“I’m sorry, baby.”
Her hand appears from under the water, soapy and smelling of lavender, and I take it and bring it to my lips.
“Don’t be. I did everything I was supposed to do. I courted him to the best of my ability, buckled down and worked harder than ever, went above and beyond to make sure my clients were happy and taken care of, and it—” She sucks in a sharp breath. “It still wasn’t enough.Iwasn’t enough.”
There are so many things I want to say, but as a man, my experiences are so much different than women’s. Especially one in a male-dominated field working in an office that treats her like an outsider rather than a teammate.
If Shay were a man, not only would she have probably gotten Garrett and the promotion, but nobody would’ve batted an eye when she started dating a client.
“I didn’t want to make your life harder,” I breathe against her wrist.
She hesitates, then laughs quietly. “You didn’t, Cade. If anything, you make it lighter.”
“But what if that’s why you didn’t get the job? Or the promotion? And that argument with your mom?” When her brows scrunch, I try to jog her memory. “After you told Trevor we were together, we had a movie night and she called you. It didn’t sound good.”
“Oh, that.” Her free hand comes above the surface and she waves. “Mom taught me how to keep myself safe, so when I told her I decided to date my ex-client, I expected a blowup.” For the first time in three days, she smiles. “It started off rocky, but it ended up being the best conversation we’ve had in years. I think that was the first time I’ve ever heard her say she doesn’t care about my job. All she wanted to do was make sure that my heart was okay. That I was safe. My happiness and certainty about you comforted her.”
Feeling a sense of relief, I squeeze her hand. I know how important those words from her mother must be.
“I’m still sorry this is happening. But I’ll be right by your side.”
A full bottom lip pushes into a pout. “Until you leave me for three days.” The bath drain gurgles as she readjusts and turns to face me. “Thank you for being here. It’s just hard. I knew having it all was a myth, but for some reason I thought I could be the exception. It’s clear I can’t, and I need to come to terms with that.”
“No,” I say quickly. “You don’t need to come to terms with anything because that’s bullshit, Shay. What does ‘having it all’ mean?”
Foamy bubbles cling to her raised shoulder. “I don’t know. I’ve always seen it as the nice-paying job, the nice house and cars that show how hard you’ve worked.”
“But what does it mean to you? Define what ‘it all’ is to Shaylene Turner. Nobody else.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s a dream. A myth.”
Fighting her on this may not be the smartest idea, but I can’t stop.
“It matters to you, Shay, which means it matters. Tell me.”
As if all the fight drains from her, she slumps forward and relents. “To me, having it all means being successfulandhappy. I want to be an agent who treats her clients like human beings. I want to get more than three hours of sleep a night and not feel a pit of dread in my stomach every time I step into the office. I want time with my best friends to be a regular part of my life, not a bimonthly occasion that I spend thinking about work.” My stomach takes a nosedive when she sits up and holds my gaze, warm and unhurried. “And I want love. As uncontrollable and scary as it is, I want it. I spent so much time avoiding it because I didn’t think it could be part of my ‘all.’ But now you’re here and—”
“I do love you, by the way.”
Surprise blooms in her features. “You don’t have to say it ju—”
“I’m not saying it just because, Shay baby. I’ve loved you since before I left for California, and it’s only grown since then. You don’t understand how hard it’s been to not let it slip while eating cereal with you in the morning, or on the couch as you mouth every word to your favorite rom-coms, or when I watch you put your heart and soul into your job.” I swallow hard. “If it wouldn’t have been utterly insane, I would’ve said it the moment I walked into Permian and saw you standing there by the window.”
I do love her. Always have and I always will.
But maybe this wasn’t the time to tell her.
Before she can respond, I shake my head. “I’m sorry. You’re drowning your sorrows in a bubble bath, and I’m confessing a long-kept secret. I should’ve said it over a fancy dinner or after a baseball game. Maybe at Slim Jim’s, since it’s our place—”
“I love you too, you rambling fool.”
Without another word, she pulls me into the bathtub with her. It doesn’t matter that my clothes are soaked and there are bubbles in my hair, because this is where I’m meant to be. Shay doesn’t love me because I’m good at baseball or the golden boy.
She loves me because I’m a rambling idiot who has been in love with her since college and will be for the rest of my life.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Traitors,” I spit, pointingat them. “You’re all traitors.”
