Chapter 45 There's an emptiness in my chest as I take a seat at the kitchen table across from my father. It's been about an hour since Camille left and I already miss her. This morning hasn't gone how I expected, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything that's happened. "Well," Dad begins with a whistle, his gaze focusing on me, "this morning sure has been interesting." I let out a sad laugh. I feel bad that he came to tell me in person about earning the board's trust and this is what he was met with. When I first saw him in the kitchen, I was worried that the sight of me with Camille might be another instance where I disappointed him. He hasn't made it seem like that at all. At least not yet, since I have no idea where this conversation is about to go. "I'm sorry for fucking up again," I get out, the guilt of what he walked in on this morning taking control of me. Dad waves his hand through the air. "Don't put words in my mouth. I didn't say you fucked anything up. I just said this morning was interesting." "I know Troy thinks differently, but it isn't just sex. And I swear that no matter what transpired with Camille, I was fully committed to impressing the board all summer." Dad nods. "I know." Something in my chest loosens at his words and I look at him, surprised. "You do?" He leans back in his chair, his gaze on me as he stays quiet for a bit. My fingers anxiously tap against the table as I wait for his answer. "A lot of the members of the board have been on it for years...some even decades. I know them well. I know they're hard to impress. When the summer started, they were furious with you. They didn't think you'd get it together enough to take over Davenport Media as quickly as I wanted to pass it on. But you changed their minds. When they talked to me, they were excited about the future. You've impressed them with your ideas and the time you took to get to know all of them. I know you were committed, Ryker. I'm proud of you, Son." My back falls against the back of the chair as my entire body relaxes. I can't help but smile because my father has said the words I've been so desperate to hear. "I'll keep making you proud," I promise, as my cheeks burn from the smile I give him. It feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. This summer has opened my eyes in so many ways. The thought of losing Davenport Media felt like a knife being driven through my heart. For generations, my family has worked hard on expanding the business and turning it into a media empire. I almost ripped it from the family just because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I don't know what would've happened to me if, for the first time since the company was created, it was run by someone who didn't carry the Davenport last name, but I'm sure as hell happy that I won't have to find out. "I know you will." Dad leans forward and places his hand on my shoulder. "Your mom would be proud of you too, Ryker. I hope you know that." My eyes sting as I stare at him. I swallow, my throat feeling incredibly thick at his mention of Mom. He never talks about her. I know it's because he misses her, so I never pushed him to do it. She was the love of his life. The loss hit him hard, but sometimes it felt lonely to not have anyone to talk about her with. "You think so?" I croak, placing my hand over my chest. There's a sting there at the mention of her name because I'd give anything for her to be here to say the words herself. Dad gives me a confident nod. He squeezes my shoulder again. "Yes. Ryker, I..." He pulls his gaze from mine and looks around the room. I watch as he takes a shaky deep breath, clearly struggling with whatever he's about to say. "I wasn't the best father to you after her death. Hell, even in her final weeks, I became absent, and I hate myself for it. I was so consumed by my own grief that I didn't have it in me to even think about what you were going through." I have to close my eyes for a moment to try and fight the intense sting of unshed tears. The only time I've ever seen Dad cry was at her funeral. I wasn't expecting to see the way his eyes gloss over now, and I don't know how to handle it. "Dad, it's⁠-" Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. He holds up his hand to stop me from saying anything else. His shoulders shake as he looks at the ceiling for a moment to compose himself before looking at me again. "I should've been there for you. I lost the love of my life, but you also lost your mother. And I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for forcing you to deal with that loss alone." "I wasn't there for you either," I tell him. It's true. We both dealt with the loss of her on our own. We didn't talk about her and we tried to move on with our lives. We both could've probably handled it differently. "You're not the parent, Ryker. You're a kid who lost his mom and was left to sit in his grief alone. I was so confused when you changed. I didn't understand how you became this totally different person after her death. And I blame myself for that because of course you changed. It kills me that I got upset with you instead of being there for you." All I can do is nod. Emotions clog my throat and prevent me from saying anything for the moment. I hate that he feels guilty-we both could've done things better-but I also needed to hear that he might understand why I changed. I need him to know that the person I became after Mom's passing isn't who I want to be. I'm trying to change. I'm doing my best and I hope he sees that. "I'm really trying to figure my shit out," I finally manage to get out. "I'm trying to be better." His face falls. "You already are, son. You're doing your best and that's what matters. Look what you've already done. I think some of the members are on their way to liking you more than they do me." I laugh and shake my head. "I am far more charming than you. Give me a year or two and I'll be the new favorite for all of them." This makes Dad laugh, and I like hearing it. I realize that I don't know the last time I heard him laugh. In fact, I don't know the last time we actually sat down and had a meaningful conversation like this. "I've been talking to someone," Dad finally says. "I realized it was time for me to maybe see a therapist. I'll respect whatever decision you make, but maybe you should too. I've only done three sessions, but it's helped. It could help you, too." I stare at him for a moment, not knowing what to say. The thought has crossed my mind on multiple occasions, but I was scared to admit I might need outside help. But knowing Dad went and talked with a therapist makes me wonder if it's time I do too. I don't hate who I've become as much as I used to, but I don't think talking through everything with someone would hurt. "Yeah," I respond. "Maybe I'll do that." Dad nods and looks around the kitchen. He lets out a long sigh as the heaviness of our conversation lingers between us. I don't know how long we sit in silence, but we both let each other sit with our thoughts. Finally, he clears his throat and breaks the silence. "It's good to be back here. In this house. Surrounded by her. I didn't realize I was avoiding this place until now." "I actually thought the same thing at the beginning of the summer." "She loved this house. So much. I see her everywhere." I smile, looking around as memories of Mom flood my mind. "Remember the time when a bird accidentally flew into the kitchen?" I ask, letting out a loud laugh as the mental picture pops into my mind as clear as day. Dad chuckles. "Oh my God, she screamed so loud I thought something terrible had happened. I remember running from the room so fast, thinking I was about to find something horrible in the kitchen." "Just her running around with a dish towel trying to scare an innocent bird right out of the house." We both laugh before drifting into a comfortable silence. "We had some really good times here," Dad notes. I nod, looking around the house and thinking back on all the memories that were made here. "I'm glad so many were with her." "Me too, son. Me too. She really was an incredible woman." I drag a hand over my mouth as I nod once again. She really was the best. I realize that for the first time in a long time, the memories of her aren't so bittersweet. I still miss her. I'll always miss her. But now, thinking about her doesn't just bring pain. I feel lucky enough to have had the time I did get with her. "So, want to tell me more about Camille Vaughn?" Dad asks.