Page 85 of Hold You Close
I grab a few snack packs of carrots and ranch dressing and stick them into the bags. “It’s complicated, okay? But I had to make a tough decision.”
She nods slowly and puts the sandwiches she’s made into small Ziploc bags. “Did someone have to get hurt?”
“Yes.” I brace myself on the counter and exhale. “But it had to happen. There was no other way.”
“Uncle Ian, I—”
“Go back to bed, Morgan.” I straighten up and stand tall above her. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“But I—”
“Go!” I roar, hating myself even more for being rough on her. This wasn’t her fault. But I couldn’t let myself soften, or I’d be lost.
My niece bites her lip, and for a moment, I think she’s going to burst into tears and run away. But she doesn’t—incredibly, she rushes toward me and throws her arms around my waist, pressing her cheek to my chest. It’s exactly the kind of selfless, affectionate thing her mother would have done.
At first I’m so stunned, I just stand there like a dummy. A lump forms in my throat. My heart aches. My eyes burn. But she holds on tight, and after a moment, I wrap my arms around her and hug back. Somehow this twelve-year-old knows me better than I know myself.
That’s why I’m grateful she doesn’t ask any more questions before she goes up to bed.
When she’s gone, I finish making the lunches, stick the bags in the fridge, and turn off the lights. When I crawl beneath the sheets, I reach over to the other side of the bed, even though I know it’s empty. Hour after hour passes and I can’t sleep, my mind full of memories, my heart full of sadness. I keep telling myself I did the right thing, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
I fucking miss her already. I always will.
Twenty
London
I stumble home with hot tears streaming down my face and huge, gasping sobs wracking my chest. Somehow I manage to get up the stairs to my bedroom, even though I’m crying so hard I can barely see, and I throw myself across my bed and weep until my eyes run dry.
Why does this have to hurt so much? Why was I stupid enough to open my heart to him again? Why didn’t I learn the first time that Ian Chase will never love me the way I love him?
It feels like hours that I lie there choking on my regret. Eventually, I haul myself off the bed, get undressed, and throw on a ratty old T-shirt. I skipped dinner tonight, but I’m not hungry. I have an open bottle of wine in the fridge, but I don’t want it. I should wash my face and brush my teeth and take my pill, but I can’t find the energy. Instead, I crawl beneath the covers, curl into a ball, and squeeze my eyes shut.
I don’t want to think about him anymore. I want to be strong. I want to push through this. I want to be the kind of woman I’ve always admired, the kind that learns from her mistakes, stays focused on her goals, and doesn’t let anyone get to her.
“Damn you, Ian,” I whisper into the dark. “You made me need you, and I never wanted to need anyone ever again. You made me break a promise to myself that I’d never trust someone like you. You made me forget what it was like to have a broken heart.”
I make my decision—I’m going to take the job. I’m going to show Ian that he doesn’t have the power to hurt me anymore. I’m going to move to Atlantic City and make a new life for myself. I’ll miss the kids terribly, but it’s what I have to do. Sabrina would understand.
If I stayed here, where I’d have to look at his house every day and remember how close I came to having it all, I’d fall apart.
I have to go. He’s left me no choice.
The next morning,I inform Casey that I’ve decided to accept the offer.
He smiles confidently. “Of course you accepted it. Only a fool would turn down an opportunity like this, and I know you’re no fool.”
Don’t be too sure, I think to myself. “When should I plan to head out there?”
“As soon as possible. Have your assistant book a flight for tomorrow if she can. Take today to tie up loose ends here and get the paperwork taken care of.”
“I’m traveling first class,” I state flatly, daring him with an icy stare to deny me.
He nods. “Whatever you want.”
What I want is to stay here and raise a family with Ian. If I can’t have that, I can at least demand to be treated with the respect I deserve at work. It’s all I have now.
I spend the rest of the day packing up my office, on the phone to Atlantic City getting details about the new position, and writing emails introducing myself to my new team. The contract is faxed over that afternoon, and I notice they’ve even included the hefty bonus I asked for, which I figured they’d reject. I would also get corporate housing in a luxury condo until I could find something more permanent, a company car, and an expense account that made my eyes pop.
