Page 114 of The Broker

I found that . . . infuriating.

How dare he be calm when everything was falling apart? How dare he give up at the first sign of trouble, and not fight for what we had? The Noah I loved wasn’t afraid, but I didn’t recognize this man in front of me.

He wanted to run.

“I’m not mad,” he said, “but, Charlotte, you can’t wait for me.” He leveled a gaze that made my heart stop. “Doing that would be a waste of time.”

It was the final crack in the ground beneath us, forcing the earth apart so much, I could no longer see a way back to him. Tears streamed down my cheeks as my heart cleaved in two, and then shattered into a million pieces.

I wiped my face, angry I’d let him see the tears he didn’t deserve. The ones I’d foolishly told him months ago I wouldn’t have time for. He stared at me now like he’d evaluated our relationship with his cold shell of a stockbroker’s heart and decided it was time to cut and run.

To mitigate our losses.

“This doesn’t change anything,” a voice said, and in my pain, it took a long moment to realize it was my father speaking. “Your employment here is over, and I don’t want to see you again. You understand?”

Perhaps if my eyes hadn’t been so blurry with tears, I would have seen in perfect detail just how shell-shocked Noah looked. He nodded, shuffled forward, and when he reached the doorway, he hesitated.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

It was unclear who this apology was for. My father? Me?

My voice broke as I issued the order. “Just go.”

He did as asked. He left me and the heart he’d broken completely, walking away like this was nothing more than a deal that had gone sour.

THIRTY

Noah

I stood in the emptiness of my kitchen, my hands resting on the island countertop, and wondered how the hell I’d gotten here. I didn’t remember driving home, but my Mercedes was parked in the garage.

“What the fuck did you just do?” I asked myself.

I didn’t have an answer, because my head was a total fucking mess.

I’d made mistakes before. Once, I’d misunderstood the terms of a deal and lost my client six figures on a single trade. My manager on the desk had helped me cover the loss, I’d worked hard to bounce back, and thankfully I’d been able to keep my job. I’d had terrible anxiety through that whole ordeal.

But it didn’t compare to what I was experiencing now.

My stomach was queasy, my heart raced, and I couldn’t focus on anything. Was this what a panic attack felt like? I sank to the floor, sitting with my back against one of the cabinets, and didn’t care how weird it was.

At least the tile was clean. Charlotte had mopped it only a few days ago.

“Fuck.” I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my head in my hands.

I had the terrible suspicion the panic I felt right now wasn’t over losing my job—it was all about her. And fuck if that didn’t make me feel worse.

Her shattered expression haunted me.

I could claim I hadn’t realized she’d fallen for me, but it was a goddamn lie. I ignored every sign. Told myself repeatedly her feelings were strong, but they hadn’t grown enough to turn into love—because I needed that to be true.

If she fell in love, I’d have to end things, and I didn’t fucking want to do that.

So, I selfishly pretended it hadn’t happened until she came right out and said it, and I couldn’t avoid it anymore. It had killed me to do it, even if breaking things off with her was for the best. Her relationship with her folks was tenuous and dating me made it worse.

I couldn’t be the reason they cut her off.

Ending things with her was the noble thing to do.

---