“I already ordered, if that’s okay? I was starving.”
“Sure.”
“I got you your usual.”
“Thanks,” I said, putting down the menu, annoyed I couldn’t use it as a momentary distraction, but secretly happy I had a burger with pepperjack cheese, avocado, and jalapeño on the way. I was pretty hungry after my workout.
“How are you?” asked Nathan, gently prying.
“Fine, I guess.” I shrugged.
“Look, I don’t like the way we left things after the family dinner…”
Of course, Nathan would just get right down to it. He was much more open with his feelings than me. It almost felt like the roles were reversed in moments like these. I knew as the older brother, I should be the one to try and patch things up, yet here he was taking the reins as always.
“Yeah,” I muttered.
“It’s hard sometimes,” he said, his voice distant as he ran his fingers down the condensation of his glass. The bartender came by with my beer and set it on the table.
“What is?” I asked, giving the bartender a nod of thanks before he returned to the bar.
“Seeing you and Greg at odds. Always.”
“I thought you’d be used to it by now.” I took a sip of beer.
“I’ll never be used to feeling like I have to choose between you two. I hate being in the middle of the riff you two have. He’s mydad, Chandler.”
I grimaced slightly, knowing it must be hard on him to be in such an awkward position. I was mostly to blame for putting him there. I was sure it was a lot to shoulder.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m going to tell you anyway,” said Nathan. I looked up at him and tilted my head curiously. “Now, I know you have your own shit with your dad. I never met the guy, but he sounds like a real creep.”
That was the understatement of the year.
“It’s not fair what happened to you and Mom, and I know you probably hate anyone who comes near her. But Greg is a good man. I lucked out with him being my dad. He is the best dad I could ask for. I was lucky to grow up with him.”
I grunted my acknowledgment. Even though we didn’t see eye to eye a lot, I knew Greg was a good father to Nathan. I saw it in the way Nathan was, in the way he was sitting here so easily articulating his feelings even if it was uncomfortable. I could see it in how hard Nathan studied and worked to be the best. He was a good guy, and it was a testament to how he was raised.
“Why are you saying all this?” I asked softly.
“Because I thinkyoucould be a good dad, too, if you put the bullshit that happened behind you.”
I took another sip of beer, letting his words soak in. He sounded just like Greg. And Wyatt. All of these people were telling me that I coulddothis, and I was starting to believe it. I was startingto want to be the person they all thought I could be because Gabriella deserved that. The time apart from her had only made me realize that my feelings ran deeper than I had ever let on. I was tired of letting fear hold me back. I was tired of thinking I would be happier alone and that everyone else would be better off without me in their lives.
“I think so too,” I said, my voice strained, not used to agreeing with people who think they know me better than myself.
Nathan smiled triumphantly. The server came by with our burgers, giving us a well-timed intermission from our conversation. We chowed down and changed the subject to school and sports and stocks, lightening the mood. He knew his point had gotten across. And I knew what I had to do next.
I had to tell Gabriella how I felt. It was time to step up and be the man she needed, and the man our baby needed. It was early on, and I had my own shit to work out, but I was determined to do so by the time the baby was earthside. I could be ten times the man my father was. I knew we could have a life that I had never imagined for myself, but now wanted more than I ever thought possible.
But we couldn’t have that life until I sorted out the mess that was my life, starting with Mr. Harold. Before we wrapped up dinner, I quickly typed out an email to Mr. Harold, requesting to meet with him. To my surprise, by the end of the night, he replied and agreed to have a meeting at the office tomorrow morning.
I showed up five minutes early, avoiding the curious stares of the employees as I strode past. Questions must have filled the room, but I just looked straight ahead until I reached my old office, where Mr. Harold sat behind the desk looking perplexed. He looked older than the last time I saw him just a few days ago. Hell, I felt aged myself. I cleared my throat, bringing his attention to me. My jaw tensed slightly under his icy stare.
“Shut the door,” he said.
I did as he said and took a seat in the armchair across from him.
“Now, tell me why the hell you’re here,” he said.
