weeks,” my brother announces. “I might tell her to leave his ass. I bet he’ll sell that hellhole once she stops taking shit from him.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Do you think Abby is going to take that kind of shit from you?”
“Abby and I aren’t together?”
“Where are you going?” His annoying voice booms inside the car.
“It’s none of your fucking business.”
“Little Abby and I were just on the phone, talking about Mom’s trip. She’s in Tahoe,” he pauses, and I swear, I know the asshole is smirking. “She’s waiting for you—because it’s her birthday weekend.”
“We’re not together. I’m just visiting her because I couldn’t last Monday.”
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” His tone is serious. “You didn’t go to visit her on her birthday—because of work. That’s not a way to treat your girl.”
“She’s not my girl,” I groan.
I don’t explain to him why I skipped her birthday. I wanted to celebrate that day just with her. When Mom announced that they were visiting her I changed my plans. I don’t tell him any of that—it’ll solidify his theory. I’m not ready to discuss my relationship with Abby with him.
“Not yet,” he corrects. “You’re in love with her, and one day you’ll make a move. The question is, what kind of relationship are you planning on having? The one where you can’t live without her or the one where you live for Dad and his fucking money?”
I hit the wheel. The traffic isn’t moving. The Denver Tech Center is a fucking nightmare at noon, even worse than downtown. A fifteen-minute drive is taking an eternity. Longer than this call.
“Live your life; believe in your future. I know you think I’m a selfish bastard for doing what I love, but I’m not,” he pauses. “You only have this life. It’s not a rehearsal, it’s happening as we speak. Mom always tells you that. You should listen to her, not to the man who doesn’t know how to live—or love.”
I know that he’s right about living my own fucking life. As a matter of fact, I don’t want to be like Dad. Or have a relationship like the one my parents have. Mom says she’s happy, but my heart breaks every time her face falls because Dad puts work before her.
I hate to admit it, but my little brother is right. If I continue on this path, no one is going to be happy—not even our father. At this point, I have no fucking idea how to please him. Nothing I do is enough. He always needs just a little more.
More time. More money. More power.
“What are you going to tell Dad when he calls?” I retake the conversation. This is why I called him, not to discuss my life.
“To go to hell,” he says with pride. “I don’t need his money, and I’ve never had his love.”
“He loves you.”
“Stop defending him, Wes. The guy only loves money.” He huffs. “Hey, I have to go but call me tomorrow. Abby and I have to shake some sense into you.”
Sterling hangs up before we can settle the argument. The call leaves me with a bitter taste. If I can’t change Dad’s mind, I’m going to be stuck doing something I hate. Leaving him isn’t an option. Mom deserves better. Maybe this is the last thing on his to-do list before retiring. If not, I can just take over the company for him. But the question is: will he trust me with it?
Actually, I don’t care if he trusts me with it. I’d rather have his approval when I tell him that I want to start my own company than bother with his. What I really want is to be my own person—not become him.
Chapter Seven
Abby
I gasp and open my eyes when I hear the doorbell. Grabbing my phone and my glasses, I walk toward the entrance.
“Who is it?”
“Wes,” I hear his voice.
“Wes?” I unlock the door and swing it open.
His eyes are red, soulless, and his shoulders sagging.
“What happened?”
“Dad,” he whispers.
“Are you two still fighting?”
I have no idea what happened between them. Two weeks ago, Wes and I met in Tahoe to celebrate my birthday. Something was bothering him, but he refused to talk about it. At least not until he found a solution. Three days ago, he called telling me that he fought with Will. They weren’t talking. And now ...
“He’s your dad,” I cup his handsome face with both hands. “No matter what you do, he’s never going to stop loving you.”
“He’s dead,”