Family Expectations

Nick hadn't seen his father in quite a while, and in all honesty, he didn't even want to see him. Sure, I hadn't been the best son, but he sure as hell wasn't the best father. He thought. 

Nick was quite surprised when his father called him and asked him to come home. The second he stepped inside the home, he was already in a bad mood. His father simply didn't know how to handle the situation when Nick wanted to start his own company and pushed him away instead of giving him the support and love that he needed.

Nick stood outside his father's study, listening to the quiet hum of the ticking clock on the wall. He took a deep breath before stepping inside, where the familiar scent of leather and faint hints of tobacco hung in the air. His father looked up as Nick entered, his gaze sharp but reserved.

"Nick", his father greeted, nodding as he gestured for him to sit.

They sat down across from each other, and his father didn't waste a second. "When are you planning to join our company?"

Nick's jaw tightened slightly, his eyes steady as he sighed. "Dad, I have my own business," he said, voice calm but firm. "I want to work on things I'm truly passionate about."

His father's expression softened—just for a second. He nodded, slowly, as if considering Nick's words. "I respect that," he began, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips. "And I want to apologise for misjudging you."

Nick blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

"When you started that gaming company", his father continued, his tone a mix of admiration and regret, "I thought you'd fail. Thought you'd stumble back, tail between your legs, within a year. But you proved me wrong. You worked hard, and now even my own friends talk about your success."

Nick's eyes softened, and for a moment, he felt a rare warmth from his father—a nod to the years he'd spent building his own path. But the warmth was brief, a flicker quickly snuffed out by the weight of expectation.

"Then why are you asking me to quit?" Nick asked quietly, his voice almost a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile bond between them.

His father leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and shook his head. "I never asked you to quit. But nobody knows about your connection here. I want people to see you as my son—the rightful heir. I've built this business over a lifetime, and just because you aren't interested doesn't mean it can go to someone else."

Nick's fists tightened on his knees as he searched his father's face, looking for an ounce of understanding. He wanted to remind him of his dreams and successes. Instead, he said, "Dad, Andrew is good at what he does. Why can't he take over? Why can't you give my shares to him?"

His father's face hardened, his eyes narrowing. "And make him equal to me?" His tone held a quiet fury, as if the idea alone were an insult. "You are a 20% shareholder of this company, Nick. I own 40%. Together, we're the majority, and Andrew only has 10%. The other investors want reassurance, and they want it from you."

Nick exhaled, feeling the familiar weight of his father's expectations settle heavily on his shoulders.

"I'm not asking you to give up everything, Nick," his father continued, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I'm only asking you to attend a board meeting. Show them who you are, and let them know that our family's business is in capable hands."

For a long moment, Nick was silent. The room felt thick with words unspoken, years of expectations his father had never put into words but which were now hanging between them like an invisible wall. He wanted to say no, to insist he wouldn't let himself be pulled back into a life that wasn't his. But he also knew his father's business was more than just a company; it was his legacy.

After a pause, he nodded reluctantly. "Fine. I'll go to the meeting."

His father tilted his head and narrowed his eyes while keeping his proud smile in place. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I know real estate isn't your passion, but it's our legacy. Someday, you'll have to take my place, and I want you to be ready."

Nick smiled and curtsied. 

He knew his father was unaware of the secret influence his mother had played over the years, the countless hours she'd spent encouraging Nick to learn about the family business. She'd made it clear she didn't expect anything from him but had planted a simple idea: "If the time comes, at least you'll know what to do. Your father has worked a lifetime to build this, and he deserves someone who can carry it forward, even if it's just temporary."

And so, out of respect for his mother, Nick had spent time learning. His natural curiosity, his eagerness to excel, had made him understand the business effortlessly, even if his heart hadn't been in it. Yet, looking at his father now, he understood his father.