Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 37197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
He scoffs and shakes his head but doesn’t say anything to refute my point. He doesn’t say anything at all, actually. I want to believe on some level I’m getting through to him. Or that maybe he’s already come to the same conclusions, but his pride won’t let him acknowledge it. I’m not going to push. That’s a conversation that can be had another time and isn’t the broader point I want to make here today.
“Micah, I know it surprised you to see me with Harlow. I get it. But you two haven’t dated in years, and like we told you, it was a chance thing when our paths crossed again. We clicked and started seeing each other,” I tell him. “This wasn’t some plan to fuck you over or hurt you. It just happened. It wasn’t something either of us planned, and no, we weren’t plotting behind your back and seeing each other all those years ago. That’s just fucking nonsense.”
“She’s half your age,” he finally says weakly.
“She is. And yeah, maybe it’s strange, but I’m not going to apologize for it,” I tell him. “We just clicked. Sometimes, you click with somebody you never expected to click with. That’s what happened here.”
“Dating somebody half your age makes you look ridiculous. It makes you look desperate or like you’re having a mid-life crisis,” he replies, his tone filled with disgust.
“And since when have I given a shit about what other people thought of me?”
He doesn’t respond because he knows that I genuinely don’t care what other people think of me. I never have. I have a solid sense of who I am and what I’m about, and nobody’s half-assed opinion is going to make me feel bad about my choices. Harlow is a twenty-three-year-old woman with her own thoughts and the ability to make her own decisions. They don’t know me. Don’t know what we have, so as far as I’m concerned, they can fuck all the way off if they’re going to judge me.
“Why did it have to be her? Why did you have to go after somebody I was with? It’s just fucking weird,” he whines.
“I didn’t go after her. Like I told you, it all just happened. Running into her was a complete coincidence,” I reply. “I know you don’t believe me, but it’s the truth. We didn’t plan this, kid.”
“But you knew I was with her when your paths crossed.”
“Yeah, I knew you’d dated her years ago,” I tell him. “And from what I remember, you didn’t treat her all that well. Your temper and inability to treat her well drove her away.”
“Whatever.”
“Harlow is a special woman, and I love her.”
“Wow, that’s fantastic,” he says dryly.
“One day, you’re going to realize that we don’t get chances at genuine love and happiness all that often in life, and once you find it, you’d be a fool to not grab on and refuse to let go,” I tell him. “What Harlow and I have is special. It’s one of those rare and beautiful things life sometimes gives you. I love her and she makes me genuinely happy.”
“Great. I’m happy for you. So, you’re just here to rub it in my face?”
“No. I’m here to tell you that we’re going to be together whether you like it or not. She is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me,” I reply. “I don’t need nor am I seeking your approval to be with her. This is happening, Micah.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing here?”
“Because you’re my son, Micah. And whether you believe it or not, I love you,” I tell him. “I’m here because I wanted to be honest and transparent with you about my relationship with Harlow. And to tell you that she’s going to be around. Hopefully, for a long time.”
“Should I applaud? If not, then what the fuck do you want?”
“I’m telling you all this because I love you and still want a relationship with you. I want to fix what’s wrong between us,” I tell him. “But I wanted to tell you that as much as I want that, I’m not going to compromise my own happiness for it. I have a right to happiness. As do you. But if you’re not mature enough to handle seeing me with Harlow, then I don’t know what to tell you. But my hope is that you’ll do a little growing and maturing and will be able to handle it and still have a relationship with me.”
“Are you serious right now?”
“I’m dead serious,” I respond. “I’m your father. I’ll always want a relationship with you. And I’m always willing to put in the work to fix those things that are broken between us. But I felt I owed it to you to give you the lay of the land and tell you honestly what a relationship with me is going to look like. It’s time to grow up a bit, son.”