I just spoke to my friends at Columbia…” I say, carefully choosing my words.
“And?”
“Well…” I know I won’t convince him by phone. Dad seems to be in a rush, and he never takes time to think about my requests when he’s hurrying up a conversation. It’s better to go and talk to him in person. “May I speak to you in person?”
“Um, sure. I’m with Alex in his office.”
“Oh, alright, I’ll be there soon, then.” And I hang up.
For a second, I’m about to stand up on my own, but just as fast, my weak legs prevent me from doing so. They are not ready to support my body weight by any means. Then I call Cynthia, my tone laced with distress at my constant dependence. As she helps me walk back inside the house, I can’t help but curse under my breath at my own fate. To be dependent on someone to do things as basic as walking, showering, and dressing can cause even the nicest person to become annoyed pretty quickly.
As I stand in front of Alex’s office door, I knock before Cynthia can, and upon hearing an approval, I reach for the handle just as fast so I can open the door on my own. A small victory among an ocean of things I can’t do alone.
“May I?” I ask.
I find them sitting on the sofa as they analyze some sheets spread over the low table. Oh, Alex has his glasses on. He looks so damn hot with them on—it gives him that intellectually serious vibe that suits him so well. But he removes them upon seeing me. I should tell him he looks great with them on—but not in front of my dad.
“Hey,” Dad greets me. “Sure. Have a seat.”
I notice the empty armchair beside them, and I instruct Cynthia to help me over. As I slowly make my way toward them, I feel a bit embarrassed that Alex has to witness this. But as I glance over at them, they have already returned to their conversation and don’t seem to be paying attention. Good. I’d have hated to see their eyes filled with pity or impatience as they waited for me to sit.
With Cynthia’s assistance, I sit quietly in the armchair and wait for them to finish their talk. As I peer over at the sheets laying on the table, they seem to be about portfolio performances. From what I can see, the graphs are quite positive. Dad didn’t lie— it looks like it has been a really good year for them.
“So...” Dad looks back at me and I put on my best smile—the one I give when I need to be convincing. “What’s going on with your friends?”
“Well, they have changed their majors to economics-philosophy,” I tell him.
“Really? But didn’t they want to do finance like you?”
“Um, I thought so. But they said it makes more sense for them, ethically speaking,” I explain. “Do you think you can have a word with the dean so I can enroll in Public Economics? It’s one of their courses, and I’d like to enroll so I can see them from time to time.”
Totally caught by surprise, Dad asks, “You want to take even more classes than you have now?”
“Well, PE is similar to the dissertation I did last year, so I’m sure I’m gonna be fine.”
But he doesn’t look convinced. “You already have so many courses to take this year. Don’t you think it’s going to be too much?”
“Just that one is fine.” Letting out a sigh, I tell him, “They are the only friends I have at Columbia. And now, since we are doing everything from home, I don’t see how I’m gonna make new ones.”
Dad keeps quiet as he ponders my request. “Okay, let me have a talk with the dean and see what we can do.”
My mood lightens up immediately. I never thought I’d manage to convince him so easily. “You’re the best. Thank you,” I praise with a big grin.
“Roy, we have the Zoom call with management in ten minutes,” Alex informs my dad. “Should we go to the lounge?”
“Oh, I can leave,” I interpose just as fast, looking at my fiancé.
His striking blue eyes land on me, and with a smile on his lips, he gets up from his seat. “There is no need,” he replies, heading in my direction. Then, as he stands in front of me, he crouches down to be at my level. “There are a couple of books