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Once I end the call with the last client call of the evening, I take a moment to collect myself. My mind is racing with thoughts of what I need to do next to secure my plan. I know that I need to make sure that Margaret doesn’t try to cross me, but I also need to find a way to get Julia fully on my side.
I walk over to the window and look out at the city below. The lights twinkle in the distance, and I feel a sense of power. I know that I have the ability to make things happen, to bend the world to my will, but I don’t want that. Not even a little bit. All I want isher.
My mind begins to wander, and I can feel the heat rising in my chest as I think about her soft skin and her beautiful smile… The sudden knock at the door pulls me back to reality with a jump. I turn to see my assistant, Paula, standing there with a stack of papers in her hand.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Van den Bosch,” she says quickly, “but I have the new financial reports for you to sign.”
I take the papers and quickly scan them. I sign off on them without really looking at the details and hand them back. It’s all just a distraction, but the paperwork is a necessary evil.
As Paula leaves, I have to stomp down a wave of frustration. I know that I'm wasting my time on these mundane tasks, but I also know that I can't ignore them. I take a deep breath and try to clear my mind.
I return to my desk and begin to go over my notes. I have a list of people that I need to talk to, and I know that I need to be strategic about how I approach them. I spend the next hour going over the details of my next few days, regarding both Julia and Margaret, but also Dad and the company, making sure that every aspect is covered.
Despite how awful I have felt recently, there is excitement building. I know that I'm on the cusp of something big, and I can't wait to see it all come together.
18
Sebastian
I’m just aboutto pack up for the evening when my office phone begins to ring. I consider not picking it up at all, completely done with the day, but something makes me turn around and pick the receiver up.
“Sebastian, it’s Karl. Your dad came in about thirty minutes ago to see how the day went and he’s in his office. I was going to come tell you in person but my secretary just told me she buzzed a nurse in to go and see him, so I figured you’d want to know as soon as possible.”
My blood runs cold at his words. “Thanks, on my way,” I tell him shortly, hanging up and not even bothering to say goodbye. Of course my stubborn, ridiculous father would arrive without telling me and then have some sort of medical emergency!
Only the fact that it’s a nurse attending to him and not a gaggle of paramedics keeps me from sprinting all the way up the stairs to his office. Everything is still relatively peaceful once I’m in the hallway leading there, so I slow down and catch my breath, not wanting to alarm him by busting in wheezing.
The lights are down low, and I see my dad sitting on the couch with a nurse taking his vitals. There is an IV stand next to him giving him fluids, while the machine on the top of it keeps track of his pulse. I feel a twinge of worry in my chest. He’s always been so strong, and to see him like this is jarring.
“My boy,” Dad says softly, and I come to him, bending over to give him a quick embrace before jerking my head to the nurse, indicating I want to talk to her off to the side.
The nurse quietly tells me that his pulse is very low, and she recommends that he be admitted in a clinic. I nod, feeling the weight of the situation settle on my shoulders. I know that I need to be strong for him, but it's hard when everything feels like it’s falling apart.
“Does he need to go tonight?” I ask, and the nurse shakes her head.
“He’s stable, and I’ll stay with him once he gets home, as well. I just worry that one nurse isn’t enough care for him.”
“How…” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “How long do you think he will need to stay? He loves his job…”
“The stress and grief are very, very hard on his heart. I think your father would also benefit from seeing a therapist, as well. When he begins to process his grief, his physical health will improve, too.”
After thanking the nurse and dismissing her, I go to sit next to my father, who looks glad to see me. Dad is normally never here, on the couch. He’s always behind his desk, looking like he’s in control of the entire universe, and it’s so painful to see such small but clear indications of his decline.
“Everyone tells me that you handled the press conference perfectly,” Dad says, patting me on the shoulder as I sit down next to him. “Good job, son. I knew I was leaving the company in the best possible hands.”
“Thanks.” I take a deep breath and try to steady my nerves. “Dad, look…I know you've been taking antidepressants, and that you’ve been having problems with your heart.” My voice is barely above a whisper. “And I want you to know that it’s okay. It’s all okay. We’ll get through it.”
He turns his head away, shaking it. “I don’t want to talk about this right now. I didn’t come to the office to talk about my damn health.”
I refuse to hear it, though. He can’t continue to avoid things just because it hurts to face them. “There’s nothing we can do but move forward, Dad,” I insist, leaning in so he can’t avoid looking at me. “We can’t go back in time no matter how much we want to.”
My dad lowers his gaze and then, to my horror, begins to cry in earnest, his tears falling freely down his face. It’s the first time he’s cried since the funeral, and it breaks my heart to see him in such pain. As if on instinct, my arms go around his shoulders, and I pull him into me so I support him as he exercises his demons, tear by tear.
“I should have spent more time with them,” he gasps between sobs. “But I didn't, and now they’re gone. I–fuck, I don’t even recall the last time I told Dina I loved her. I’d give anything to hold your mother one more time.”
It takes every ounce of my willpower not to succumb and cry too, and I have to suck in air through my teeth to remain in control. “Dad, you need to take care of yourself,” I say firmly. “You can’t keep pushing yourself like this.”
