before I felt a smirk crawl across my face.
“What? You don’t think I know what my own stepbrother thinks of me? I grew up with you, Christian.”
“Yeah, we grew up together, and do you know what my favorite memory is of you?” he asked.
“The time where I ran into the door and broke my nose?” I asked.
“No, it’s not nearly that funny,” he said. “It’s when I saw you vulnerable.”
“What?” I asked.
“Yeah. In the lawyer’s office, you faltered. Just for a few seconds. Your vulnerability shined through, and I’ve only seen it one other time. It’s my favorite memory of you.”
“My vulnerability is your favorite memory,” I said. “Alright, then when was it?”
“You were sitting underneath that weeping willow tree reading a book. It must’ve been a very funny book because the laughter and snickering I heard all the way in the street was completely unidentifiable. You were sitting against the trunk of the tree while I was riding my bike, and I ditched my bike to figure out what that damn noise was. It was airy, and sort of sounded like someone was choking on chips,” he said.
“Uh huh,” I said, nodding.
“When I found the source of the noise, I realized it was you laughing. Your cheeks were red, and your lips were curled up, and I just stood there watching you for five solid minutes while you lost yourself in this entire world. This world you created in your head that was obviously full of beauty and humor, unfolding right before your eyes. You let yourself get lost in it. You let yourself be vulnerable. It’s my favorite memory of you.”
