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He peers up from his iPad. “Morning.” He nods to the chair beside him as though he needs me to sit so we can talk, yet I sense we are not on the same page. “Daphne has made the news.”
The sound of her name cuts through the air like a knife. Only I feel the knife continue into my gut. For two years, I have tried to forget the botched experience of proposing to her.
She was insulted by my lame beach arrangement.
A casual proposal with cheap cushions and a handmadeWill you be my forever?sign emphasized how I really didn’t know her. Everything about that night was a fuckup—an impulsive moment and my biggest regret.
Daphne deserved more.
A few weeks later, I thought we could continue as we were and when the timing was right, I could counteract my pathetic attempt and make her mine in a way she desired. But Daphne offered no second chance. I blew the one opportunity. She ended us, knowing my work always came first. She reminded me of how I’m so busy I couldn’t even arrange the proposal myself and had to get someone else to do it. She even suggested my PA would have organized something special and not some random person on the beach.
And I have regretted it every day since.
Dad angles his iPad so I can see the image on the screen. “Zenith is branching into Italy and France. A move overseas was imminent to oversee the company’s growth in the European market.”
I absorb what he is telling me.
“She wasn’t the one for you.”
I meet his gaze, thump my chest, and cough.
“Since you’re my son, I assume your ego and fear of failing at something is more important than love.”
“No. I loved her. Still do.”
“If she’d saidyes,where would you be now?”
I frown at my father. “We’d be together.”
My father scratches the side of his cheek. “Daphne needed more than what you could offer. She wants everything, and so do you. Who would compromise their career for the other? Both your egos and drive to be successful would clash, and neither of you would step back to allow the other to thrive.”
I rub at my temple. “In hindsight, I would have done anything.”
“That’s a lie.” My father stands from the table and pours himself some juice from the cart Lola had wheeled in without us noticing.
“How so?”
“You loved the idea of being with Daphne. Infatuation is not love.”
“Six years together is hardly infatuation.”
“Would you have moved to Milan?”
I hesitate, wanting to say yes. “No.”
“Our family has no business in Milan. You are not second fiddle. And the few million she earns is not worth giving up your life for.”
I close my eyes, imagining a life in Italy with the love of my life. Only I can’t picture it. I try to imagine the dream.
My father observes me. “When the time is right, you’ll see.”
“See what?”
“The perfect person for you.”
I shake my head. “Not when you’re not looking.”
“The unexpected is when everything falls into place.”
