“You’re not a psychologist!” Trey spat. “You can’t just choose those things for me. Do those things and expect me to think that it was a good idea when I find out that you had an ulterior motive for commanding me to give up Ambi.”
“I never commanded you to give her up. I gave you a choice. I also never said that I wouldn’t support you, whatever that choice was. You read between the lines what you wanted to read. You never asked me for clarification. You’ve never once said you didn’t enjoy working here.”
“I work here because it was expected.”
“I’ve never expected that of you, Trey. I wanted you to continue on the legacy here, wanted you to take the company and make it your own if that’s what you wanted, but if not, that’s fine. I want you to be happy. I would never tell you to stay here and waste your life on something that you didn’t love doing.”
“No!” Trey banged his hand on top of the desk. His dad never flinched once. “You can’t just say those things now and act like it’s all my fault. Like all of this was a misunderstanding.”
That time, Dale did flinch. “I’m sorry, Trey. I really am. I didn’t know. I didn’t know you were unhappy. I didn’t know you were so serious about Ambi. I wanted you to fight for her and when you didn’t, I just thought she was not the right one. I gave you a job here because I thought you wanted to do this. You never once told me otherwise. You never told me how you felt. About anything.”
Trey slowly shifted back in the chair. It creaked under his weight, all that fancy square modernness of it not doing a damn thing to help bear the load of his shame and sorrow. The weight of realization. The weight of regret.
His dad was right. He’d never once voiced his feelings. He’d gone through life, doing what he thought was expected. He and his father didn’t talk. Not even on their fishing trips. They didn’t talk about their feelings. They were men. His dad was old-school. That kind of thing wasn’t easy for him and Trey never instigated a conversation about it. It wasn’t easy for him either. His mom had always been the go-between for them and without her there to mediate and spell out what the other was feeling, it was like all those lines of communication had been burned and he was just guessing. Was it possible he’d guessed wrong? For so many years?
“There are things I regret, Trey,” his dad said, slowly. “I regret that we never talked about this properly. That we’re just doing it now. When I saw Ambi at the party a few nights ago, I knew why she was there. I knew it. I just didn’t know if you did. I was trying to push you in the right direction. The direction where you finally fought for her. If I’d just come out and asked you if you loved her and gave you my blessing, would that have been easier for you? Would you have been able to communicate to her what you felt for her? Would you have fought so hard for her? Would you have been able to tell me now that you love her and that you aren’t happy where you are? Would you ever have left here? I didn’t know how to talk to you, Trey. I’m your father and it’s the one thing I was never able to do. Talk. Feel openly. That’s not my strong suit. I’m sorry about that. For my failings and shortcomings. I was trying to push you into taking that step forward or stepping back for good. Can you see that? Maybe I was wrong…”
“I don’t know,” Trey shook his head. “It’s going to take me some time to process this properly, because yeah, it probably would have been easier for you to tell me that I had your blessing.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know any other way than to make you fight for her like I fought for your mother. To make you realize, for yourself, just how far you were willing to go for her. That you don’t just love her, but that you truly cherish her. That you’re truly in love. I needed to make sure that you weren’t just giving your heart to anyone and that you’d be willing to move heaven and earth for her because that’s the only way these things actually work. The only way you’ll ever succeed is to have the kind of love that they write stories about. I had it. I never lost it. I still have it, even though your mom isn’t here anymore.”
“I- dad…” Trey raked his hand through his hair again. He let out a sigh that wasn’t so much frustration as it was just a release of everything. Everything he’d held pent up so tight for the past five years.