Page 56 of A Brush with Love
“You act like it’s only me. She’s disappointed in you too, you know.”
Dan stopped, his back still to his father.
“You’ve let your poor mother down. She’ll lose the practicenow. Did you ever think about that? I’m here dying, and that poor woman will be directionless because you couldn’t do what needed to be done three years ago for your family. But you come here, in your hotshot suit with your promises to save the day while you hold your mother’s hand. Don’t pretend to be the hero, Dan.”
Dan tried to control the anger that shook him. He wanted to take those words from the air and shove them down the man’s throat until he choked. He wanted to ask why. Why did it matter so fucking much what he did for a career as long as he did something? Why did a family legacy matter to his father so much more than the family itself? And Dan wanted to ask himself why he couldn’t have done it. Why he couldn’t have kept the peace, gone to school, gone into practice, done what he’d been told to do. Guilt wrestled with rage as Dan looked at his mom through the small window in the door, her back hunched in sorrow, her face turned down.
Dan didn’t have a perfect relationship with his mom—she nagged, he didn’t call enough, they bickered and poked at each other—but he loved her. And, regardless of how irrelevant his father’s opinion was, the idea of being a disappointment to her wrecked him.
There wasn’t one thing Dan could have said that would cut his father as deeply as those words cut him. So, he did the only thing he could. He walked out of the room to go check on his mom.
Now, as he stood in his closet, holding that same suit, he felt a stab of loss over everything that had changed.
He was no longer that guy who loved his job. No longer climbing the corporate ladder. No longer talking to his mom.
He was a twenty-six-year-old, dissatisfied student, failing a program he wouldn’t graduate from until he’s thirty, with concrete plans to take over a practice he didn’t want at his grief-strickenmother’s demand. He was a passive bystander in his own life, the wants of others dictating his future.
He shoved the suit deep into the back of his closet and locked those bitter memories back in their box.
“I’m going to pick up Harper,” Dan yelled to Alex an hour later, pocketing his keys and wallet. “I’ll meet you at Lizzie and Indira’s. You have the address, right?”
Dan grabbed the wine bottle he’d bought, hoping to share a drink with Harper before the night officially started.
“You’re sure I should wear the silver tie?” Alex asked, walking into the kitchen in his dress shirt and underwear, a rainbow of silk ties clutched in both fists.
Dan shrugged, eyeing his friend. “You okay? You seem to be putting a lot of thought into this.”
Alex nodded absentmindedly, still analyzing his options. “I’m trying to make a good impression.”
“A good impression forThu?” Dan drew out the name with a hint of teasing, desperately grabbing at any lightness and humor he could to keep the earlier memories at bay.
“Yes,” Alex answered plainly, and Dan was surprised at the sincere anxiousness in his friend’s eyes.
“Don’t sweat the tie, Alex. You two will continue to hit it off. But if you don’t like the silver, go with the black with stripes. That’s a cool look.”
“Yeah?” Alex’s face lit up as if Dan had told him he was the prettiest girl at the ball.
Dan couldn’t hold back a laugh as he moved to the door. “Yeah. Text me if you have trouble finding the place,” he said over his shoulder, leaving the apartment.
Even the harsh wind on the street couldn’t dampen Dan’s mood as he made his way to Harper’s apartment.
Tonight felt pivotal. Important.
He wanted it to be perfect. He wanted Harper to have fun, to feel beautiful, cared for. He wanted her to see how right it was for them to take the leap.
Getting to her place, he punched the buzzer and bounced up and down on his toes, trying to warm up his frozen legs.
“Hello?” Harper’s voice crackled over the intercom.
“Hey! It’s me.” Right away, the buzzer sounded and the door clicked open.
Dan opted for the stairs, bolting up them two at a time to burn off the excited pulse of energy through his body. Reaching her unit, he took a moment to catch his breath, leaning his forehead against her door and giving his smile free rein.
With a deep breath, he knocked lightly and adjusted his tie. Dan heard heels clicking on the other side of the door, and Harper swung it open.
The air rushed from his lungs and his heart squeezed.
She was devastating.
