Page 115 of The Billionaire's Bride
"Remember what you said earlier, Saint, about not talking about the women?" I remind them.
"This is different." Saint glares at me, "We’re talking aboutyou,and your completely asinine attitude in refusing to accept what’s right for you."
"And you guys know that, how?"
"Experience." Sinner blows out a breath, "Like we’ve said, been here, done that. And we’re not allowing you to fuck up your life... No more than it is right now."
"Not sure you guys get a say in that," I mutter
"Might be a little too late for that, ol’ chap." Arpad chortles.
"What do you—?" The intercom app on my phone buzzes. I’d switched off the connections in the rooms so it wouldn’t disturb Ava. “Hold on.”
I switch out of the call and place the phone to my ear, "Yes?"
"A Mr. Chase to see you, sir."
"Chase." I frown.
"Should I—?"
"Send him up." I switch back into the call to find the rest of them waiting.
"Well," Damian asks, "is it him?"
"Who?"
"Cut the crap. You two finally going to bury your differences, or what?" Saint growls.
"You guys behind this?" I mutter.
The guys stay silent. I take in their faces and blow out a breath. "The fuck, you think you’re doing?" I growl. "What the fuck is wrong with you? If you think this is going to help, you are so wrong."
"Hold on," Sinner’s glare intensifies, "we were only trying to—"
I switch out of the call and raise my phone, intent on throwing it, then stop. Fuck. That would only wake up Ava, and that’s the last thing I want." I place the phone on the table, then get up and head out of the study. Making sure Ava’s door is firmly shut, I head for the living room, just as the elevator dings. It opens and Edward steps out.
41
Edward
When the guys had called me earlier, I had been pissed. But then they’d reminded me, again, how I’d intervened when each of them had been at a critical juncture in their lives. What I didn’t tell them was that I had been a different person then. Someone who had literally divorced myself from what was going on inside of me. Someone who was focused on others, on the betterment of my flock. In their happiness lay mine. Which, honestly, wasn’t a bad space to be in. Only, it had meant that I had locked away every damn feeling of my own. I had turned away from myself, had turned my back on my emotions, on the guilt and recriminations I had carried inside for so long. I hadn’t been able to save him… Hadn’t been able to save myself.
Until she had come along. A bright light at the end of a period of soul-searching darkness. Ava had been the catalyst, and I had been ready to break my vows. It was as simple as that. And I had loved her, truly… And it was that part of me which had known that she would be happier with Baron.
The guys had asked me to bury my differences with Baron. The truth is, there’s nothing to forgive. So why hadn’t I joined their conference calls? Why hadn’t I been able to face Baron before this? Honestly, I don’t have an answer to that. Now, as I step out of the elevator and take in the unsmiling countenance of the man who glares at me, I know he’s hurting. As much as me.
I walk toward him, and he doesn’t move. I pause in front of him, hold out my hand.
"Friends?" I murmur. "You ready to be friends?"
He glares at my proffered hand then back at my face, "What are you, ten?" He pivots around, heads to the bar, and pours out whiskey in two tumblers.
Well, at least, he hadn’t asked me to leave. Though that’s not Baron’s style. I’m the one more liable to lose my temper nowadays. Breaking free of the discipline of priesthood has, apparently, unleashed an entire range of emotions in me, many of them unused for decades. Is that good or bad? The jury’s out on that.
I stalk over to the bar, pick up the tumbler from the counter. "Ava?" I murmur.
"She’s asleep."
