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She found an excuse to get off the call. “Oh, my dad needs help getting into the house. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Okay. I do love you, Edwina.”
He said it almost as an apology. Like he felt bad he didn’t want to marry her in the near future.
It would sound petty if she didn’t answer him in kind but as she murmured those three words back to him, for the first time ever, she wondered if they were actually true.
She went around the front of the house and smiled at her father. “Hi.”
“Hi. Care to sit with me?”
“I would love to.” She took the chair to the right of him, and sank down onto the hard wicker. She hated wicker. It left lines on the backs of her thighs. But for some reason, her father loved it. She reached down and petted the back of Mitch’s head, running her fingers through his black fur.
“How was Nigel?” he asked.
“Fine,” she lied. “Dad, I have to go back to New York. The business needs me there.”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he just asked, “When?”
“I’ll try to get a flight out on Tuesday.”
“That soon?”
She nodded. “It’s not fair to leave Nigel holding the bag.”
“Okay, munchkin. I’m grateful you were able to be here at all.”
“I can get you a housekeeper. And a dog walker, if that would help.”
But he shrugged, because Eddie Hunt never wanted anyone to do anything for him he could do himself. “Nah, we’ll manage just fine. Save your money.”
“I’m sorry.” Her stomach felt tied in knots. She felt torn.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s hard being the one who has to bend all the time, isn’t it?” he asked. “Your back must be a rubber band with all the bending over backwards you do for everyone.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Edwina, ever since you were little you always wanted everyone around you to be happy. You spent your entire childhood negotiating between me and your mother. You were the teeny tiny queen of accommodation. I don’t know if you remember but you used to find ways to try and make us both happy all the time. I would want to go fishing, which would make your mother mad and you knew it, so you’d ask your mom to take you shopping, which you hated, but you knew she’d love. You did stuff like that all the time and I feel bad that you felt like you had to do that.”
Her throat felt tight. She didn’t remember doing that with any level of conscious thought but she had definitely lived her life trying to navigate between the two of them. “It’s okay. I chose to do that.”
“But that’s just it. You do what your mother wants, what the business needs, what Nigel thinks. You want me to be happy so you came here. You’re responsible for everyone’s emotions, everyone’s well-being but your own.” He reached over and squeezed her hand, his face filled with concern. “What really makes you happy, sweetheart?”
The answer was she had no idea.
“I don’t know. I love the concept of our company and helping women feel good about themselves makes me happy, but it sort of feels like the company is Nigel’s more than it is mine. Because he knows the business side of things and I’m just the creator.”
It wasn’t like Nigel had intentionally hijacked her business. She’d really only had the concept and the brand. He was the driving force behind its success.
“I don’t want to let him down,” she added.
“Which brings us right back to the same question. If you could just make yourself happy and not worry about anyone else, what would you be doing with your life?”
She wasn’t sure but she suspected she would be the opposite of what a lot of people aspired to. She didn’t really love running her own business and working seven days a week, sixteen hours a day. She felt like a slacker admitting that, even to herself, but there were days when she just wanted to punch a clock, do her job, and go home to a husband and a couple of babies.
But that felt so unambitious, so anti-be your own boss, which seemed to be everyone’s goal.
“I want to start a family,” she said, the words just falling out before she could even contemplate them. The second they did, her heart squeezed at the thought of holding her own baby.
