“Yep.”
“Damnit, Ryan! She was my favorite.”
“Mine too, which is why I bent her over your desk just for spite.”
“You’re a pig.”
“I know. My penis has not been faithful to you. When it gets hurt, it has a tendency to self-sabotage. Feel better?”
“Kind of.”
We share a smile.
“I do love you back, you know?”
“We’re good,” he assures as he pulls up his phone. “I want more background on this asshole.”
I cover his phone with my hand. “Don’t. Promise me you won’t. Promise me.”
“Why?”
“Because I know all I need to about him. And he’s not the enemy.”
“Fine. But I hate him.”
“I do too.”
He lifts a brow. “No, you don’t.”
I turn to him, my eyes stinging. “Ryan, he owes me, and I’m here to collect. And the only way I can do that is if this deal goes my way. This is really important to me.”
He grips my hand and kisses the back of it before letting go. “I’ve got you.”
“Thank you.” Turning the ignition, I freeze when I see Tobias standing in front of my hood on the sidewalk staring directly into the car, his lethal gaze on Ryan before drifting to me. In the next second, he disappears down the row of cars and out of sight.
“That wasn’t scary at all,” Ryan speaks up next to me. “Should I expect to see a bloody, decapitated horse head in my hotel bed in the morning?”
Still in my car, I sit out another bout of freezing rain in the front of the house as silence lingers on the other side of the line.
“Christy? You there?”
I glance down at the phone in my lap and see the call is connected, the seconds ticking by.
“Chris—”
“Let me get this straight,” I hear the swish of her bathwater. “Three days ago, you called me to help you with the seating chart for your posh, high society Atlanta wedding, and today you’re in Triple Falls because you had a dream, tore up your wedding dress, broke up with your fiancé, decided to sell your father’s business to a man who ripped you apart, and shortly after your college boyfriend confessed he was still in love with you?”
“Yes, I know it sounds crazy but—”
“Crazy? No, crazy would be a downgrade. This is a late-season Grey’s Anatomy episode. Everything but the kitchen sink.”
I’d dropped Ryan off at his hotel, and though he said we were okay, I knew he turned down dinner due to our awkward drive back to town. He’d all but ignored me by answering emails, but I felt the distance. Had I been so oblivious to his feelings?
“I feel awful.”
“Everyone knew he was in love with you. I saw his face when Collin proposed, and it was so sad.”
“Now I feel worse.”
“You didn’t lead him on, but damn, how I miss having boy problems.”
“You have the perfect husband.”
“He left the toilet seat up last night and didn’t flush. I fell into the toilet and woke up both my children, and we all screamed until dawn. I’m still not talking to him.”
I can’t help the laughter that bubbles up. The world I left seems so far away now as I gaze at Roman’s front door.
“I’ve really lost it this time, haven’t I?”
“No, you did the right thing.”
“You think so?”
“No, Collin is gorgeous, funny, charming, and your equal in every way.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me. But if you don’t love him enough to marry him, you shouldn’t marry him.”
“I do love Collin, just not the way I love him.”
“It’s unhealthy.”
“I know.”
“That man has caused you nothing but pain.”
“I know.”
“He wrecked you.”
“I know. And when I saw him today, I swear to God, my whole body lit up. I didn’t imagine it, Christy, none of it.”
“And did he feel the same way?”
“Even Ryan said he felt it.”
“He said that?”
“Yes.”
“So, I’m guessing after six years he still holds a grudge because you slept with his brother?”
Lies, all lies I told in lieu of the truth I can never confess.
Even so, part of me thinks that’s some of the reason why it was so easy for Tobias to keep his distance and let me go.
“What are you doing, Cecelia?”
“I don’t know,” I say as the day catches up with me. I picture Collin in our house, staring at the wedding invitations I left stacked on the table. Tears gather and fall at the thought. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling.
“What have I done?”
“You threw your life away for a man who doesn’t at all deserve you. Babe, a better friend would have you admitted.”
“I know it seems crazy, but I have to see this through.”
“Go back to Collin. He’ll take you back.”
“I told him the truth.”
“You what?!”
“I had to.” And today was all the proof I needed. It was there. Healthy or not. It was there, everything I felt for him, and I can’t deny it. Especially now.
“Jesus, Cecelia. What did Collin say?”
“He hung up on me. And I don’t blame him.”
“What a shitshow. Look, I know I was joking, but are you okay?”
“No. No, I’m not. But what am I supposed to do? I can’t continue living a lie, and that’s all I’ve been doing. It’s not fair to either of us and today…I got my answer. Not that it’s the one I wanted, but it was there. It was still there. I hate that I’m still in love with him. I hate that being within feet of him had the same effect on me.”
“Do you want him back?”
“I don’t want to love him,” I whisper hoarsely. “Stupidly, I thought…”
“Thought what?”
“I thought I would see him, and my adult brain would kick in and reason with my stupid heart.”
“That you would see him differently, and it would put your feelings in perspective?”
“Exactly.”
“But that’s not what happened.”
“No.”
