Page 66 of The CEO's Sweetheart Deal
“They’ve been voted off the board,” he says.
“Sydney told me.”
“I got everyone back on payroll as soon as possible,” he continues. “It doesn’t undo what happened. But I did everything I could to make it right.”
I let that sink in. I knew all of this already, of course. Sydney has kept me up to date. Hearing it from him again softens me a little, though. If he came all the way over here to find me and tell me this, maybe he is being genuine.
“I believe you,” I say quietly.
A long pause.
I clear my throat, afraid of bursting into tears and not being able to imagine anything worse happening right now. “But it doesn’t change that I… I just… I can’t trust you, Oscar.”
The words feel like glass on my tongue. They cut on the way out, but I can’t lie to him. It’s the truth, and it feels good to let it out. Even though I wish reality was something different.
“I know,” he says again, and this time his voice cracks. “I hate that. More than anything. Our time in San Diego…” his voice lowers. “That was real to me, Alice. Every second of it. That was the happiest I’ve ever been. And I think — no, Iknow— you felt it too.”
I don’t respond. Because he’s right. And it hurts like hell to admit it.
“I wasn’t pretending,” he says. “Ever. Not with you.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to hold myself together.
“I don’t know if this means anything,” he says, “but I think I”m doing a pretty good job over at Rooted Pantry, keeping your vision going.”
“Oh, yeah?” I lift an eyebrow, surprising myself with my playfulness.
“Yes. My only regret is that we’re not doing this together.”
I look at him again, really look. The dark circles under his eyes. The tension in his shoulders. The regret carved deep into the corners of his mouth. And despite everything — despite the betrayal, the mess, the silence — I still feel that impossible, infuriating pull to him. It’s that ache in my chest I’ve never been able to silence.
“There’s something real between us,” he says, barely above a whisper. “There always has been. You know that.”
I look away, heart hammering. “It’s not enough.”
“Maybe not,” he says. “But I still want to try. With you.”
He reaches into his coat pocket, pulls out a business card and a pen, and writes something on the back.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me. Or trust me. Just… think about it.”
He holds the card out. I hesitate for a moment before taking it, making sure our fingers don’t touch.
“What is this?” I ask, not recognizing the address.
“Meet me there at six tonight. Please.”
I bite my bottom lip, undecided. If I don’t go, I’ll always wonder what could have been, but if I do go and get my heart stomped on again, I’m not sure I’ll be able to recover this time.
And if things do go well and I return to Rooted Pantry, then what? That repairs the professional side, but it doesn’t fix everything else that’s happened between the two of us, which is what really matters.
And I don’t think I can work alongside Oscar again. Not with the extra weight that’s been added to our shared history. Not while I still curse his name but dream of his touch.
Oscar rises slowly, like he’s not sure his legs will carry him. “I’ll be there,” he says. “I hope you will be too.”
He walks away, slipping back around the fountain and down a side trail, disappearing from view.
I stare at the card in my hand, my fingers trembling. I could tear it in half. Toss it in the fountain. Forget the way he said my name like it meant something.
