Jays POV
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Well done, my boy. Now go on back to your wife. My dad had said to me before leaving Dubai. It was an odd moment for us both, he is over wrought that I'm following in his footsteps of course. I am just walking two feet in front of the other and trying not to fall over. Trying to secure a future for my own child and wife.
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The process of becoming a dad, is allowing me to refathom my own father's actions and responses throughout my entire life. And in many ways I understand why he built such an empire. Why he wanted to provide in so many ways, for myself and my mother. I shake the thoughts off, focusing on seeing Taylor again.
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Touchdown is rocky but we hit the runway at LAX safely and I've got plans. I've always got plans but right now, my plans are focused on Taylor, my wife. It's midday here in Cali and I'm heading to the hospital. But this time not in a suit. I've got my jeans back on and a blue shirt. I left my briefcase in Dubai, work space and life space like my father instructed, saying to keep them seperate. A sentiment I utterly agree with, yet I wonder why he didn't follow these boundaries himself.
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I picture him taking me to the park in his business suit or pushing me on the swings with his business phone attached to his ear and vow not to be that dad. To not be dismissive of childhood. To prioritise my family at all times.
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My father eyed up the penthouse, when he invited himself over for dinner. He expressed that I could have bought bigger, better pool or maybe one with a gym. I laughed and told him it was just fine. He asked over and over about Taylor and the pregnancy, and oddly having her in my life even when she isn't around improves my relationships. Gives me something to focus on, someone to be proud of and talk about.
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I walk through LAX, and out toward the cabs to hail myself a ride ditching the cigarettes I brought over with me. No lingering smoke around the pregnant wife. I will end Matty if he has so much breathed a whiff of nicotine around her.
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A cab stops and I ask the driver to take me to the hospital. He responds to me differently, I'm not in my suit anymore, not the business man in Dubai. Just a young man in his jeans, at the airport. I squash my ego, refusing to turn into my father. Deliberately taking a look at the Rolex on my wrist which I see him eye through the mirror.
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I smirk pulling my phone out, not deliberately. I do have the newest iPhone. No messages from Taylor, but really I've never spent time away from her so I wouldn't know what to expect from her communication wise. My paranoid brain shouts at me that something is up. And so rationally I play out all of the scenarios in my head.
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First one is my worst fear, that something has happened to her or the baby. And I contemplate that for a few seconds looking out at the Californian sunshine. My wife though, I tell myself, would call me the second there was a problem. And so logically I discard that scenario.
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Second is Matthew. Matthew has kept her busy, and has attempted to make moves on my wife. This is entirely plausible, he loves her. She loved him once. I hasten to admit to myself, that considering my attachment to her, I couldn't walk away from a woman baring my child, no matter what. Frowning I review what I could have done differently. I don't lose ever, and Matthew needs to learn that, no matter what kind of wins he may get in the short term.
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Throughout my journey I contemplate my reactions to all of the situations and find ways of resolving them all before they have even occurred. It makes me feel better to feel as though I am in control of the situations before me. That I have a plan that beats everybody else's.
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The cab turns into the hospital and I breathe, relax and focus again on the here and now. No more assessing and speculating. I will be watching Matthew like a hawk, I will work out exactly what has occurred and then I will decide how to play next time.
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I tip the driver, it's the right thing to do. He looks at me shocked as he's already overcharged me on my fare but I figure he needs the cash. More than me. My dad would approve, it's something he would do himself. No matter the situation, play the upper hand. He would tell me.
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It’s a motto I’ve attributed to almost every situation in my life. Play the better game, take your loses and learn from them. If you make sure you play the part, you’re always going to be the winner.
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The meeting with the board was successful. Apart from the older members remembering me riding my bike through the office when I was six, which was somewhat embarrassing for me to say the least.
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I do have a seperate board room, just like my father. It daunts me to have such responsibility and high stake in a business that I really know nothing about. I stood looking through the large wall of windows, contemplating how I’m going to keep everyone below me happy and on my side. Being the CEO’s son isn’t the most honourable way of gaining my position and it needs careful consideration and social politics in order to gain that due respect and dominance.
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My father is a master at dominating meetings, he speaks and others listen. I spent my time evaluating his moves and at the end I asked him to hold back on a few things he's been considering. The room went silent, because nobody has ever interrupted my father. I explained my reasons and the board agreed with my logic. My father took my objectives on and changed tact. Dominance point one earned, respectfully.
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Interesting strategy, I like it. My dad had whispered to me at the end clapping me on the back before leaving for lunch. He dines daily. My mother is not a packed lunch maker. She's out making her own business moves on his behalf. In the same manner my mother is not the sort of woman you just take care of. She stands on her own two feet and runs her own team. I will be as successful as they are.
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Walking through the hospital I almost head for the ICU, double check my messages and turn to the private suites. Curious, I wonder about for a moment. I wasn't aware Ross' single mother was well off. Usually I know. It's like a stain on your name, everybody knows where you're from and what you've done to get there.
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I stride through the reception, nurse giving me the eye again. Disdainfully I imagine I may have to get some intel out of that one. I sigh and head on over to her.
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"Excuse me" I say in my most polite, non-imposing voice. Smile Jay, I tell myself.
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She looks up stunned and waits for my next comment.
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"I'm looking for Ross Peterson, you most likely wouldn't remember me but I visited him before in the ICU" I comment.
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"Of course" she smiles, she remembers me. She has been watching Taylor and Matthew, and she is useful.
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"Just through the corridor, first room on the right" she explains and I smile at her.
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"Thank you" I say genuinely and she smiles off guard.
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I follow her directions, pulling my hair back out of my face. The adrenaline of seeing Taylor hits me, and suddenly I'm unable to contain myself. Taylor makes me emotional, and that is something no other woman has managed to ever achieve.
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Pulling the lever down to the door, I say goodbye to calm, rational Jay. Opening up the door, to the sound of voices I take in the scene before me.
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Taylor facing Ross, who's seated on the side of what is the fanciest hospital bed I've ever seen. I make a mental note of looking up his mother's job. And then I chastise myself for becoming more and more like my father. I do not need to know, he is my friend and I am not at work.
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Taylor turns, disregarding Matthew and the hand he has on her lower back. My fists clench but I push that away watching Taylor approach me tears in her eyes.
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My baby has grown and my first instinct is to reach out for the mother of my child. She ends up in my arms and I close my eyes. Inhaling her scent, stroking her hair.
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"God I missed you" I whisper and she clings onto me. I can feel the baby kicking and I smile.
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"I love you Jay" she whispers and I smile opening my eyes and staring over her shoulder into Matthew's. Jealousy crossing his face quickly replaced by indifference. It tells me a lot, about the whole situation. But I must observe more before I make any judgements.
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"How are you, how's my baby" I say loud enough for all of them to hear. Including new guy who's currently trying to get Ross to take a step. A lanyard around his neck, must be a physio I think idly.
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"I'm great, baby is great. Jay, how was your father and the meeting" she asks, the events of the past few days have almost been removed from my brain within just a few seconds of being close to her.
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"It was horrifically boring" I laugh and she smirks, her hands going around my jaw, I pull her in close.
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She kisses me slowly and I savour every minute of it.
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I stand back regarding her, my hands cupping her belly. She smiles up at me and I stroke the tears away from her face. My wife, my child I think to myself looking up at Matthew as he looks away glancing back at Ross.
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“Nice to see you awake man” I tell Ross and he looks over at me. Taylor and I head over to the bed.
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Ross takes a step and Taylor claps. She congratulates him and I turn to Matthew whilst she’s distracted. I tell him that I’m thankful for him stepping in. It is tactical, I have the upper hand.
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