Reborn

A firm knock shattered the heavy sound of typing. He had been expecting that knock, but wished it would never happen. With a reluctant push of a button on his desk, the polished wooden door slid open, revealing a woman the age of forty. He couldn’t even dare to look up from his four work monitors.

It was his youngest.

At least she wore decent shoes, David thought as the clean sound of high heels on his black marble floors came from the door. The dull blue of her denim dress eventually appeared in the corner of his eye.

“Sit,” he said, as he continued typing.

She sat down, hands on her lap.

“Hello, father.” At least the voice was crisp, and pronunciation was still fine. She didn’t deserve his response, though.

After a few moments, she opened her mouth again. “Father, I have come to talk about what I’ve been going through.”

He finally looked up.

Millie had his eyes. His deep blue eyes. The rest looked completely different from twenty-two years ago. Her makeup didn’t suit her, her hair was in a loose French braid, and there was fear in her eyes, along with a touch of keenness.

“Speak,” he said.

“I believe I made the right choice.”

Go on, David thought, I wonder what you could possibly get from that path you chose.

“I know you put a lot of effort into growing your company, so you may not have heard of the movie ‘Hunters of Death.’ But, I am proud to say that I was the screenwriter, and this piece won an Oscar.”

The word “Oscar” never had an impact on him. It was nothing compared to the Nobel Prize of Economic Sciences. He kept his stare, dull and fierce, but couldn’t help softening a little internally at the sight of such a desperate daughter.

“I just want to let you know, father, that you’ve been forcing yourself too much. I’ve never seen you smile for anything other than earning money.”

He let her say those piercing words, seeing where she would go with her nonsense.

“I don’t want to see you in the exact same expression I’ve seen everyday from when I was born all the way until the last time I see you.”

She was brave enough to mention death in front of him. This screenwriting decision definitely made her mind abnormal.

“I want to see you smile because of love, connection, and passion. I want to see your heart guiding your life, not money or recognition or any other things.”

He was on the brink of yelling. But, he held it, just to see if she were to go anywhere more odd.

“I want to be treated like a daughter, fath-”

“ENOUGH!” He slapped his desk and stood up.

One word was enough to paint her eyes red. Emotions like this would be long gone if she was a business woman.

“Do you know how much time I spent on finding the best private tutor in the country for you? Do you know how much effort I spent searching for the top international competitions for you? Do you know how many nights I spent awake planning out your whole future?!”

The tear rolled out of her eye. Weak.

He spent so much time giving all the best things for her, and now she had come to say that she wasn’t treated like a daughter? Which other daughter in the world could have their future planned out precisely at the age of two?

“Look at Lianna! What is she right now?” he demanded, eager to know if his youngest still remembered her older siblings.

“A neurosurgeon?”

“Never answer a question in the tone of a question,” David said, glaring into her terrified eyes. “What about Jeremy?”

“A biomedical engineer.”

“Kaden?”

“A CEO.”

“Of what?”

“Shubert. A technology company.”

“And what were you supposed to be?”

“A business woman.”

“It was the least tiring out of all the others! And what are you now?”

“A screenwriter.”

“And how much do you earn a year?”

“Around $102 000.”

“How much does Lianna make annually?”

“$600 000.”

David sat down, massaging his wrinkled eyes. “Look at this difference!”

Silence. She’s waiting for my anger to disappear, just like when she was young, David thought, but it would never be gone.

“What’s so important about this difference when I can afford to live and be the happiest version of myself?” came the reply.

Too much fiction. Definitely. Writing fiction and reading fiction. Her mind was not in the real world anymore.

“I want to do what I want, father. It’s my own life. And you must control your own as well.”

“Control my own? Well, look at how well I’ve con-”

“With your heart.”

She just interrupted him. What had gone into her? And, control life with his heart? Nonsense!

“Never interrupt me ever again. If you were a business woman, I would pay a little more respect. But, not when you are a weak screenwriter with a head full of-”

“But, I want to guide you, father. You’ve been-”

“I SAID DO NOT INTERRUPT ME EVER AGAIN!”

Anger drove him. But as he saw her mascara smudging, his heart hesitated for a second. The smudging only meant one thing, though - cheap.

A sudden pain in David’s lungs started a coughing fit. Millie quickly rushed over and rubbed her father’s back. She took out a napkin, and David spat onto it. His breathing calmed down after a few moments.

“Let go,” he said, and his daughter returned to her seat. “If it had been Lianna, she would’ve done something more effective.”

“Father, can I just request you to do one thing for me? Take care of yourself. Even though I’ve barely seen you for my whole life, I want you to be healthy and most importantly, happy. I want you to do what you genuinely love.”

It was the coughing for sure. The coughing that made him disoriented since he was actually reflecting about what Millie said. None other child told him to take care of himself, and do things he loved. He loved his position, his power, his wealth. But, genuinely…

“You can never live happier without wealth and recognition. It’s the truth. The recipe to life,” he responded.

“Dad,” Millie said, a serious look in her damp eyes. “What type of childhood did you have to make you so competitive?”

Dad… David was suddenly thinking about his past. He remembered the only time his father touched his shoulder was to look at a report card. The only time he talked with his older brother was to ask about a math problem. He remembered starting a hierarchy drawing of people around him based on power and intelligence.

“Nothing. I was just really hardworking. Now, I think you’re wasting my time. Please go.” He had to stop this conversation. It was too much.

“But, father, I want to see you change! I want to see you smile the next time I see you! Can you please promise me-”

“Leave.”

“To learn to love. Learn to connect. Learn to-”

“GET OUT!” David stood up, pointing towards the door, nostrils flaring.

“Live.”

And with that, Millie stood up slowly, and walked out of the office.

Exhaustion wrapped itself around David. His seventy-five-year-old throat couldn’t manage so much yelling. Yet, Millie’s last words somehow stabbed him in the heart, and he felt a tiny sense of regret for being so harsh. He sat back down, closing his eyes. Then, he looked out his floor-to-cieling window.

Birds, he suddenly noticed for the first time in fifty years. Flowers, trees, grass…

His fingers loosened against his desk, and slowly, he walked towards the glass.

He wasn’t ordered to.

He didn’t do it for image.

He wasn’t earning any money.

A vital organ was simply reborn - his heart.