“Well, I love you. And if this is what you feel you need to do, and where you need to be, then do it. I’m behind you, and I’ll be here. Just try to get some sleep.”
“I will. I Love you.”
“Love you.”
Making my way up to the bedroom, I feel the weight of the day take its toll. For years I’ve imagined this day, seeing Tobias again and finally being able to unleash some of my anger while gaining the upper hand. But it never works out like I imagine it would. And with him, it never will. But Christy is right. If I ever had a chance of making it with anyone, it was Collin. And despite my emotions winning and the realizations I’ve been faced with, remorse wins as I pull my engagement ring out of my purse, slip it on my finger, and cry myself to sleep.
Ryan sips his coffee and eyes me over his laptop. “He’s going to blow a gasket when he sees this. Daily morning meetings? Moving headquarters temporarily to Triple Falls, and, are you serious?” He points to the list of conditions I handed him.
“Yep.”
“You sure he’ll go for this?”
“Yep.” And he will because he thinks he’ll win. Tobias is overconfident when it comes to me, always has been. Despite the kick to the chest yesterday, I’m determined to keep it business.
Ryan types a mile a minute as I kick back with my coffee, a smirk on my lips.
“You’re determined to piss this guy off.”
“Like I said, he owes me—either way, we’re selling. Go ahead and entertain another bid. Make sure he catches wind of it.”
“Aside from you, what’s this guy’s interest in the company?”
“It’s personal.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.”
“Shooting it off now.” He sits back and eyes me. “What exactly are you hoping to gain here?”
“Perspective.”
“And you need it. Why?”
I glance down at the ring on my finger. “Because I need to atone for what I’ve done.”
“How so?”
“People got hurt because of us. People are still getting hurt.”
“This is about a breakup?”
“Not exactly.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he slams his computer shut and shoves it into his satchel before standing.
“Ryan, I’m sorry, but I can’t—”
He snatches his jacket and pulls it on. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Ryan—”
I move to go after him when my phone buzzes in my pocket, a local area code, and a number I don’t recognize.
“Cecelia Horner.”
“Do you think this is fucking funny?”
I can’t help my smile. “Good morning, Tobias. I’m looking forward to working together.”
“This isn’t happening. I’ve given in to all your other demands.”
“All except one. The only one that matters.”
“You do realize you’re fucking with the wrong man.” Not a question.
“You don’t think I know who you are or what you’re capable of?” I hiss walking to the corner of the lobby where I’m not heard and look up at the surveillance camera, knowing his eyes are on me.
“Ezekiel Tobias King, Born Ezekiel Tobias Baran, July 30th nineteen eighty-four, thirty-six-years old, son of Celine Moreau, and adopted son of Guillaume Beau King. A US transplant at age six, you were orphaned at age eleven along with one brother, Jean Dominic King, who died at age twenty-six, no autopsy.” I swallow away the ache with every word.
“You went to France at age sixteen to attend IPESUP prep school to ensure your acceptance to the prestigious HEC Paris to earn your business degree. You spent your time wisely recruiting and vetting old relatives to build an alliance for your cause. After graduating, you started your company, Exodus Inc and went public with it four years ago. The net worth as of the close of business yesterday is sitting just below two billion dollars. Just after you formed your company, you began to search for your last living and close relative, your birth father, Abijah Baran, a French Hebrew and member of Parti Radical until he was diagnosed with schizophrenia at age twenty-eight. Six years ago, you found him. Shortly after, you had him committed to a mental institution, Centre Hospitalier Sainte-Anne, in the 14th arrondissement in Paris, where you visit him annually. A fact you’ve hidden from everyone in your life. His association with certain extremists and his mental disease no doubt one of the reasons why you never married and have no living heirs, and a large part of the reason for your secrecy. That and the fact that the only thing you have ever truly fucking cared about in this life is your immediate family, your personal vendetta against Roman Horner, your ambitious agenda, and getting your goddamn way.” I lift my chin to the camera. “Know your opponent, Tobias. You’re move, King.”
I hang up and walk outside to spot Ryan halfway down the square and decide to give him space because I can’t give him answers. I know how he feels, I’m fighting tooth and nail to get my own.
“Cecelia, is that you?” Crossing Main Street, I turn to see Melinda racing toward me, her eyes wide.
“Hey, Melinda, how are you?”
“As I live and breathe, girl, you only get more beautiful, look at you,” she says as she grips me to her in a hug. I hug her back just as tightly before she pulls away. “You’re just gorgeous. All grown up.”
“Thank you, you look great.”
“That’s because I just spent a hundred dollars on my hair.” She runs her hand through it. “And don’t BS me. You just left without a word. I was so worried about you. And when you didn’t come back for your father’s—” She reads my expression and falters.
“I’m sorry, I had some personal things come up and just took off.”
“Are you staying long?”
“For a little while. Not long.”
She lights up. “Well, we have a wedding in the family coming up. You remember my little niece, Cassie? She’s getting married! Can you believe she’s so grown up? Seems like just yesterday I was telling you about her baptism.” As always, she easily sorts through her phone and lifts a picture.
