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The yard is open, looking into the canyons with luscious green grass. Dad and I would spend hours kicking the soccer ball around when I played in my younger years. He even installed soccer goals so I could practice properly.
I walk down the long glass hallway toward Dad’s office, admiring the tall plants against the glass.
With a gentle knock, I open the door to find him sitting behind his desk. Not saying a word, I take a seat in the armchair across from him. I’ve always enjoyed spending time in here, the smell of leather-grained books lingering in the air. There are bookshelves all around the room from classic literature to non-fiction books. I enjoy reading, but of late, something about it triggers my inability to fall asleep.
My gaze shifts toward the window.
“They’re back again,” is all I say.
Dad stops typing, and then I hear his sigh before he removes his glasses and fixates on me.
“How bad?”
I shrug. “They’re worse. I see Lex. Then I see him fade away into this…”
The memory of his face deteriorating is too raw for me to voice loudly. Instead, my glance falls toward the dark wood floors, struggling to comprehend it all. I wasn’t there when my father passed away, so why these dreams plague me makes no sense. I have zero recollection of the man whose blood runs through my veins.
“Have you spoken to Mom about it?”
I shake my head. “It’ll just worry her.”
“Is that all that’s troubling you?”
I can’t lie to him. I’ve never been able to.
“This trip to London. Noah mentioned something…” I try to gather my thoughts, but part of me thinks I’m overthinking things. “I just get the feeling this is more than a business venture.”
“Lex and Noah wouldn’t have asked you unless they genuinely believed you could do the job. Neither one of them gives favors for the hell of it. That goes for Kate too.”
“I guess,” I murmur, then scratch my neck. “Noah alluded to Jessa being unhappy.”
“Jessa, unhappy?”
“Miserable is the exact term he used.”
“She’s had a lot of changes. It’s not easy to get married and have a child all within such a short time.”
I purse my lips. “Right, of course.”
“Unless you think it’s something else?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” I tell him honestly. “She still crawls under my skin when I least expect it. Her name alone is a trigger.”
Dad nods but leans forward with a thoughtful glance. He’s never been one to judge nor give advice to sway me in one direction. He always makes me see both sides of the so-called coin.
“Grieving a relationship takes time. But eventually, a rainbow appears, and the world is bright again.”
I smile softly. “If Mom heard you say that, she’d probably cry.”
Dad laughs. “She’s romantic like that.”
“But what if you don’t want to grieve? What if it’s the biggest regret you have to this day?”
“As someone who has seen their fair share of heartache, I’ll say this…” he says, stalling for a brief moment. “If she’s the only woman you can think about, then maybe that’s speaking the words you’re not willing to say out loud.”
It’s all too much, and no matter how hard I’ve tried to bury these thoughts, they keep resurfacing like unfinished business.
“But how do you know?”
