“I’ll think of something. I won’t see him until tomorrow night, so with a bit of luck, the impulse to punch him will have passed.”
Michael smiled. “Wanna go to bed?”
I nodded quickly. “Yes, please. I need to shower first.”
“Have you eaten?”
I shook my head. “No. I ran straight here.”
“Go shower. I’ll fix you something.”
I leaned over and kissed him, soft and sweet. “I love you, Michael Piersen with an e.”
He smiled. “I love you too.”
Michael came to the store with me first thing. It was Saturday and he had to go to his office by eight, but him wanting to help me just reinforced to me that I’d made the right decision.
Michael and I were the real deal.
Up until yesterday, things between us had been fun and flirty, serious and very sexual. In the scheme of things, and in just a few short months, we’d fallen hard and fast, but that didn’t make our relationship trivial. Our first falling out had been a doozy. My father had fucked up, big time, but Michael and I had talked our way through it. He expressed his hurt and I’d listened, and together we’d found a way to the other side.
I felt even closer to him than I did before.
We were stronger now.
Customers started to file in as soon as the doors opened, and before I had time to think, Michael ducked in behind the service counter and put his hand on my arm. “I’m off now. I’ll be back this afternoon.”
I met his gaze. “Thank you.”
He smiled, and I knew we were good. He went to work and I got busy with customers, putting in new stock orders, checking the reports on the point-of-sale system. Michael came back around three with a sandwich that he handed to me. “I knew you wouldn’t have eaten.”
I grinned at him. “I haven’t, no. Tarini, I’m taking five.”
“Okay, boss,” she said as she seamlessly stepped in.
Michael and I sat out on the ledge seat on the wharf, enjoying the sun and the sounds of the city. “Did you get everything done?” I asked, taking a bite of the sandwich.
“Yep. It was a productive day. You’ve been busy all day again?”
I nodded as I chewed. “Flat out.”
“Good.”
“I sent my father a text message,” I told him.
“You did?”
“Yep. Told him I needed to see him. He said he’s free this afternoon. I said I’m not. That time didn’t suit me. I told him I’d see him tomorrow night.”
Michael smiled. “What did he say to that?”
“Nothing. I’m happy to let him sweat on it for a bit. I want him to sweat on it.”
Michael’s smile twisted a little. “I don’t want you to have to choose.”
“I didn’t choose this, Michael,” I replied. “He chose to say what he said. He can deal with the consequences.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
I shook my head. “No. I got this.” I winked at him and he reached over and squeezed my hand.
“You’ll come see me right after, yeah?”
“Baby, I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
I arrived home—the apartment where I lived with my father, whenever he was in Sydney—just before six thirty. The store was closed after its successful third day, and I’d told my dad he could expect me around half six.
I almost expected him not to be there. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find a note on the kitchen bench saying he’d been called to some important business matter in Kuala Lumpur. But he was home. I could hear him talking, on the phone, I presumed.
I grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl and took a few bites before deciding it wasn’t crunchy enough. I binned it and went down the hall toward my father’s office. His door was open so I walked right in and sat opposite him at his desk.
I greeted him with a smile and waited for him to wrap up his conversation.
I was going for confident, and I didn’t even have to put on that much of a show. I’d spent the last three days thinking about what I’d say to him and how this conversation was going to go.
My father stared at me. “Okay, Amah,” he said into the phone. “I have to go. But I’ll be in touch. Thank you.”
He put his phone down and continued to stare at me. “Bryce.”
“Dad.”
He looked away first. “Look. I know what you’re going to say.”
“You have no idea what I’m about to say.” His eyes narrowed at me and I wondered if that was how he’d looked at Michael. It fuelled my resolve to have this conversation. “You told Michael to leave me.”
“No, I said—”
“You said if he loved me, he should walk away.”
He clamped his mouth shut and changed tack. “I told him it was difficult for a parent to stand by. As a father, it was my duty—”
I sat forward in my seat. “You don’t get to parent me now. Dad, I love you, and I respect all you’ve accomplished. And yes, there was always food in the fridge and a roof over my head, but you never parented me. Wanna know who taught me how to tie shoelaces? Julia, the nanny from Ireland. I was five. Who helped me with my homework projects in primary school? Sharline, the nanny from England. Then I went to boarding school. Oh, and who taught me how to drive? Roger.” Roger had been my dad’s personal driver for years. “So don’t come at me with your parenting high horse bullshit.”
He levelled a cool stare at me. “You’re clearly still mad at me.”
“Mad doesn’t begin to cover it. You should have seen me on Friday night. I wasn’t kidding when I said it was probably best I didn’t see you face to face.”
He didn’t say anything for a long few seconds. “I can understand your anger. What I did was for your benefit. I’m sorry things ended between you and him, but if you want to be successful—”
“You’re not sorry.” The words were out before I could stop them. “What you did was cruel and unnecessary, and for no one’s benefit but your own.”
“That’s not true. I saw how busy you were, how well your business was set up, the effort you’d put into it, and how happy that made you. If you want that to continue, it needs to remain a priority. I know that’s probably not what you want to hear, but distractions at this point of your start-up could be detrimental to the business.”
“What was detrimental to my business was you telling Michael to leave me on opening day. On opening day!” I wanted to pull my hair out. He still didn’t get it. I doubted he ever would. “And stop calling him a distraction. You think the only way for someone to be successful is to be alone with no distractions. Like I told you before, Michael is not a distraction. He’s a person, a human being with emotions and a heart bigger than I deserve.”
“Bigger than you deserve?”
“Yes! I love him. And I won’t apologise to you for being happy. Well, I was happy. Until you fucked it up. You have just been biding your time and waiting, waiting, waiting for me to fuck something up. A successful business or a successful relationship, like they can’t exist in the same universe. But I can have both. If it kills me, god, I will have both. But now he won’t even speak to me because of what you said.” That wasn’t the truth, but he didn’t need to know that. The plan was to make him realise the damage he’d caused.