But somewhere along the way, he got lost at the top. As a kid, I never doubted that if I looked out into the stands, my father would be there cheering me on at one of my football games. Even when he was busy with mergers and meetings, he would drop everything if I needed advice. I did what he asked because my parents had made sure to instill the importance of familyin us. Family came first. But everything changed when I started high school. Instead of prioritizing making it home for dinner or coming to one of my games, he worked tirelessly and always had a social event that he couldn’t miss.
Our family would attend countless events together. At first, it was the five of us. My sisters never minded because they loved to dress up even as kids, but I was always sullen about going. My father would parade me around the room, introducing me to his colleagues and associates. Sometimes, if I was lucky, there would be a kid my age dragged into the same situation, but oftentimes not. As I got older, my father started leaving my mother and the twins at home and just forcing me to go.
The older I became, the more I realized my father’s intentions. That's when the issues started.
10 yearsago
“I’m not going,” I shouted as I left the kitchen and headed down the hall to my room.
My father’s footsteps followed me.
He was always calm and collected. Jonathan Woods never raised his voice, and I knew a lecture about my tone was about to land any moment.
“Parker James Woods, you remember whose house you’re in. I will not tolerate shouting. Not at me—and definitely not at your mother. Do make sure you apologize to her.” He said while crossing the threshold.
I sighed, knowing he was right. “I’m sorry, Dad. But that doesn’t change anything, I’m not going to Howard anymore—I’m moving to New York. You cannot force me to attend your Alma Mater or to go to these galas and conferences anymore.That’s not my dream. It’s yours. I’m eighteen, and you have to let me make my own choices.”
My father’s fist slamming on my bedroom desk has me jumping to my feet. “Thisisour dream son. My father taught me the business, and I taught it to you. Your grandfather and his father before him built this from the ground up—brick by brick. People laughed and said he couldn’t do it, and he built one of the largest oil companies on the East Coast. You do not take that for granted and walk away from your family for a silly dream.”
I didn’t know which action I was more stunned by: the slamming of his fist on my desk or the fact that he raised his voice. Backing down isn’t an option. For years, I played this role, and I was done with it. He’s never even asked me what I wanted to do with my life. Since I started high school, he’s turned into a completely different person. It feels like I’m the only one who has noticed, or maybe it’s because I’m the target of all his ire these days. At some point, my father stopped getting to know me and showed no interest in my life; his sole focus has been to mold me into the man he wants me to be.
“What do you know about family? You’ve barely been here. Aren’t you late for a flight?” I mutter under my breath. “All you do is work and work. It’s always about Gentry and a client here or there. The twins cry every time you leave, and Mom mopes around the house while you’re away. Why would I want that?”
He storms towards me with his fist clenched, not stopping until our noses are close to touching.
“You seem to have no problem benefiting from the luxuries that Gentry brings to this family. The work that I’m doing bought you that nice car in the garage and pays for the roof over your head, it pays for the girl’s ballet classes and the extravagant birthday parties you all enjoy so much.”
He just doesn’t fucking get it.
All the anger and emotions I’ve been feeling bubble to the surface.
“I’m asking one thing of you, the same thing that was asked of me. You have two choices, Parker. You can go to Howard, do your time there, and take your place at Gentry, or you can give up the cushy lifestyle you’ve become so accustomed to.”
My mother stood in the doorway with her mouth ajar like she wanted to protest. But she didn’t, she never did.
“You both always taught me that family was everything.” Shaking my head, I released a humorless laugh. “I guess all that was bullshit.”
From out of the corner of my eye, I saw my father’s fist. The punch never landed because my mother was holding his arm back. He gave me one last look before shrugging out her hold and storming out of my room.
That solidified my decision. I couldn’t stay here. He thought he could control me through my inheritance and make me into his protégé—I wouldn’t bend. I wanted to live life on my own terms.
A thought came to me. I powered up my laptop and began to type, “Requirements to become a firefighter in New York.”
I lefthome and never looked back, only seeing my mother and siblings when they visited New York. I wasn’t happy with the way our relationship turned out, but I wasn’t willing to take his verbal abuse either to keep the peace. The twins dealt with their familial issues in their own way, and I couldn’t judge them for it. They never knew the other version of Jonathan Woods.
As the older brother, I felt guilty at times. I left home when they were thirteen years old, and I’d always regret missing outon their milestones. Although they never gave me grief over it, I knew at the time it had to have hurt them. I did my best to try to show up for them now in my own way. Our daily group chat messages made it feel like we weren’t states away from each other—they kept me updated on just about everything, even the things I didn’t want to know. But I didn’t complain because I loved them, even if sometimes I thought they wanted to send me into an early grave.
Just as I was about to hit the lights and settle into bed, my phone rang. I looked down to see that it was Evelyn.
I was met with her sobs. I heard her panting in between her cries, just trying to catch a breath.
I jumped out of the bed, not caring that I was dressed in just my boxers as I hightailed it to her room. I didn’t think to knock as I barged in to find her curled up on the floor, fighting to breathe.
Right away, I could tell she’s having a panic attack. Her eyes widened in terror as she clawed at her chest in earnest with tears falling without abandon. My heart ached at the sight of her.
Rushing to meet her on the floor, I took her in my arms with her back against my bare chest.
“You’re safe. I want you to squeeze my arms real tight and just breathe with me. I’m here, and you’re safe.”
