Page 4 of Tender Offer
“That you and your ex are no longer estranged?” I still the sarcasm tempting my tone when a frown knits her brows.
The shock of my discovery threatens to siphon the blood from Justice’s face. She lets out a breath at the smile dusting my mouth. She feels guilty, but she shouldn’t.
I’m neither upset nor surprised that she’s reconciling with her ex, who is also here for the week. On paper, they’re still married—once headed for divorce until life rerouted their paths to collide after seven months of no contact.
How the hell do you compete with fate? The simple answer is you don’t.
I’ll admit Justice captivated me, but it’s clear she’s still hung up on her husband. She admitted as much and wouldn’t be tripping over her words right now otherwise.
“Were you spying on me?” Her cheeks flush on a gulp. She’s a doe caught in headlights, questioning if I’m someone who follows women for sport.
I smirk. “Relax, Justice. I’m not a stalker.” I like to watch, just not the way she thinks.
Did I review security footage of her at yesterday’s salsa lesson, cozied up to her ex once she’d let her guard down? I did. I own the damn resort. An emergency business meeting arose, which took me away from the hotel. I peeked at the video of her on the dance floor to make sure she was okay after I broke our date.
It’s safe to say she was.
My departure created the space for Terrence to go after her. Can’t say I blame him. She’s unlike many of the women Iencounter. Her presence draws you in. I can be myself without expectations, which is why I’m clinging to whatever time we have left together. It feels good not to carry the Donnelley Brand for once.
We owe each other nothing. Two days and a kiss are no match for her fifteen years with her former ex. It’s the same amount of time since I’ve seen Heather.
Heather.
I haven’t uttered that name since she walked out of my life. Remembering is a fucking knife to my gut.
My phone buzzes again, a reminder that the space I’ve carved out for myself will expire sooner than expected. I assure Justice that I’m not a serial killer and sit through the story of how she and Terrence reconciled. I never considered myself a masochist, but I have no explanation for why I’m still here, mingling with rejection, when I could be elsewhere. Preferably fucking. I haven’t had sex on this holiday, and I am not crossing the ocean with blue balls.
“When you find your soulmate, it’s hard to let go,” she says. An apology plays across the faint smile she forces through a frown.
A sharp pain lodges itself at the fragmented memories pressing against my ribs. Cinnamon brown hair and heart-shaped lips transport me back to the only relationship strong enough to tilt life on its side. To a time when I stood in the sun, trying to catch flecks of gray glinting in the hazel eyes that still haunt me.
I never meant to hurt you.
Fifteen years, and I can still see Heather clear as day.
Regret and yearning are present at the table, a reminder of how exposed I am outside of the Donnelley Brand and its CEO demands. I’ve kept myself busy while on holiday so my mind wouldn’t wander back to when I was just me. Beyond my status, when ordinary was extraordinary.
Justice doesn’t realize that the mirror she’s holding up forces me to contend with scars still tethered to the edges of my mind. No matter how hard I try to forget, I can’t let go.
“Honestly, I envy your situation,” I say to Justice, who’s staring at me like I have two heads.
“I thought you said you don’t do long-term relationships?”
I don’t do feelings anymore, either, but I’m still at this dinner, which would typically never touch the shadow of my calendar. They’re uncorked—the feelings—forcing me to assess the man I am today and the one decision I made that cost me everything.
“I’m not opposed to anything long-term,” I admit, “but part of the reason I’m hesitant is I was once in love with someone who got away.”
In my forty-one years, no one has compared to Heather—not even Justice. I’ve fucked my way across continents to try and fill the empty space she created once she left. I was twenty-six and never realized what I had until she walked out of my life.
“I was so young, just coming into the business. I didn’t know what I had,” I say, the scent of late-night eclairs on the balcony wafting in the distance. “I would marry her today if I ever found her.”
The arrogant little shit I was had an inflated ego. I was impenetrable. No one could shake me until a woman in a French museum with a masterpiece of curves turned my world upside down.
Diving headfirst into pussy and the career my father molded for me have yet to make whole what’s missing. I should’ve fought harder to keep her instead of pushing her away. Every resource is now at my fingertips, but I let too much time pass. Heather isn’t her actual name, but what we shared was real.
Pressure squeezes the hard granite formed over my heart. Tonight is the first time I’ve told anyone what I’ve held in silence.
Finché c’è vita c’è speranza. As long as there is life, there is hope.
