His head rears back. “Jesus, no.”
“Did you lie to her? Manipulate her? Harm her in any kind of way?”
“No.”
“Then go get her back,” she says, raising her voice, looking as though she were on the verge of stomping her foot.
“Audrey,” he says, shutting his eyes before opening them. “Don’t you think I would if I could?”
“Roman,” she says, exhaling slowly. “If there’s one thing that I have learned from my mother’s death, it’s that life is too short not to tell somebody you love them while they still have air in their lungs. Skip the bullshit and tell them before it’s too late.”
“Idid.”
She steps closer, her eyes blazing. “Tell her again, and again, andagain. Tell her until she’s sick of you. Tell her until you’re sick of your own voice. Tell her until she believes you. Because one day you might not be able to,” she says, breathing heavily. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date to get to.” She sends him one last pointed look before giving Lucy a sweet smile and sliding into her car.
As Roman takes the elevator up and sits in the waiting room, he replays her words.
Tell her again, and again, and again.
Tell her until she believes you.
Because,fuck, he misses her. It’s been over a month and he’s still stuck.
Dr. Newark runs through her routine check-up, turning to face Roman with a relaxed smile.
“The steroids are holding steady. Nothing in the urine; swelling is down. She looks good, kid. We’ll keep monitoring, but I think in the coming months we can start to wean her off,” Dr. Newark says, tapping his shoulder.
“Is she okay to travel?” he asks, sitting her up.
“Not yet. We’ll make sure to keep monitoring her and as soon as she’s clear for travel, I’ll let you know. Where are you planning to go?”
She’s your girl from the story.
Tell her until she believes you.
I’m not the girl the guy chooses in the end.
“California.”
CHAPTER 39
EVERYTHING MEANS NOTHING WITHOUT YOU
JAHLANI
Jahlani spends her twenty-seventh birthday at the office. The glass walls of the conference room reflect the city’s glow; the tables are untouched, chairs neatly arranged as if waiting for dawn.
Jahlani pushes the glass door open, taking in the still atmosphere. The faint hum of the projector is the only sound she hears as she sinks into the chair at the head of the oval table. For a moment, she pictures everything vividly—collaborating with her team, directing her projects, collecting her data with no one to stop her. She stands up, trailing a finger along the table before halting at the front of the room.
“You,” she says, pointing to the empty chair, “I needed my report yesterday. Why hasn’t it been done? And you”—she points her finger to another empty chair—“why do I have clients complaining to me about you not returning their calls after hours? Remember, without them, you have no job. Come on, people—did we leave our common sense at home today?”
She takes an exaggerated breath.
“You’re right. I’m on edge. I apologize sincerely; nobody deserves to be spoken to that way. Everyone, lunch is on me. As a matter of fact, have the rest of the day off.” She fakes a laugh.“No, thank you for being such hardworking, fastidious workers. Without you, there’s no us.”
She shakes her head at herself and waits for the familiar blanket of loneliness to settle in, before grabbing her bags and leaving.
When she enters the apartment building, she waves to Donny at the concierge desk, sidling up with a smile.
