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Natalie suggested I meet with her therapist and even though I had always taken a dim view of psychologists and therapy, I was willing to try it. I found our meetings awkward and uncomfortable, and I didn’t like having to talk about my past and my weaknesses with someone I barely knew, especially someone who allowed her dog to sit on the couch and leave hair all over the place. But I had to admit our conversations were insightful.
The breakthrough had been when she asked me how much money I had envisioned as a goal when I started Luma, if I’d had a figure in mind that I wanted to achieve.
“No,” I said. “It wasn’t like that. I never set out to be a billionaire or to have a company worth a billion dollars.”
“What then?”
“I just always wanted enough.”
“Enough?”
When would I ever have enough money? She pushed me on this point, and I had to ask myself hard questions. When would I feel I was successful enough? I thought the money was about financial security. But what was that? Enough money for a house? I could buy many houses now, but it still didn’t seem to be enough. The houses got bigger, and the goals kept shifting.
Luma was about giving me security, something I’d achieved years ago. I had kept going because I didn’t know how else to live. It was who I’d become. But I wanted to change. I didn’t want to be a slave to my job.
She also asked me about my relationships, and I was forced to admit that I’d never given them much thought. I had never put people first. She helped me see that this wasn’t my fault, that my childhood had molded me into the adult I was to become. If it hadn’t been for that angry boy, I would not have achieved all that I had with Luma. But it was time to stop being angry, so incredibly ambitious. I started to see that, but it also scared me. Who was I if I was not that guy working until midnight every night?
Trevor and I started hanging out again and were now working on an app that measured executive stress levels and helped individuals decompress with techniques like meditation, mindfulness, and yoga. Part of the process was testing this out on myself. I hated every minute of it of course. I realized that I enjoyed being stressed and under pressure, that this gave me the bursts of adrenaline that fueled my creativity and ability to work hard.
But it was unhealthy in the long run. Luma was established now and as I had predicted, Nic was a good CEO, perhaps better than I was, but I wouldn’t admit that out loud. In conversation with the therapist, I committed to exploring new ways of living, of being with Natalie and getting my adrenaline going in healthier ways. It felt like I needed to give myself permission to relax and stop pushing so hard. It was like I was still that kid in high school who had to rush home after school to be ready for my shift at the grocery store, trying to cram studying into the hours I was supposed to be unpacking the tinned tomatoes.
One afternoon, when Natalie came back from work, I poured her a glass of wine as I served us dinner, which I had cooked myself. We still had a housekeeper, but I was enjoying doing things with my hands. Basic meals, nothing too fancy, considering that Ethan was very particular about what he ate. This was a basic pasta alfredo, with parmesan I’d bought from Holly’s deli. I was feeling rather proud of my efforts but saw with disappointment that Ethan didn’t like the food.
“I don’t like cheese,” he announced, pushing the plate away. With a sigh, I fetched him a plate and gave him some of the fettuccini without any sauce. Then I saw that Natalie didn’t touch her food either.
“You don’t like it either?” I asked.
Her wine glass was untouched.
“I’ve been feeling a bit nauseous,” she said. She looked at me and then at Ethan, then lifted her eyebrows, mischievously.
I felt my insides lurch. Was she saying what I thought she was saying? We’d spoken about having a child together and Natalie wanted a baby of her own. This time, we had talked about it a lot, how it would be for us as a family, how Ethan would take it and how we would ensure he didn’t feel threatened. Natalie wanted to be certain this is what I wanted too. I knew she was worried I might react like I did in college years ago. But I had changed. I wasn’t the same guy I used to be back then. For one, I was reading yoga blogs instead of business magazines now.
“Remember how you were saying you were looking for a new hobby, something to challenge you?” her eyes were twinkling, and I could barely contain my excitement. But we had to wait for Ethan to finish his dinner. I couldn’t believe how excited I was.
“Are you sure?” I asked her as soon as we could talk.
“I saw the doctor today. She confirmed it. I am about seven weeks pregnant.”
I swept her up in my arms, holding her as close as possible, trying to hug her not too tightly in case I hurt the baby.
“So, you’re happy?” Natalie asked me, anxiously searching my face.
“I couldn’t be happier,” I assured her.
It was true. I never felt as rich or as successful in my entire life as at that moment, when I saw Natalie beaming at me with a look of such pride and happiness as she patted her tummy where our child and our new future together was beginning to grow.
