Page 82 of Bossing My Holiday
“Our son is involved in a relationship with two people. How are we supposed to explain that?”
“By supporting them.” Grand-mère all but rolls her eyes. “If we approve and normalize it within our family, who can argue, though there will always be people who try. I loved your père with all my heart. I had fifty wonderful years with him. Years I wouldn’t trade for anything. You have Francine. What is her love to you? Love is worth more than money, more than empires. But there are ways to have both.”
My father starts to pace. “They lied to us. Waverly was never his girlfriend.”
“What does that matter now anyway if they love each other?” my mother argues, touching my father’s arm, stopping him. “Do you want your son in another loveless marriage out of obligation?”
“He already told us Waverly won’t move here, and if Braxton is involved… This is messy. How will it look? How will we explain it?”
“You won’t have to,” I say, stepping forward and glancing back at Waverly and Braxton. “I will.” My heart picks up speed, and my hands tingle as I squeeze Waverly’s hand and hold it tightly in mine. “If Waverly wants both of us and is willing to weather that storm, then I’ll weather it with her.”
“So will I,” Braxton asserts.
“Wait.” Waverly releases my hand so she can touch my jaw. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. You’ll be here, and we’ll be there.”
“I can’t do it. I can’t go the rest of my life without you. If you thought I was insufferable before.” My lips bounce. “I want this week to be every week. I tried to do the right thing. I tried to be the good, dutiful Ouest. But my heart won’t comply. It’s the three of us as one, even if Brax and I are simply sharing you.”
“Tristan, what are you saying?” my father asks, and I turn back to him.
“I can’t move back here, Dad. Not permanently. If you want me to run Ouest Hotels, it has to be a hybrid between here and Boston. That’s my best offer to you. I will give it my all as I do with everything, but I’ve been miserable and lonely for two years, and it’s because Waverly wasn’t mine.”
He stares me down, absorbing this.
“Yes, you’ll have to come to Paris a lot more frequently than you do now,” Grand-mère agrees. “But I don’t see that as a downside. I’m old. It’s required that you visit the elderly.”
I snicker, but the thought of that is filling me with a delicious sort of hope.
“This is your decision then?” my father asks.
I nod. “It is.”
“Wow.” My mother sighs. “Then you do it. I won’t have you here and miserable, and I’ll love and support you and your decisions no matter what. Marry her, Tristan. Make babies with her. But don’t ever sacrifice your heart. Not again.”
My father nods. “We were wrong to make you do so the first time. I saw the life drain from your eyes with Dianna, and it’s been that way since. Until you brought Waverly home. And if your happiness is connected to Braxton as part of this, then okay. We’ll learn to understand and support that.”
I can’t help but be winded as I exchange glances with Waverly and Braxton, both as shocked as I am. “Not everyone will agree.”
“No,” he acknowledges. “People love to impose judgments, especially with something that’s different or they don’t understand.”
“But love is love, and it’s universal,” my mother picks up. “It’s certainly not worth sacrificing at the altar of someone else’s feet.”
“And frankly, whatever happens in your home is no one else’s fucking business.
A laugh bursts from me, and I take my grandmother in myarms and kiss her cheeks. “Merci. Je t’aime.” I do the same with both of my parents, hugging and kissing them. I was expecting a fight. I was expecting none of them to understand. But I was willing to go after it anyway. It was like the moment we crossed the threshold of my parents’ flat, I felt the clang of a jail cell, and I couldn’t take it.
My days are meant to be with them. Not here alone.
“Je t’aime aussi, mon fils.” My dad hugs me fiercely. “Vis ta vie dans la liberté et l'amour.”
They leave us here, and I turn back to Braxton and Waverly, my heart pounding. “Holy shit. That all just happened. Are you willing to be public with this?” I ask. “Because I am. It’ll mean long hours. It’ll mean lots of traveling back and forth to Paris, especially at first. It’ll mean public scrutiny and likely loss of investors and clients. But you’re both worth the risk, and I don’t want this life if I can’t have you with me.”
Brax laughs. “You know me. I’ve been in this from the start. I don’t think it’ll impact OuestHicks, as antibiotics are antibiotics. As for Ouest Hotels, well, you’re French. Didn’t you invent the term?”
My lips twitch. “Oui. We did.”
He shrugs.
“I’m fine,” Waverly says. “If it means I have both of you, I’ll weather any storm.”