“She’s beautiful.”
“She is, and he’s so handsome. Are you doing anything right now? Come on, let’s have lunch.”
Searching the street for any sign of Ryan, I come up empty.
“Sure.”
Her eyes light up.
“Perfect, I know just the place.” We walk Main Street, Valentine’s decorations in almost every glass storefront, remnants of early morning snow beneath our booted feet.
Dizzied by her conversation, she guides me into a restaurant as she tells me about an upcoming play she’s in. Once seated, a basket of bread is placed before us, along with two glasses of water and a menu. It’s when I see the logo on the front of it that my heart stops—The Pitt Stop.
“You catchin’ feelings, Pup?”
I trace the letters with my finger and look up past Melinda’s shoulder as she rattles on about the plant. Rows and rows of pictures of the Roberts family line the walls, and I strain to study each one; when I manage to find one of Sean in his early twenties, arms crossed as he leans against his Nova, his hazel eyes shining as he smiles for the camera.
My heart explodes into rhythm as my eyes begin to burn. Melinda reads my expression. She glances around and then back at me.
“Oh, honey, I wasn’t thinking, I really wasn’t. Are you okay being here? I guess I should have asked, but by the size of the rock you’re sporting on your finger, it looks like you moved on and moved on well.”
I glance down at the diamond on my finger. It’s a little ostentatious in size, but all I see when I look at it is the love in his eyes when Collin presented me with it at our company Christmas party. Before I can answer, a young waitress takes our drink order. I rattle off iced tea and unable to resist, I stand and tell Melinda I need to use the restroom.
I spend the better part of ten minutes studying the walls, every glimpse of him excruciating. He got his looks from his mother mostly, his build, and smile from his father.
Years of photos of my first love line the walls, from little league to his prom along with family shots with celebrities who’ve dined here over the years. I search and search for recent photos and find none, knowing they’re in the restaurant somewhere, and cursing the fact that I’ll be obvious if I search for them. I hadn’t flinched when Tobias told me he was married, but I felt it. And the knowledge now feels like nails dragging across my chest.
Sean has a wife and two children. He married. He moved on as he should’ve.
I am happy for him. And a little jealous.
It’s hypocritical, but I am. I only want to remember the time when he was mine. It’s my God-given right not to know how happy he is.
No matter how unconventional, we had something good until everything went to hell. I was in love with him, until he was ripped away from me.
The dreams that I have that star him are sometimes the hardest. The love I had for him was pure and untainted. I don’t know how to measure love in totality. I only know how to love them individually. But the love that I feel for Tobias is too hard to separate from any other man. My contempt for him exceeds any other as well.
I search one more wall, simply for the capability of acceptance and come up empty. Maybe it’s best I don’t see them.
Old wounds threaten as I wash my hands and meet Melinda back at the table and dine with a lump in my throat.
I’m a creep.
I shouldn’t be here.
But I can’t pull myself away. So, I pick at my food, I listen to Melinda talk, and when we check out at the r
egister, that lump turns into a boulder. Over the cashier’s shoulder is a picture of a little boy with hazel eyes, like those of his father. He’s beautiful in a way that has me staring long after is appropriate. Once we’ve paid, I break from Melinda’s hug on the street, promising to keep in touch just in time to catch the first tear with my scarf.
When I reach my car, I see Ryan standing next to it, his arms crossed, his ocean eyes softening as I walk up to him. I know my mascara is lining my face, and I don’t bother to hide the new tears that shimmer in my eyes. He approaches me and slowly lifts my scarf to help wipe the smudges from my face.
“You know one of the things I love most about you is that you have no idea just how beautiful you are.”
I scan his handsome face with regret. I know that if I hadn’t have moved to Triple Falls when I was nineteen, Ryan would have probably been my first real love. Maybe Collin would have been my second, and I wouldn’t be so absolutely fucked.
“I fell in love one too many times before I got to you.”
He pulls me to him and wraps his arms around me. “He agreed to the terms, we sign tomorrow,” he whispers hoarsely. “I’m here as long as you need me, but when we conclude our business here…please consider this my notice of resignation.”
The next morning, after signing the papers with Ryan and setting up my temporary office, I drive back to the cemetery. I wasn’t here for the funeral, and that regret eats at me daily. The grey cloudy sky holds as I lay my jacket down and kneel before his headstone, setting my cell phone down after hitting play on Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here.”
“Dominic, do you have any idea how hard it is for a twenty-six-year-old white woman in a power suit to get weed in this town? The discrimination is real, my love.” I pull one of the joints I rolled from my pocket before adjusting myself on my jacket. “And you thought I was guilty of judging by appearance. People practically ran from me.” I let out a laugh. “And then I remembered you mentioning Wayne from the deli. Nice guy. Still works there.” I fire it up and take a long pull as the music lulls me into a more peaceful state.
For endless minutes I recall the rainy days we spent in his bed reading, the flash of teeth he gave me when he knew no one was looking. The soul he revealed to me in bits and pieces capable of something more. The longer I dwell where he rests, the more I become convinced he knew his time on earth would be short.
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