Page 87 of Nothing To Lose
She doesn’t say anything. Just stares, wide-eyed, like she thinks blinking might set me off.
I dip my head understandingly and head past her desk. His office door is obvious, considering the large ornate plaque with his name and title.
Talon is sitting behind a massive mahogany desk, facing the floor to ceiling view his corner office provides. He's on the phone when I walk in. He looks up, mildly surprised, and tells the person on the other end to hold.
I toss the envelope onto his desk.
“I don’t want your money,” I say. “I don’t want your help. If Tyler doesn’t want me, he can say it to my face, but I’m not going to let you decide that for him.”
He watches me, unreadable.
“You think I’m not good enough for your son? That’s fair. Most days, I’d agree with you. I grew up with nothing. I had to fight for every scrap I’ve got. And yeah, maybe I don't know how to navigate your world of polished halls and country club handshakes, or thegentlemen’s agreementsmade behind closed doors. But I know how to love someone with everything I have.”
I take a step forward, voice tightening.
“I’ve been breaking my back since I was fifteen to support my family. I worked jobs no one else wanted. I lived in fear I couldn’t give my mom her meds, or keep the heat on in winter. I missed out on being a kid so my sister wouldn’t have to. And I still found a way to dream. To build something. And I’ve done it with my own hands.”
I shake my head.
“Tyler is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He believes in me in a way no one ever has. So if you’re trying to scare me off because you think I’ll crumble under the weight of your judgement? Don’t waste your breath. I’ve carried more than my share, and I’ll carry this too. I’ll carry him, if that’s what he needs.”
I look him dead in the eye. “I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be the kind of man he deserves. I’ll put in the work. I’ll earn it. And if he wants me, I’ll make him happy. That’s all that matters to me.”
I turn to leave.
Behind me, he speaks low into the phone. “You have some kind of audacity to disregard everything I’ve given you. To throw an opportunity like this away. What’s your price?”
I pause, but not to think. Only to take a breath, because I’m suffocating without Tyler.
“There is no price, Mr. Valdin. Everything means nothing if I can’t love him.”
29
TYLER
Flight attendants begin walking the aisles, checking seat belts and helping stragglers stow their bags as I reach to set my phone to airplane mode. Just as I unlock the screen, the phone buzzes, and a message comes through.
Isaac: I will wait for you for as long as it takes. I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.
My heart slams against my ribs. I stare at the screen, breath caught in my throat, and I know I do this. I can't.I can't.
I stand so fast the lady next to me shrieks.
“Wait! Please, don’t close the doors!”
A flight attendant steps forward, alarmed. “Sir?”
“I'm sorry. I need to go. I can't do this. I need to get off the plane. Please. Now.”
People are staring, some annoyed, some curious, but I don’t care. My hands are shaking as I grab my carry-on and stumble down the aisle. People are murmuring to each other, a constant low hum of judgement and curiosity. I ignore it.
The cabin feels too small, like the air is closing in around me. Each step toward the front feels like breaking through glass. I murmur frantic apologies as I pass, but they don't register, not even to me. A man across the aisle glances up from his tablet with thinly veiled judgment. Another in the row ahead mutters something about ‘rich kids having meltdowns.’ A flight attendant near the galley steps aside and lifts her walkie-talkie, eyes tracking me like I might be unstable. I think I knock someone’s bag down, but I don’t look back. All I can see is the door ahead.
The moment I'm through the jet bridge and back into the terminal, it’s like I can finally breathe again. My chest heaves like I’ve been holding my breath for days.
Everything around me is too bright. Too loud. The buzz of gate announcements and rolling luggage fades to a dull hum in the back of my skull. All I can think about is him.
I don’t stop walking until I’m out of the gate area, stumbling into a row of empty chairs. I fumble my phone back out and call my father.
