Page 107 of A Lot Like Adiós
Maybe he would get a plant.
Fabian sat behind the desk and Gabe took a seat in one of the leather armchairs facing him.
They were quiet for a moment, before Fabian said, “So we’re really doing this.”
Gabe shrugged. “What choice do we have?”
“There’s always a choice, Gabe.” Fabian steepled his fingers under his chin. “If you wanted to keep the business, I could help you figure it out. It doesn’t all have to go to Powell.”
“You have enough on your plate,” Gabe protested. “This is the easiest and cleanest course of action.”
And besides, why not now? If Gabe had to take out loans or find other investors so he could buy Fabian out, who was to say he wouldn’t find himself in this position again further down the line? And without as sweet a deal as Powell was offering.
“I don’t want you to do this only because of me,” Fabian argued. “I want you to want this too.”
Gabe spread his hands. “What do you want me to say? That I want to sell? I don’t. But this is too good an opportunity to pass up, and I’m not going to drag it out when you need to move on.”
And the thought of running this business without Fabian was terrifying. They’d been a team from the beginning. He’d never have that bond with Powell.
Fabian grimaced. “This was your dream. I don’t want to be the one who makes you give it up.”
“You’re not.” Gabe thought about Michelle’s presentation. “And anyway, I’m starting to realize that what the gym is now... is not what I envisioned.”
Fabian nodded and looked uncomfortable. “I thought about that sometimes. But everything seemed to be going well, so I figured it was okay. And dude... I don’t want you to thinkI’m bringing this up to influence you or anything, but you’ve seemed kind of...”
“Kind of what? Just tell me.”
Fabian shrugged. “Like utterly fucking miserable. For at least a year now. Definitely since you took on more admin duties.”
Gabe folded his hands over his middle and leaned back in the chair.
“I fucking hate calendar alerts,” he admitted. “And emails. And meetings.”
Fabian huffed out a laugh. “I know you do. You’ve made it pretty fucking obvious.”
But Gabe also hated the idea of giving up, of throwing away everything he’d worked for and being left with nothing.
Well, money. He’d have the money.
But it had never been about the money. It had been about building something with his name on it. It had been about creating a space where he could help people with his own two hands.
Not that the money was nothing. He remembered the way his parents had struggled and saved back when the four of them lived in a small two-bedroom apartment. His father had been so proud of being able to buy the house they lived in now.
At the time, Gabe had been six, and he’d put his foot down. He hadn’t wanted to move, so he’d insisted he would stay behind in their old apartment. His father had imparted the lesson he would then go on to repeat multiple times over the years.
You need family. No one makes it alone.
Gabe had set out at eighteen to prove him wrong. To prove he could do it himself, without his family. Here in Fabian’shouse, surrounded by his parents, his sister, his wife, and his two babies, it was hard not to see the truth of those words. Gabe was still sure he didn’t want to be a father, and he wasn’t sold on the institution of marriage. But companionship? A partner to stand by your side? The support of your community, whether it was biological or found family? He was starting to see the value of those things.
He was about to make the hardest, biggest decision of his adult life, and he didn’t have anyone to discuss it with. There was Fabian, but Fabian was part of the decision. Gabe imagined Fabian had discussed it at length with Iris, who, in addition to being his wife, was a big-time Hollywood lawyer. He’d probably talked about it with his parents, too, and maybe even his younger sister.
Hell, Michelle had all but begged Gabe to talk about it with her, and he’d shut her out. He hadn’t wanted to admit his failures, his doubts. Hadn’t wanted to speak them out loud, to show her that side of him.
Michelle, who had seen him and his business more clearly than he had himself. She’d cut right to the heart of Agility. And he still hadn’t let her in, insisting he had to make this choice alone.
But he was fooling himself. He’d traded his father for Powell, letting someone else roll over him and sway his decisions. So long as Powell was involved, Agility would never truly be his.
When Gabe had been younger and his father’s store was failing, Esteban had refused to see the writing on the wall, sure that if they all just worked harder, it would pan out. His drive had stifled Gabe’s own dreams, until the only recourse had been toleave. Gabe had tried talking to his parents about his future, and they’d shut him down. They needed him at the store, they said. Family worked together. No one could do it alone.
