Page 30 of Best In Class
“He still pushes my buttons,” Lev admits, his voice quieter now as he tiredly slouches into a chair next to me.
“Mine, too,” I say, matching his tone. “I have to keep reminding myself he doesn’t have any power over me anymore. Not like he did backthen.”
BackwhenI was young and scared and stupid enough to let that man poison the good in my life.
Lev doesn’t say anything, but he nods like he hears all of the things I left unsaid.
We drink for a while, and then I get us into his place for dinner.
I cook—it’s my way to relax and focus.
He finds a wine bottle in hiscellar.
I make pasta with fresh tomato sauce and way too much basil, just the way Lev likes it.
The herbs come from the small kitchen garden out back, which his housekeeper, Ms. Lynn, meticulously maintains, which is a good thing because Lev doesn’t have a green thumb. He can kill a cactus.
We eat out on the patio, the air soft and cool in that perfect Savannah spring way. The sky is streaked with blush and gold. There’s a bottle of Tuscan Vermentino between us. It’s crisp and elegant, complementing the fresh sauce well.
Lev tops off our glasses.
“This is an excellent way to spend an evening.”
“Yes, it is.” Lev twirls some pasta onto his fork. “I like that you’re living here.”
“I know. I like it, too.”
“But it’s temporary.” He’s not asking.
“Just until I can convince your sister to let me move in with her.”
He huffs out a short laugh. “You’ve come a long way.”
I know exactly what he means. When I was younger, I probably would’ve wanted Luna to live in my house, in my world, on my terms. Some dumb, macho idea about being the man of the house, the breadwinner, the protector—like that was the pinnacle of masculinity.
But that boy is long gone.
Now, I’m a feminist in the truest sense.
If my partner earns more than I do, then good—more power to her. More power to us. I’m still ambitious as hell,but I also know that if we have kids one day, and Luna wants to run the world, I’ll be happy to be a homemaker. Proud, even.
I’ve evolved, not just in age and career, but as a person.
I like the man I’ve become.
I know my truth. I can sit with my flaws, own my failures, and still acknowledge—without apology—what’s good and strong and steady in me.
“You ever think about walking away from all of it?” I ask after a stretch of silence.
“Every day,” he replies without hesitation.
I wait.
Lev stares into his wine glass for a long moment. “The company. The family. The pressure. Sometimes I just want to hand it all over to some overpriced consultant and disappear into the woods.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because this is how I take care of my mother,” he says with a rueful smile. “And because it’s all we have left. After what Dad did—after how much he lost—it was either let it burn, or try to rebuild it ourselves. Luna stepped in with her trust fund. I stepped up by taking over. AndnowI can’t let go.”
