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“Okay . . .”
“The quickest way to burn through time is to prioritize the wrong things.” He leans back in his chair again, hands clasped. “I can’t tell you how many days, nights, weeks, months, years I squandered away working when I should’ve been spending that time with my family.”
“You can’t beat yourself up over the past.”
I imagine that facing one’s impending demise makes them think about regrets and all the things they would do differently if given another chance, but what’s done is done. My father worked his life away—despite having the financial means to not have to work a single day in his life.
He made his choice.
There’s no changing it now.
“I wish I’d thrown a ball with you boys a little more often,” he says. “I wish I hadn’t missed so many of your sister’s dance recitals. I wish I’d taught you how to play chess, rather than hiring someone else to do it. I should’ve taken us on more family vacations instead of shipping you kids off to every summer camp under the sun.”
“You don’t have to say any of this.”
He lifts a flattened palm. “I do, though. And you need to hear it.”
I bite my tongue, knowing there’s no arguing with Redmond Rothwell once he gets going.
“Your sister, she’s a fantastic mother. Much like your mother. I’m not worried about her. Those kids are her whole world,” he continues. “And Burke. Burke can’t be alone for longer than two seconds without panicking. I’m not worried about him—he’ll always have someone to keep him company. But you. All you have is your job. A man needs more than that if he truly wants to be happy.”
“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” I say, though I’m lying. The statement would’ve been the truth had I said it over a week ago. I was happier then. Hopeful. I had something—or rather, someone—to look forward to.
“You say that, but I don’t think you mean it.” His gray eyes hold tightly on mine. “Just a hunch.”
“I don’t think happiness is the point of life.”
“It’s the only point,” he says. “The only point that matters.”
“Agree to disagree. Not trying to be some hedonistic trust fund nepo baby.”
Dad chuckles. “And I admire that about you, but I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about love. Finding someone to spend your life with.”
“If you’re about to give me another lecture on marriage, I’m going to have to stop you right there.” We’ve had this conversation more times over the years than I can begin to count. “Save your breath. Save your energy. Save your time.”
“I know you’re probably a bit gun shy after the whole Audrina thing.” His expression turns somber. “You know how much I adored that woman. She’d have made a fine Rothwell.”
I nod. He wasn’t shy about singing her praises any chance he got, and she took a liking to him as well. Their bond was wholesome, if rather unusual.
“I don’t agree with the way things went down with Burke. It was awful on both of their parts. Selfish. But I think we can all agree, she was a better fit for him than she was for you.”
“Why are we talking about this?” Digging up painful memories has never been my thing. Chaining them to cinder blocks and drowning them in the sea has always been more my style.
“Right.” He clears his throat. “I guess what I’m getting at is, don’t let the hurt from the past steal the happiness of tomorrow.”
“Did you get that from a fortune cookie?”
My father rolls his eyes. “I’m being serious here. I hope one day you’ll be able to find someone who’ll make you forget Audrina ever existed. It’ll make that whole thing look like playground love.”
I say nothing because there’s nothing to say.
While I was able to get over Audrina relatively quickly all those years ago, I’ve yet to get over the betrayal by my own flesh and blood.
In a roundabout way, Burke did me a favor by stealing her out from under me.
But it doesn’t change the fact that I’ll never be able to look at him the same way again.
Or trust him.
Or feel an ounce of happiness for him, particularly where his love life is concerned.
“I’m curious to hear what you think of Burke’s new fiancée.” Dad steeples his fingers. “We haven’t had a chance to talk about her yet, just us two.”
I hate everything about that word . . . “fiancée.”
It’s pretentious and assuming and old fashioned.
“I think she’s crazy,” I say.
Dad chuckles like he thinks I’m joking.
I always thought anyone would have to be insane to want to settle down with Burke. He’s a workaholic with the personality of a piece of white paper or a mouthful of sand. He has no hobbies or interests, at least none that make him stand out from the sea of Brioni-suit-wearing, New-York-financial-district lemmings he associates with.
