Page 102 of When Hearts Ignite

“I don’t care, Steven. I don’t care what she says. You and I are all that matters.”

He swallows, the flush in his face receding at my words, and he leans down and captures my lips with his.

He murmurs, “Fuck the world. We’re living for ourselves.”

I ignore the swirling in my stomach and bury myself in his embrace.

The office is silent as I stare into Father’s crestfallen face on the monitor. My chest is heavy, and I feel like the tie is a noose around my neck, preventing me from breathing.

“Voss got Townsend and a few other shareholders. Townsend called me this morning and told me he’s not selling to us but will yield his shares to Voss tomorrow. It makes no sense.” I watch my father’s face crumble in front of me, and it’s almost like I’ve been hit in the face by a two by four.

I failed.

I’m the King of fucking Wall Street, and I couldn’t even protect my father’s legacy.

He was right all along. I don’t deserve his love and hugs.

I don’t deserve to be a Kingsley.

Father shudders, and for the second time in my life, I see moisture welling in his eyes. He looks toward the ceiling, trying to stanch the emotions from bleeding through, a tough Kingsley until the very end and a javelin spears my chest.

I feel sick with regret and want to cast up the breakfast I had this morning in the office with Grace. I should’ve stepped in sooner. I shouldn’t have waited until the last minute to help him.

I should’ve done so much more.

Perhaps if I took Voss off the board when he first started showing interest in TransAmerica or quit Pietra and gone back home to work for Father and spend the time developing connections with the Board of Directors to promote me as CEO, things would’ve turned out differently.

Sweat beads the back of my neck, my hands shake on my lap. I’m a failure—

“It’s over, isn’t it? All these years. My entire life put into the company and he gets to come in and take it all away.” Father seems to have aged years before my eyes. His normally tall, proud frame has shrunken into his seat, his eyes vacant and filled with loss and pain.

It reminds me of that night when he cried in the storm, when he gave the hug to the little girl and said goodbye to the woman he clearly loved with his entire heart such that there wasn’t room for the rest of us.

“I need to go, son.”

I have no words, no reassurances as he disconnects the call.

A quiet knock interrupts my thoughts, and the office door slowly opens. The scent of jasmine hits my nose and a burning sensation appears behind my eyes. Letting out a shuddering breath, I bury my face in my hands, my shoulders trembling, aching, a shameful heat filling my chest.

“I failed him, Grace. I’m unworthy. He was right all those years ago,” I choke out, my breathing coming out in pants. I feel lightheaded, dizzy, sick with shame and sadness.

“Oh, Steven,” Grace murmurs as she walks to my side and crawls onto my lap, lending me her warmth and her touch as reassurance. She twines her arms around my back, her hands smoothing down the bunched muscles as she presses kisses on my cheeks, which I belatedly realize have grown damp.

Her touch unmoors me. And those dreadful emotions come tumbling out of their own accord and I’m helpless to stop them.

I guess you can’t only keep the good ones.

Life is full of different flavors. You need to taste the bitter to enjoy the sweet, experience sadness to enjoy happiness.

Grace’s wise words curl around my tattered heart as she whispers endearments into my ear.

“You’ve tried your best. He knows that, Steven,” she says gently.

I look up, my blurry vision finding her violet eyes glazed with moisture as well, as if she couldn’t bear to see me in my current state.

Her thumbs gently swipe my cheek as she says, “You’re enough, Steven. You’re loved.” She repeats these affirmations, and I tremble, my hands clutching her waist, needing her presence to keep my sanity, to keep the noose around my neck from choking me alive.

“I love you,” she chants, her beautiful lips parting as she leans closer to me.

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