Chapter 6
Brittany
I sat back in my seat and considered Dalton’s request for a brief second. I found myself compelled to do just as he ordered. I wasn’t certain my secrets were on the same level as he might be thinking, but somehow, I found myself feeling safe in revealing them to him.
“I hate business school,” I said. “I don’t mean just dislike, I mean deep, soul-crushing hate. There are days I sit through class and think up all the ways I could escape to an island somewhere and never be seen again. Anything but go back to class one more time.”
“If you despise it that much, why do it?”
“Because unlike you, I never could figure what I would do if I incurred the wrath of my father. I always toe the line, and fall into the plan he has laid out for me. I think he could concisely tell you where I will be in five, ten, twenty years. Even who he has hand selected to marry me, and how many children I will end up bearing.” Sarcasm dripped from the words I had long bottled up.
“I’m sure the gentleman in question would be a fine upstanding citizen, with a large stick up his ass and huge bank account,” Dalton teased.
“I’m sure he would. Please don’t forget any man worthy of me must have a fantastic ability to hobnob with my father, friends, acquaintances and run a huge company. He of course would be of the highest caliber to meet my father’s standards.”
“Wait,” he said. “You mean just like all those examples of business leaders you were telling me about in that fancy book earlier. You aren’t reading case studies—you’re shopping for your husband, admit it.”
I felt the harshness of years of being stagnant in my life due to every major decision being made for me without a thought to my wishes. I gave a bitter laugh. “Oh yeah, he could be off bilking the next generation of millions and I could be having children for my mother to groom properly. I mean, I would be well-educated and have an MBA from one of the finest schools, so I would then be qualified to do these activities for the rest of my life.”
Dalton gave me a strange look. “Do you even want kids?”
“No! I mean, I don’t want them as a means to the end of the picture-perfect doctor or business man’s life. I absolutely adore other people’s children, but I cannot see a moment where I would want to put another small human through the existence that I have experienced. When I think of children, I would want them to be happy, joyful, and messy. That certainly doesn’t describe my childhood. How about you?” I found myself sitting forward in my chair to concentrate on his answer.
“That’s a tough question. Would I have loved children if things had been different? Absolutely. But I would never risk a child in my life these days. I agree they are wondrous, messy, and joyful creatures, though. I find myself standing in shopping lines sometimes just grinning at the antics of the little rug rats,” he said with a huge smile. “Children say and do whatever they think, from a place of absolute innocence. They are so sure of their position in this life, as the center of attention.”
“You could change things, you know?” I said, wanting to encourage him for some unknown reason.
He had once again slipped into that pensive, far-off place he went time and again. He was such a hard-looking individual, and then would say something super sweet and get that look on his face. It made me to want to go to him, wrap my arms around him, and never let go.
“If you could do anything in the world, what would you want to do for the rest of your life?” Dalton asked after a few quiet moments, catching me off guard.
“Paint,” I said without even a heartbeat of contemplation.
“An artist. I would never have guessed that of you,” Dalton said, looking impressed.
“I love the colors, the passion, and the sentiment that an artist can put to canvas. That level of self-expression is so freeing and yet sharing that much of yourself with the world is so scary at the same time,” I explained.
“It’s crazy, I’ve lived that life. Not caring what tomorrow holds, and throwing it all on the line for something you believe in. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out the way I had hoped,” Dalton said with that far-off look returning to his eyes.
“At least you tried,” I said. “Then again, I’m assuming that if given the chance you would go back and do things safer like me though, right? They always say hindsight is twenty-twenty.”
“I would love to say I would do it differently. I always wonder if I had made a different choice when my moment came, if the guilt of non-action would have caused me to push an even more dramatic path,” he said looking off into the distance. “The interesting thing about life is we get no second chances. Sometimes you need to feel the pain, fear, and desperation to know you’re alive.”
I considered that statement. I didn’t feel. I got up each day and did as I was instructed. I never stepped over the line, broke even the smallest of rules, or did anything inappropriate. Until I’d met Dalton, I conceded as I looked across the table. He was that unexpected crossroads that was causing me to feel, open up, and consider other options from life.
I was like a moth to the flame. I seemed intuitively to know this was a bad idea, but the pretty bright flame that was Dalton kept drawing me in.