Page 30 of Executive Decision

“Don’t give me that look,” Chandler said.

His face, pulled tight in a scowl, said it all. I was asking too much. Chandler wouldn’t be happy with what I asked, nor would he be likely to grant support. However, I needed to try. I sympathized with his position. This week was critical to us in many ways. I needed to “be good”, as he’d say, and listen. Unfortunately, I felt pulled across the ocean by my tortured heart.

“Dad is declining steadily.” I moved forward despite his protesting look. “Mum says I need to come home—that this may be my last?—”

“I’ve heard that three times in the past two months. He always rallies. This is no different.”

“Darling, it is. The sound of her voice was chilling.”

“I knew it was your mother. Daphne, you will do anything she asks you to do. It’s ridiculous.”

“Because she is my mother and he’s my father!”

“Yes, the Delphines! You couldn’t possibly stay away.” Disdain permeated his words.

“Chandler, I trust when they tell me it is bad. You don’t understand.” I slumped on our bed—where nothing happened in a house that remained too quiet apart from constant arguments.

“If you go, Daphne, you will miss this cycle. Again, we will fail to conceive. Think about all the money and time you will have wasted. All because your family?—”

I glared, “It is my father! He’s dying, Chandler!”

“And that is sad, but you can do nothing to stop it, Daphne.”

I struggled to find something he understood. “It looks bad in the public eye for me to not return home. Davey is dealing with a challenging market and we have a board that needs us to appearsolidas a family.”

“Daphne, I love you. I care about your father, too. I know he’s this important and larger-than-life figure. Ialsoknow your dividends matter and?—”

“Don’t you think you could just be a little more understanding, Chandler?”

“I have given you awideberth. What more do you want?”

“I’ve only known he was dying for a few months, Chandler. And when I came home, you didn’t do anything differently.”

“It’s not my fault he held that all back!”

“He didn’t want to ruin Christmas,” I sobbed.

Dad gave the news while we walked the shoreline on a still day—one I’d never forget. Since then, every time I saw him in between fertility treatments and transatlantic flights, I lost more of him. The man who loved me most was dying.

“Well, I didn’t want to disturb the normalcy. We have lives to live. It is very sad to lose your father, but… life goes on. We need to focus on our family now. Darling, you must cut the apron strings. This attachment to your family isn’t healthy at all. It’s our family or yours.”

I reeled with his words. Our family. It was never complete until we carried a child into the long-vacant nursery.

Choosing to leave meant choosing his wrath—the silence, the destruction, all of it. There was nothing I could do to stop him being this way. There was no way to fight it.

“I will go after the embryo transfer,” I acquiesced to avoid another argument, more broken objects, and a loss of my safety for one more night.

“Do you think it is wise to travel?” Chandler raised an eyebrow.

“That is the compromise I can give you,” I answered. “It’s my dad. I love him. He needs me.”

“Fine.” Chandler turned back to the paper, barely satisfied.

Neither of us was happy, but it was all I could give. My heart was shattered in pieces across the Atlantic while my body suffered here in London—feeling more human pincushion than prospective parent.

PARTII

THE END OF AN ERA

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