Page 94 of Doughn't Let Me Go

She wanted more adventure, more experiences.

I wanted stability and security because I’d never had it before.

We were bound to fail, and she’d told me before that she’d leave me eventually. I just never thought she’d leave Kyrie too.

But she did. She didn’t fight for her during the divorce, didn’t fight me for more money. She just took what I offered and left.

She left me. Left her daughter. Left a hole in our lives.

She was just gone.

You’d think, given my history of my father walking out and my mother being an absentee parent, I’d be used to being left.

But I wasn’t. It gutted me. Made me so fucking angry.

And when I got tired of being angry, I channeled all that into my company and built an empire in the last two years.

Now here I am, richer than I ever dreamed with a daughter I love more than life itself.

I’m happy. I’m fulfilled.

So why did Kyrie’s words wrap themselves around my heart?

Because you have someone to kiss, you just choose not to.

She’s my employee. We can’t go there.

Can we?

The door swings open and Dory’s face fills the opening.

“Porter?”

“Did you mean what you said earlier?”

Her brows pinch together at my sudden question that’s completely lacking context.

“When you said you wanted to forget last night. When you said you didn’t want to remember asking me to kiss you.”

Her mouth opens, then closes. “I…”

“Be honest, Dory. With me. With yourself.”

“No.” She closes her eyes, like maybe if she can’t see me, I can’t see her, and we can pretend she didn’t say anything. “No, I didn’t mean it.”

“Good.”

I turn, trying to convince myself to leave, but I don’t. I can’t get myself to move.

Which is funny because my feet definitely had plans of their own when they brought me here.

“Is that what you came here for, Porter?”

I look back at her. “Yes.”

After hours of lying in bed tossing and turning and not being able to get Kyrie’s words or Dory’s lips out of my head, I had to know if she really wanted to pretend last night was nothing.

I got my answer. I should leave.