By the time he’s back in the room and resting, it’s been almost six hours. It’s the middle of the night, and since my mother is stubborn and refuses to leave, which I understand, I convinced her and Waverly to at least get us some coffee so we could stay awake. I also wanted a few moments alone with my dad, knowing that what happened tonight is going to change everything.
Hunched over in my chair, I rest one of my hands on my father’s, careful not to jostle the IV in his hand. Seeing him like this—frail, tired, broken—it’s stirring shit up inside. This man is my hero, the person I look up to in this world for guidance and an example of the man I strive to be. But even he is human, and life is fragile. The events of tonight are warning me of that fact more than anything.
“I can hear you thinking, Hayes.”
I lift my head at the sound of his voice, taking in his heavy eyes and slight smile when we make eye contact.
“Hey, Dad. How are you feeling?”
“Like I had a damn heart attack,” he jokes, and part of me feels tension leave my body just knowing that he’s still in there.
“Well, don’t do that then.”
“It’s not like I thought, hey… you know what would make tonight more fun? Let’s have a heart attack and scare my wife and son.”
I shake my head and then sit back in my chair, the ache in my spine screaming as I adjust myself to try to get more comfortable. “Yeah, Mom’s a mess.”
“I know. But how are you doing?”
“You’re the one in the hospital bed and you’re worried about me?”
“I always worry about you, Hayes. You’re my only son. And I don’t think I have to say it out loud for you to realize what me being in here means for you, do I?”
I nod, knowing exactly what he’s referring to. “Yeah, I know. I’m ready though, Dad,” I say, not sure who I’m trying to convince more of that fact—him or me.
“This isn’t how I wanted to hand over the reins, Hayes, but I think this is my wake-up call. I need you to step up, show me that this is what you want, that you can handle it. I know there’s a lot you don’t know about the company, but you’re smart and you listen to your gut. Prove to me that you can handle this, son. The last thing I need to worry about right now is my company in the wrong hands. I know I can trust you, but I also need to know that you’ll keep your priorities straight.”
Choking down the emotion threatening to escape my throat, I sit up in my chair and grab my father’s hand. “I won’t let you down, Dad. I can handle this. I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”
“That’s what I need to hear. Your mom will be there to take care of me, so don’t worry about that. I’ll let Alan know the shift is coming and he’ll alert the staff.”
“Alright,” I reply, knowing that this night changed my life in more ways than one.
* * *
“My head is spinning,” I tell Silas as I sit across from him in the bar down the street from my office. It’s the end of my first week as CEO and I feel defeated. How my father ever thought I could manage this is beyond me. I know property investments and the club circuit—that’s my niche. But by letting me stay there and grow comfortable, my father has done me a disservice. I hate to say I resent him right now, but I’m fucking drowning in responsibility and the stock investment side of the company that is completely foreign to me. Sure, I understand investments as a whole, but how that part of the company operates is an entirely different animal, and the non-stop meetings and paperwork have me wanting to pull my hair out.
My father said he believes in me, that I can handle this. The decision to hand over control was always on the horizon, but being thrown into it when you’re less than prepared was not what I was anticipating, and I don’t ever think I’ve felt my chest so tight before.
“Well, you’re the boss now. This is what you wanted, right?” Silas eyes me over the rim of his beer before taking a sip.
“Yes, but fuck, man. I had no idea it would be this hard. I’ve barely been home before nine o’clock all week.” And now I’m sitting in a bar with one of my best friends instead of heading home to my wife as well, but I need to fucking vent to someone who understands the pressure of being in charge. If Wes were in town, I would have invited him too, but then a part of me wants to speak frankly without him here—because if I’m being honest, my marriage is another source of stress for me right now and the last thing I want is for Wes to think I’m not making Waverly a priority.
I told her that I loved her, and I fucking meant it. The relationship that we’ve built over the last five months has made me happier than I ever thought I could be. But as soon as we built our foundation, an earthquake hit and rocked my world once more. The last thing I want is to fuck up what we have, and if this week is any indication, my doubts are full-fledged now that I can balance this all and come out with both the job and my wife by my side.
“I’ve barely seen my wife,” I add as Silas grimaces.
“See? This is why I don’t do the relationship thing, man. I can’t stand the idea of letting someone else down. I have a
