“How did you get into photography then?”
“I’ve always been into photography. It’s all I ever wanted to do.”
“Then why did you go to school for something else?”
Chase inhaled deeply, licking his lips, and Andie shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m asking too many questions.”
“No, you’re not,” he said. It was just that he hadn’t spoken about any of this in so long. But he realized then that he actually wanted to talk about it. More specifically, he wanted to talk about it with her.
“I went to school for veterinary science because my dad would have pretty much disowned me if I went for photography.”
“He didn’t approve?” she asked, and Chase laughed.
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“What did he want you to do?”
“He wanted me to be a doctor, like him. Oh wait, excuse me, a surgeon,” he corrected with a roll of his eyes. “God forbid you referred to him as merely a doctor.”
He shrugged, running his hand through his hair. “I wasn’t interested in being a doctor,” he said, his voice losing the sarcastic edge. “So I picked what I thought would be the next best thing. At least in his eyes.”
“And it wasn’t?” Andie asked, and Chase turned his head to look at her. If he had seen sympathy or pity in her eyes, he would have ended the conversation right there. He didn’t want to be pitied. But the only thing he could find behind those expressive eyes was genuine interest.
“No, it wasn’t,” he said, meeting her gaze before turning back to the road. “He used to send me applications to schools with pre-med programs all the time, with little notes saying it wasn’t too late to change my mind, that he could pull some strings and get me in. I made the dean’s list almost every semester I was there, and you know what he’d say? ‘This will look great on your medical school applications,’” he mimicked, deepening his voice. “Never once did he acknowledge it as its own accomplishment. He would tell people that his son was at Cornell. I guess that was prestigious enough for him, but if they asked what my major was, he’d tell them it was undeclared while I was choosing a med school.” He laughed, shaking his head.
Chase took a deep breath, pulling himself out of the memory. “After a while, I started to think about transferring. I figured med school couldn’t be as bad as being a constant disappointment. But then he left,” he said with an indifferent shrug.
“He left?”
“I’m sorry, I should have been more specific. He moved in with the nurse he’d been screwing behind my mother’s back for three years.”
Andie’s eyes went wide as her mouth dropped a little.
“You know what the messed up thing was, though? For a while after, I kept thinking I should have just gone to med school. That if I had just sucked it up and did what he wanted me to do, he would have been happy, and then he would have stayed.” He looked over at Andie. “But I know that’s not true. He was who he was. Nothing I did was ever gonna be good enough for him.”
Andie sat there with her eyes downcast, fiddling with her fingers. “How old were you?” she asked.
“Nineteen. I was right about to start my third year at Cornell. I almost didn’t go back. I mean shit, the only reason I started that stupid degree was for him. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I worked my ass off there. And I wasn’t gonna let him take that from me. So I finished my degree. That being said, if your dog or ferret or hamster ever gets the flu, you know who to call.”
Andie laughed softly before her expression straightened again. “Do you still talk to him?”
He shook his head. “He calls sometimes. I’m not sure if it’s because his conscience gets the better of him every so often or because he’s bored and just looking to push someone around, but either way, I’m not interested.”
It was silent for a moment before Andie said, “It sounds like you guys were better off without him.”
“I definitely was, that’s for sure. But my mom?” He shook his head. “She was devastated. I never understood why she loved that prick, but she was lost without him. Most of my time was spent taking care of her after that. Just trying to put her back together.”
“Well, I’m glad she had you,” Andie said with such conviction that Chase felt a slight pang in his chest. He smiled gently at her.
“Are you and your mom still close?” she asked.
“She died four years ago.”
He heard the soft intake of breath before she whispered, “Chase. I’m so sorry.”
The ache in his chest intensified. And not because he was talking about his asshole father, or because he was thinking about his mother. It was because of the way she said those words. It was an automatic response for someone to say they were sorry when a loved one died. It was rote. Robotic, even. A formality.
But the sincerity and the compassion she had injected into those four words washed over him, making him feel entirely vulnerable, yet at the same time, completely at peace.
“You know that thing you said yesterday, about everything happening for a reason?” Chase took a deep breath before he looked over at her. “I never believed that before, but I hope you’re right. I hope it will all make sense to me one day.”
She smiled sadly, and when he noticed her eyes were glassy, he cleared his throat, looking away from her. Chase tightened his hand on the wheel, fighting the overwhelming urge he had to reach over to her.
“There’s a positive to all this, though,” he said, wanting to convince her. “I mean, I spent the first part of my life trying to please my father, and the second part of it living for my mother. And now I don’t live for anyone but myself.”
Andie said nothing, and after a minute, Chase turned to her. “I know that sounds selfish and insensitive, but Dr. Seuss says it’s okay.”
“What?” she asked with a tiny laugh.
“Come on, English major, you’ve never read Dr. Seuss? ‘Be who you are, and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.’” He turned his eyes back to the road. “I do what I want to do. I refuse to hold back what I’m thinking or what I’m feeling anymore. And if someone doesn’t like it, then they don’t need to be in my life. If that makes me an asshole, then so be it. I don’t want to spend any more time trying to make other people happy. Life is much more enjoyable when you’re surrounded by people who just accept you for you.”
The car grew silent, but he could see her still fiddling with her fingers out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t agree with me,” he finally said.
“No, I do…I just…” She trailed off.
“Are you really going to try and dispute a Seussian point? Isn’t that sacrilegious?”
Andie laughed. “No, I just…I just think that sometimes, it’s better to do what you know is right.”
“Even if that means living according to someone else’s standards? If it means denying yourself happiness?” he asked. “You think that’s better?”
“Well, maybe not better, but it’s…smarter sometimes? Or safer?” She shook her head quickly. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m saying.”
There it was again, that bizarre reference to being safe.
Chase glanced over at her before he said, “Are you telling me you’ve never done something just for you? For no other reason besides the fact that it was what you wanted? Screw consequences?”
“Yeah, when I went snooping around Justin’s wine cellar. Look how that turned out.”
Chase laughed before he said, “I’m serious, though. You’ve never tossed aside everyone else’s opinions and just went for something you wanted?”
She shrugged, saying nothing as she looked away from him.