“Karan.” Rachel places a hand on my thigh, near the laptop. “It’s not too late for you to pursue this.”
“There’s no time,” I argue. “I’ll have to get another job, and job hunting alone is going to be a hell of a ride.”
I look at her and soften my expression.
“And the rest of the time I have, I want to spend it with you.”
Rachel cocks her head sideways and sighs at my comment.
“And I appreciate that so much, Karan. But that’s not what I meant.” She touches the laptop again. “I meant pursue this professionally. Start your own studio. Apply for grants. The whole thing.”
My heart skips a beat, then starts hammering against my chest. It takes longer for my brain to process what Rachel is suggesting, and when it does, the words are out of my mouth faster than I can anticipate:
“No. Rachel, no.”
“Why not?”
“I… I can’t.”
I pick up the laptop and set it aside, then grab both of Rachel’s hands. The moment Rachel told me she was pregnant all those years ago was the moment I knew it was already too late for this, and things haven’t changed.
“I’ll be on minimum wage for at least a year, probably more.”
There’s a government grant for business owners in the creative media sector that provides us with mentorship and a minimum wage, but that doesn’t cover additional wages for other team members I’ll need. And getting additional grants can take years.
“There’s no guarantee I could ever make enough to get the kids through college. No… I’ll just get another job in the game industry. Not in software…” I squeeze her hands. “I promise.”
“Karan.” Rachel’s brow furrows. “No. You’ve given up every opportunity you had to achieve your dream, because of me.”
“It wasn’t because of yo—”
“It was.” She bites her lip. “I was the one who told you to take the Ubisoft job.”
“It was a sensible decision.” One my parents would have made, even if the games industry isn’t one they respect. “It was a good decision.”
“It wasn’t your decision, though. I took that choice away from you.” Rachel leans closer to me. “But what if you had the chance to pursue whatyouwant, for once?”
I look away. Allow myself, just for a moment, to dream.
“That… would be wonderful.”
My heart leaps at the thought of having my own studio. Pursuing my own vision.
The thought withers and dies as quickly as it came to life.
“But it’s too big a risk.”
“It’s really not,” Rachel argues. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. We could sell the condo and move to the South Shore, off the isla—”
“Rache—”
She places a finger on my lip. “Shush. Hear me out, please.”
I sigh, not daring to truly hope yet, and nod.
“This place is worth a ton more than what we paid for it, and it’s in a prime area,” she continues. “There’s no need for us to live right here. On the South Shore, we’ll still be close to our family…”
Her voice trails off as she seemingly remembers that we won’t be talking tomyfamily anytime soon.
