Page 94 of The Wrong Boss

She was someone who’d been alone and afraid for a long, long time. Just like I’d been alone and afraid. She’d pulled herself together and forged onward—just like me. She was someone who craved connection but found it rarely—until we found each other.

I’d thought she kept her secret as a purposeful betrayal. I thought she’d been making a fool out of me. But she wasn’t. She was simply trying to find her footing in a world that tossed her around at every turn.

Maybe there was hope for us. She sat across from me, looking beautiful and vulnerable and complicated and perfect, and all the love I’d buried came rushing back to the forefront. I wanted her as badly as I had the first day. She drew me in, and I was sick of fighting it. I opened my mouth, but Carrie beat me to it.

She gave me a sad smile and said, “At least from now on we can be good coparents. Evie deserves a father, and the last thing I want to do is mess up your relationship with her by insertingmy own feelings into the mix. I’m just thankful you were willing to hear me out. I’m glad we can finally move on.”

My pulse turned sluggish. I struggled to keep my expression steady while her words lashed at my fragile heart. She was glad we could move on? Just like that? The end?

“You folks ready to order?” the waitress asked, cheery and bright.

“Sure,” Carrie said, blinking her gaze away from me to smile at the young woman. “I was thinking I’d go for the roast chicken. Cole?”

I stared at the menu, and all the letters blurred. “I’ll have the same,” I said, flipping the leather-bound menu closed before handing it to the waitress.

Carrie watched her walk away, then faced me once more. “So. Should we talk about a visitation schedule? What were you thinking would be reasonable? I have to tell you from the jump, I’m not willing to give up primary legal and physical custody.”

Just like that, the vulnerability was gone. We were moving on.

FORTY

CARRIE

Puttingon a brave face took a lot of work. Every time I looked across the table, a painful punch hit me in the chest.

But this was my life; I had to face the consequences. It was time for me to stop indulging my fears and become a better woman.

By the time the dinner was over, I was exhausted. The food and wine had been delicious, and Cole and I had been perfectly civil to each other—but my feet still dragged as we walked out and headed to his car. I inhaled a deep breath of cool night air, glancing up at the overcast sky between the buildings, and gave myself a mental pat on the back.

It hurt, but I could do this. It was for Evie—and for Cole. They deserved to be in each other’s lives, and I wouldn’t let my own cowardice stand in the way.

I slid into Cole’s car and sank into the leather seat, closing my eyes to inhale the scent of him one more time.

The engine rumbled to life, and I turned my head to glance at him. His profile was cast in shadow, but I could still see the strong line of his nose, the sharp blade of his jaw. He’d run his hand through his hair a thousand times over the course of our difficult conversation, and the strands were tousled and falling onto his forehead in perfect disarray.

It would kill me to eventually see him date someone else. Now that I’d found him again and lost him, I doubted I’d ever truly get over him. The weight of that truth sat heavy on my shoulders, and I tore my gaze away from him.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said as we slid into traffic.

“That’s all right. I’m glad we could get along.”

“I’ll get my team to formalize what we agreed on.”

I nodded. “Great. I’ll let Carla know to be on the lookout.”

Silence settled over us. We were civil, but there was a gaping chasm between us. It hurt my heart that it would always be there, that I’d never again have the right to see behind his walls.

Actions, meet consequences. Wallowing wouldn’t help me. I forced myself to sit up a bit straighter and filled my lungs with a deep breath. The new me took accountability; I was proud of myself for doing it tonight.

We drove in silence and pulled up outside the little townhouse I called home. A light was on downstairs, but Evie’s window was dark. I unclipped my seatbelt. “Well,” I said, “I’ll be in touch.”

“Carrie—”

I paused, one hand on the door handle, and looked back at him.

His brows were drawn and his lips parted. “Is this what you want? Truly?”

My brain was sluggish after such a difficult dinner; I didn’t quite understand what he was trying to say. For some reason, my heart began to race. “I want Evie to have a relationship with you,” I answered slowly. “And for you to do right by her, which is why I want to take things slow in terms of visitation and overnights. I thought you understood that. The last thing I want is for her to end up hurt.”

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