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I grin through my teeth. How can he be so closed-minded about this? And the jab at me is completely unnecessary. “I’m not talking about what I want, Knox. This is what I built my business on, selling people the life they want but don’t have. You do, too, at a smaller scale.”
Knox frowns at me as though I just insulted him.
“You build houses, don’t you? You put on additions or refresh a run-down building. It’s all about replacing what someone has with what they want,” I explain. My tone is too sharp and I attempt to soften it. “Think about the business it could provide you. You could finally take some time to renovate your own house.”
Knox rubs both of his hands over his face, sighing. Am I getting through to him? I can’t tell.
“Do you really think Callum is going to be happy living in that run-down place forever?” I demand. “How long until he realizes you can’t provide him with more and he leaves you?”
“Callum isn’t going to leave me. We both know exactly what we want,” he answers, glaring at me. “And we’re both happy where we are.”
“Fuck, Knox. Why do you always settle for mediocre?” I demand, my hand growing tighter around the coffee cup.
Knox raises one eyebrow at me. “If you’re calling Callum mediocre?—”
“Of course, I’m not.” Although settling for one person when you could have endless opportunities might be—depends on the quality of the person. I have to admit, Callum is high quality. “Don’t you ever wish you could be happier?”
“I am happy,” Knox replies. “Why are you never happy with what you have? Are you happy with this life, or are you always looking for more to bring you the happiness that you’re missing?”
A muscle twitches in my jaw.
“Well?” he pushes. “Why are you never happy? Why do you always want more?”
“Because people leave when you don’t have enough,” I snap at him.
Knox’s jaw drops as he scrutinizes me. “What are you talking about?”
What I won’t tell him, what I’ve known since I was seven years old, is that wanting is a dangerous thing. You always want more and it’s that wanting that keeps you in place. Grinding at a job you hate, working on a dead marriage, whatever else. You want more so you put all your heart and soul into it…
Until you realize that you’ll never get what you want. And then you walk away. You leave without a backward glance at the people you left behind.
Just like I did when I left this place. I walked away from my dad and the place I’d foolishly thought of as home because I knew I’d never get what I wanted here.
My dad would say I pushed everyone in my life away. He’d say that I did it on purpose, so I have nobody left to worry about leaving me. But how can that be true, when I’m here worrying about Knox? I still call him a couple of times every year, I have him and his partner at my apartment in NYC for visits. How is that pushing him away?
I shake my head sharply. Why should I give a rat’s ass what my father thinks?
"Fuck it. Thanks for the coffee. I'll get out of your way."
Knox holds out an arm, stopping me.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Dante, but selling isn’t what I want. It’s not what Mrs. Kendall would have wanted either. I know that you were trying to convince her to let you buy the property,” Knox says. His tone is low and almost like he’s speaking to a caged bear instead of me.
“Knox—”
“This is what I want,” he interrupts. “I want this place to become for the kids of today what it was for me and my friends. I want a place where they can belong. I want that forest to remain the way it is. You can’t sell me on ‘more’ because the ‘more’ that I want can’t be bought.”
I can feel the familiar argument welling up in me. I’m not about to let myself become emotionally invested in this, so I take a sip of my coffee. The only reason I’m reacting to this is because it’s Knox. It’s the same argument I always had with Dad as a kid. The same argument that drove me away all those years ago.
“I wish you would think bigger and recognize that your potential is being wasted here,” I tell him coolly.
“Wasted according to you. Worthwhile to me,” he responds.
“I see. Then I suppose pointing out that you could turn it into a clubhouse for kids who move out here from the city is pointless?” I ask.
Knox shakes his head. “I want it to be open to everyone, not just rich kids.”
“Then there isn’t anything else to say, is there?”
