Page 32 of All That She Needs

"At the company's apartment. The one we used for guests."

"You don't need me to drive you?"

I shook my head. "You take care of the kids. I'll drive myself."

"You know," He sighed. "I really,really, want to say that I told you so." He paused for a while before he added, "But now, looking at you so fucked up, it's probably too mean to say it."

"I deserve it." I mumbled.

"Yeah, you do." He nodded, agreeing too easily. "Sometimes I looked at you and found myself thinking, who even is this man? Because this... this is not the Aiden I knew." There was sadness in his voice that I couldn't bear to hear. Even Roy was disappointed with me. Everybody was disappointed with me. "I've known you for twelve years, and I think I've earned the right to say I know you well enough to see the difference. I used to be proud to say I worked for you, proud to call you my friend. But now?" He paused and drew his eyes awayfrom me like he couldn't bear to look at me for a moment longer. As he walked off, he added, "I'm not sure anymore."

Leaving my house, I took a long drive, circling my office building, trying to clear my head. My thoughts were all over the place, making it hard to focus. I couldn't walk into the office like this—too distracted, too unsettled. I needed time to cool down before facing everything waiting for me inside.

While I drove, I tried to piece together how it all got so out of control with Vanessa. How things spiraled so fast, and I became someone I barely recognized. How far I let it go, how much I lost sight of myself.

I had to forget Vanessa. To really let go. But the more I thought about it, the more every moment with her surfaced in my mind. I tried to convince myself that it was over and that I should move on from her. But no matter how much I tried, she was still there in my head, like a habit I couldn't shake.

I knew I hadn't been fair to Vanessa either. I asked her to be my other woman, knowing I could never truly be hers. She once asked if I came to her because my marriage was unhappy, and I couldn't answer. I was conflicted. Before Vanessa, I had everything with Asha. I was convinced I was the luckiest man alive. My world revolved around Asha, and I never even looked at another woman. I loved her so deeply. She was my soul, the one who breathed life into me for years. But Vanessa... she took my heart in a way I never expected. She came into my life like a raging storm—fast, unpredictable, and impossible to escape. I was caught in her pull, powerless to resist, even though I knew it would tear everything apart.

And now, torn between the two, I could not let go of either. I needed Asha to live, but I needed Vanessa to feel alive.

The reason for my infidelity sounded pathetic, even to me. I was a weak man, and I could admit that. But how could anyone understand I was driven by love? That I never set out to hurt anyone? Yet, in the end, I hurt them both so deeply that they walked away from me.

I needed to get my priorities straight. Vanessa was already gone, and I knew that. But the love I had for her still lingered, and I wasn't sure if it would ever fade. The thought of forgetting her felt like tearing out a part of myself. But I had no choice—I had to let her go, no matter how much it killed me inside.

My family needed me. Asha, the kids—they were what mattered now. I had to focus on them, rebuild what I'd shattered, even if it meant burying every trace of Vanessa. No more distractions, no more lies. I had to face the mess I'd made and try to fix what was left.

Part 17: Asha

I came back to the office feeling anxious and jittery, my nerves on edge. Walking through the lobby and into the elevator, I couldn't help but worry that I might bump into Liam. Luckily, I didn't. He hadn't called or texted me during the two days I'd been absent, even though Dennis had mentioned that Liam kept showing up, looking for me, until Dennis finally had to threaten to call security for unauthorized entry.

The last time I was with Liam, things hadn't ended well. I was mad, and he knew it. The anger still simmered beneath the surface, and with everything else going on in my life, I wondered why I even had room in my head to think about it. I kept thinking about what I would do if I saw him again. I was too tired to keep mad at him, too exhausted to skirt around the subject and pretend I wasn't mad, but still too disappointed to let it go.

Even though I had only been absent for two days, my inbox had exploded with over a hundred emails, and the stack of reports waiting for my review was overwhelming—far too many to tackle in a single day. It felt almost inhuman to expect anyone to get through it all, but I gladly welcomed it. I needed the distractions. I needed it so that I wouldn't be thinking about my lying, cheating husband and my disappointing new friend.

Dennis had been an absolute godsend. He rearranged my calendar so that I wouldn't have any meetings today, which was almost impossible to do. I didn't know how he managed it, but he did it. My calendar for today was unbelievably clear—something I hadn't seen in probably the last ten years.

Other than delivering my coffee and a bar of the Artisan macadamia chocolate he knew I loved so much, Dennis didn't bother me at all. His silence was so unusual that I almost missed his constant yapping over nothing and his persistent reminders about my next meeting and what I needed to prepare. The thought of him ever leaving crossed my mind, and honestly, I didn't know what I would do if Dennis decided to work for another company. I would pity anyone who had to step into his shoes—the bar Dennis had set was almost impossible to reach.

Unfortunately, the peace only lasted until about five p.m., when Dennis buzzed me and frantically shouted through the speaker, "Alert, alert, fucking alert! Two scariest angelic-looking dudes are on their way up. I wanted to stop them, I really did, but I won't. You know how they scared the shit out of me. Tell me quickly if you want to hide, and I will sprint downstairs and lock myself in one of the janitor's closets. Iwill not face them alone. Asha? Asha, you there?"

Oh, shit. I knew who they were.

Before I could even think or react, I heard their muffled voices outside my office. Five seconds later, both my brothers walked in, with backpacks on their shoulders, telling me they come here straight from the airport.

I quickly scanned their faces—pale and green-eyed like mine—searching for any sign of distress. It didn't take long to find it; the tension was palpable in their eyes, even though they moved with an unsettling calm. I could sense the storm brewing inside their heads, just waiting to explode.

"Who told you?" I sighed.

"Kayden," Mason answered, his tone sharp. Max, the quieter one, simply looked at me with his usual impassive expression. But I knew him well enough to see the mix ofemotions swirling inside him. My instinct came from that strong triplet bond we shared. Max was worried. "He called me this morning, asking us to come over. He said you need us."

"Are you okay?" Max asked quietly, his voice softer than usual.

"I'm fine," I groaned, the word almost losing its meaning from how much I hated it. "Let's sit over there and talk." I rose from my seat and gestured toward the seating area on my right, where a couple of sofas and a coffee table offered a more comfortable setting. My brothers followed me, placing their backpacks on the floor next to the sofa as they settled in right across from me.

After I sat down, I noticed Dennis's head poked through the door, his anxiousness on full display. It always left me wondering why he was so unnerved around my brothers.

Sure, they weren't the friendliest guys on earth. In fact, they might be the coldest, most reserved dudes that ever lived. They always seemed to respond with nothing more than grunts or one-word answers when asked questions—except when it came to me, my kids, or my mom. And Aiden, of course. Their reputation wasn't helped by the tattoos that could put Liam and Keith to shame, along with their permanent scowls that clashed with their otherwise angelic faces.

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