“What do you mean by that? You think I don’t want them to sell the building because I’m holding onto my dad’s memory?”
“Yes, I am. And I’m not sorry if you don’t know what it means to care deeply for someone—to the extent that you would hold onto even a fragment of what reminds you of them.”
It’s not your fault that you’re a sick, unfeeling asshole.
But I couldn’t add that. No matter how pissed I was at him. It’s just business to him.
Maybe I’m stupid for thinking he should act differently—because we’ll soon be family. Maybe I’m stupid for having this flicker of hope that, just maybe, he would back out because it’s the right thing to do.
He went silent. Tore his gaze away from me and started working on his laptop.
I guess that was my cue—the conversation was over. But I wasn’t done.
