Page 101 of Tender Offer
Kojo drops his chin onto the top of my head and sighs. “Regardless of what happens, you’ll be okay. You haven’t said anything since Tammi and I came to New York. I love having you here with me, Regine, but don’t keep this in. Always set your truth free. No one expects you to have it together. This situation is messy.”
“Very.” I blow out a breath.
“Damn near Tubi level.” He kisses the top of my head. “But you’ll be okay.”
“I’ll be okay,” I repeat.
He squeezes me tighter. “Do you feel better?”
I nod. “Thank you for being there for me.”
“Always,” Kojo says. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Can’t have you snotting like Viola Davis inFences. You’ll scare the models.”
“Shut up!” A laugh sneaks out.
“Ah, look at that.” He points at my smile. “The first one in weeks. Let me go grab the lunch menus.”
The chords to The Spinners’ “I’ll Be Around” fill the tiny studio space. Light from the windows pierces through tiny particles speckling across exposed brick and found tables. I glance at my phone.
Always set your truth free.
I miss you too.
Chapter 50
Preston
“I’m sorry. She’s not in at the moment. Would you like to add a message to the six others you left?”
William pats my shoulder. “That won’t be necessary, thank you. Come on.” He pivots me to face the doors. “Let’s go. You tried.”
I cut my eyes over my shoulder at the front desk attendant. The least he could do is deliver my messages. And maybe polish his balding head.
The bins lining the pavement smell like stale beer and chips from a nearby bar. New York gets muggy in the summer, and the first day of the season is no exception.
“Any luck?” Dayo lowers his head at my pointed stare.
“Pres. It’s time to go—at least for now,” William says from behind me. He lets out a dejected sigh at my headshake. “Okay.”
Dayo opens the back of our town car for William and I to toss in our suit coats. He closes the door, and I begin my nightly walk around Madison’s neighborhood with a concerned little brother and a bodyguard in tow.
We’ve been in the city for two days after stops in Atlanta and Miami. All it took was a response to my text, and I was on the first plane out to Madison. I’m following her around, forsaking business obligations for the chance to talk to her in person. To prove I won’t stop fighting for us.
On the outside, I manage the appearance of keeping it together. On the inside, I’m a fucking wreck. I can barely sleep without her next to me. I even moved to my other home in Knightsbridge after she left. Nothing is the same without her.
I tried to hold on as long as I could.
Please don’t be mad at me.
I recite the words from the note she left on the kitchen counter next to her key. It’s become my chant, a reminder of the void in my life and my heart out of reach.
The last time I saw Madison was when I bumped into her after KD’s appointment a month ago. I felt the baby kick for the first time on the sidewalk, which caught me by surprise. I didn’t spot Madison, who was only feet away from us, and I won’t forget the look on her face when I did.
Shame tightened my lungs at the tears she forced away until the pain became unbearable. Our conversations up until then were minimal—not from a lack of trying. Neither of us knew how to navigate my new normal. We were still dealing with whiplash from the news.
I struggled to look Madison in the eye knowing it’s my fault, never mind make love to her. I never wanted to tie myself to KD like this, but wanting and having aren’t the same. I still struggle with that weekend. The condom broke, but KD is on birth control.
Still, no matter how we got here, I vow to be a better father than the one I had.
