Moushegh gave a bitter laugh. “That’s what young men say. Until they’re the ones sitting here.”
Raffi tried to find the words, something that didn’t sound like pity or rebellion. But nothing landed.
Moushegh filled the silence. “One day, when you are old, you will understand,” his dad said. “And if God blesses you with sons, you will understand further.”
Raffi looked at his father, this man who had built everything through grit and force and willpower. His dad still believed that strength meant silence. That asking for help was defeat.
Maybe Moushegh would never change. But Raffi could.
And if he ever had sons, he’d show them that being a man meant more than swallowing your fear. It could mean tenderness. Vulnerability. Joy.
Moushegh crossed his arms. “But the way it’s been going, it appears I will be cold in my grave by the time any grandchildren come around, if they ever do at all. When was the last time you brought a woman around, eh? Think you’re too good for them all, do you? Well, you’re not. Women are worth fighting for, making ourselves better for. I don’t understand why you treat them with such disrespect.”
Raffi was taken aback. First, his dad was giving him love advice? He really must think the end was near. Secondly, his dad had noticed anything at all about Raffi’s dating life?
“Dad, I don’t treat women disrespectfully. I’m very transparent—”
“Bah.” His father waved. “Sure you do. You never bring a woman home. That is disrespect.”
Dad knew about Raffi’s past dalliances? Gross. He supposed word did get around the Armenian community, but still.
“No, I just haven’t found the right—”
“Then look around! All your friends are married. Aram Vartanian is married, Daron Chamlian is married, even thatlittle runt Penyamin is married, and to quite a beauty I must add. Open your eyes, son. Do you think there’s anything more important than family?”
“Um—” Raffi stammered. He didn’t know his father felt this way at all. He hadn’t exactly invested much time in his. And he, his mother, and his father were hardly the picture of a close-knit family.
“Fooling around, satisfying your every desire, do you think that is manliness?”
Raffi suffered severe whiplash. Just moments before he was disgusted by his father’s definition of manliness, but now? This addendum sounded surprising.
Because his father wasn’t entirely wrong.
It wasn’t about needing a wife, that wasn’t the issue.
It was how Raffi had been moving through the world the last few years, mistaking honesty for decency. Even though he’d been hooking up less and less, he must have been subconsciously realizing that telling women he didn’t want a relationship didn’t automatically make his intimacy with them harmless. What if those women had felt something spark—like the kind of current he felt around Ani—and he’d walked away without even noticing? That part stung.
Because with Ani, the draw was undeniable, and they’d barely touched.Ani.
He wished he could tell his dad: “Yes, I did find someone I wanted to bring home, but she turned me down, so that’s that.”
“I mean…no.”
“That’s right.No, you jackass.” His father swore in Armenian. “It is to make sacrifices for your family.”
Maybe it was because he’d just held his father in his arms,broken his fall, and stopped a calamity that Raffi felt emboldened to talk back, something that had previously always terrified him. “Like you made sacrifices for ours, working endlessly so you didn’t have to see any of us?”
“Ungrateful boy! How dare you!”
“You didn’t have to workthatmuch. No one doe—”
“Who would have built the Garabedian empire otherwise? You say that, sitting pretty here in this winery I purchased, living off the life I made for you.”
Raffi shook his head. His dad was right in a way. Although the winery was in trouble and Raffi was stressed, he would take this role over any job he’d ever previously had. Especially the one he was most recently in, management consulting. If he never had to hear the wordsvalue chainoragile methodologyever again, it would be too soon. So yes, his dad had set him up with that.
“Fine, Dad. Thank you for working yourself nearly to death for us.”
“I don’t need your thanks. Get me some damn grandchildren to run around and break some of our finest vintage bottles, that’s what I want.”
