Page 22 of Unwrapping Spring Break

He’s gone too far, and Jax didn’t do a thing to stand up for me. Or himself, for that matter. Dad had all but called me a slut. Jax didn’t say a word! Not that I need a guy to come to my rescue, but it would’ve been nice to know he doesn’t think that about me. Instead, all he did was stand up for himself when Dad turned on him.

It’s not until the first drop hits the back of my hand that I realize I’m crying. It also strikes me just how devastated I am. I thought Jax and I had a connection. I thought it was the beginning of something lasting and meaningful. But when push came to shove, he proved to be lacking. Maybe it’s not what I thought it was. Perhaps I saw something that wasn’t there.

Thinking that, though, feels wrong. I know it down to my bones. Jax was happy with me, at least for a moment. So why did he run? Am I not worth the effort? Isn’t being happy worth fighting for? While I don’t have answers, I’m torn up inside. I want to go home. This trip quickly turned into the spring break from hell, and I can’t wait for it to end.

I dig my phone out of my bag to call the airline. “Yes, when’s the last flight for Kansas? . . . Great! Are there any seats available? . . . Yes, I understand. That’s fine . . . No, I’ll take it . . . Lily Summers. I’ll pay by credit card, thank you.”

They have one seat left in first class, for twice the usual price since it’s last minute. I don’t care if my credit card takes a huge hit. I want to leave. Now. After I make the reservation, I call down to the front desk to have a taxi waiting for me and then I finish packing. Calling Jax, Mother, or Dad is not on my list of priorities.

By the time I get home, I’m exhausted, physically and mentally. I leave my suitcase in the hallway, then curl up into a miserable ball under the blankets on my bed. It doesn’t take me long to fall into a deep sleep. It’s a good thing I’m still technically on spring break because I didn’t think about setting the alarm, and when I wake up, it’s almost noon.

I need a shower and coffee if I want to function at any speed today. Yet, even after both and well into my second cup of coffee, I still feel off. My head is fuzzy, and my chest hurts, but I’m not sick. It’s what a friend from college used to call a break-up hangover. Your emotions are all over the place when you’ve cried too much. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this. It solidifies that what happened between Jax and me was authentic. We weren’t just a spring break fling.

Standing in my most comfortable pajama pants and a T-shirt, I wrap my hands firmly around my favorite coffee mug and look around my apartment. What once was so familiar before the Bahamas now seems empty and cold. It reflects how I feel inside. How ironic.

It hits me all at once. These feelings aren’t just about Jax. Closing those deals and nailing down the contracts was thrilling and unexpected. Being able to conduct the meetings and make headway helps me feel like I can accomplish anything. Succeeding in the challenge is powerful.

Oh, how I love teaching. There’s a massive sense of pride when my kids understand what I give them. Seeing the lightbulbs go off when they finally catch on is terrific. But this trip taught me that business—getting someone to give me something I need and negotiating for what I want—seems truly magical.

I place my cup on the small dining table and dart into the hall closet. There, I find a box with a bunch of my old notebooks. Each one contains cigars I’ve discovered and enjoyed. My notes are plenty. There are pages filled with different tastes, origins, and the creation and growth process. Each account is meticulous. Each notebook is dated and archived. They span years of my early life. I’d forgotten how much I learned from Dad and Jax. All that exposure over time molded me into a knowledgeable woman.

But do I want to give up teaching? I love my kids.

The thoughts turn over in my mind as I flip through the pages. My phone rings, and I glance at the caller ID. Mother. She must’ve learned by now that I flew home. Hopefully, she’s not calling to berate me for not saying a proper goodbye.

“Hi, Mother.” I put the phone on speaker and set it on the table so I can continue sifting through the notebooks.

“Lily, dear. I asked the front desk to ring your room, but they told me you’d left.” Strangely, she doesn’t sound annoyed. She sounds worried for once. “Are you alright?”

Am I? No. Do I want to talk to her about it? Also no. I don’t have answers to anything, so I go with something that resembles the truth. “Yes, I’m fine. I just had to get out of there.”

“Of course, dear. I don’t blame you.” Mother pauses as she gives a heavy sigh. “Well, your dad called his lawyer. He’s dissolved all business with Jaxon and has declared the partnership’s end. He’s started buying out Jaxon’s half of the business.”

Great. I did destroy the business after all. Dad will never talk to me again.

Chapter Eighteen

Jax

Theflighthomegivesme a long time to think, not that it helps any. All I’ve done is catalog everything I’ve lost during this trip. The Bahamas trip was supposed to have been a successful business contract—obtaining a new distributor. It’s not a significant loss to return without achieving the original intent. Technically, we gained two new vendors instead of one.

But that doesn’t matter now. The partnership is dead; my business ethics thrown into question. Plus, I’m going home still single, still lonely. Only now, I feel it harder than before. Before, it was simply a fact I accepted. Now, it feels like a curse.

Before the plane lands, I get a message from my lawyer informing me Alexander has set the wheels in motion to dissolve the partnership. He’s made a generous offer for my half, which surprises me. I was expecting a legal battle to ensue between us because of how angry he is. Instead, it’s damn near eight figures outright, with payment arrangements for liquidating existing stock. This, of course, all comes through from Alexander’s lawyer to mine. I reply to my counsel accepting the offer and request they have the paperwork ready by tomorrow.

I check my phone for voicemails, texts, and emails during the taxi ride from the airport. There’s nothing I want to see. I’m not sure what I expected, considering I ignored Lily’s call back on the island. That sent a clear message, and Lily isn’t stupid or desperate. It’s not the message I meant, and I only had myself to blame if she didn’t realize I needed time to think. I can’t blame her if she doesn’t want to deal with this or me. I don’t know what Alexander said after I left. For all I know, her father could have threatened to disown her if she continued to see me.

I pull up her name in my phone more than once to call her, but every time I do, I can’t bring myself to press the call button. Even after I get home and unpack, I still think about biting the bullet and making the call. Sadly, I don’t go further than pulling her name up in the contact list and hovering over it. I don’t want the finality of her putting an end to things. I can’t bear to hear her say those words. So, I choose to live in a perpetual state of limbo, allowing me the illusion that there’s still something there. A possibility. A glimmer of hope. Despite the nagging feeling logic places in my gut, I’m not ready to accept it yet.

I need something to distract me. Something I have control over. I walk into my home office, sit down, and compile all the files, records, and legal documents I’ll need to give to my lawyer. Against all my wishes, my partnership with Alexander is ending.

It’s not the distraction I’m looking for, but it’s a good one. It forces me to focus on the task and doesn’t allow my mind to wander. Dissolving the business isn’t a simple matter of financial transactions, especially in the cigar import business. So many entities to notify and forms to provide. Tax offices, permit and license bureaus, and all government agencies. Of course, that’s my lawyer’s job, but every i will need to be dotted, every t crossed.

The least I can do is make sure all my ducks are in a row when it comes time to hand the paperwork over. I want this to be over as quickly as possible. Not that I’m eager to end the partnership, but this calls for a rip-the-Band-Aid-off type of situation. I couldn’t care less about the business.

What affects me the most is losing a man who has been my friend, my confidant, and my partner for decades. We’ve been there for each other through numerous life events. When my wife died, Alexander helped me put the pieces back together. There’s a pang in my chest when I realize this feels like losing a brother.

My only solace is that this isn’t my idea. It’s not my choice.

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