“Georgie hates me. There’s no hope.” I take a long drink. “I chose wrong at every f—flipping turn.”
Liam snorts, trying to prevent his son from grabbing the whisky. “There’s always hope. You just have to stop being a coward about it.”
“I don’t know what else to do to fix this situation.” I run a hand through my hair, exhausted. “I hurt her badly.”
“Look, you want my honest opinion?” Liam says simply, shifting his son to his other hip. “You’re doing that thing where you decide you’re irredeemable instead of trying to redeem yourself.”
“That’s not—”
“It is,” Edward interrupts. “You’ve decided she’s too good and pure and you’re too much of a bastard, so why bother trying? It’s actually quite self-indulgent.”
“Fuck off.” I take another drink. “I’m not good with the emotional side of this. I’m trying to fix it in practical terms. I’ve signed over the IP for IRIS. I’m hiring consultants who’ve coached FTSE 100 leaders on building healthy cultures. Complete restructure of management practices.”
“That’s all business,” Liam says. “What about the personal side?”
“I don’t know how to fix that part.” I groan.
“How do you do it with Daisy?” I ask Edward. “You’re complete opposites.”
Edward considers this with characteristic deliberation. “We are rather.”
“So how does it work?”
“I’d have spent my entire life doing what was expected—appropriate marriage to someone from the right family, respectable career, suitable everything. Then Daisy crashed into my world, and I realized I’d been existing rather than living, if you’ll forgive the cliché.”
I chuckle. Edward’s old money through and through, heir to the Cavendish estate, so upper class he probably bleeds blue. Meanwhile, Daisy’s a free spirit, a proper working-class girl who used to sell bathroom products on late-night shopping channels. The kind of programming I’d rather gouge my eyes out than watch.
Her mum used to clean at the Cavendish estate for Edward’s mum. She is vivacious, loud, and bubbly. She says whatever pops into her head. Edward thinks through every word before speaking.
She’s everything his mother despises. And Edward’s never been happier.
But there’s a fundamental difference between Edward and Daisy, and me and Georgie. Edward’s built for relationships. Before Daisy, he was married for years and loved his late wife completely.
I’ve never managed more than a few months with anyone. I wonder if I’m even built for that or if I’m too selfish. Georgie deserves more than being an experiment for me while I work myself out.
“You want my advice?” Liam cuts in, wiping jam off his son’s face with what looks like a Hermès tie. “Stop thinking like a CEO. Start thinking like a man in love.”
My glass stops halfway to my mouth. “Did those words just come from Liam McLaren?”
“I’m serious. What would you do if you couldn’t buy your way out? Couldn’t fix it with contracts and consultants? If all you had was yourself?”
The question hangs there. If all I had was myself—that’s the problem. Myself chose Craig. Myself stood there while security marched her out. Myself is exactly what she needs protecting from.
Junior toddles over, offering me a sticky block covered in jam. “For you, Uncle Pat.”
I take it solemnly. “Thanks, mate.”
“See?” Liam gestures at his son. “Even my two-year-old knows how to give from the heart.”
I meet Jake at a pub near London Bridge. He’s already there when I arrive, nursing a pint.
“Thanks for meeting me,” I say, sitting down carefully. Out of swinging range, just in case.
“Didn’t do it for you.” He gives me a curt nod. “But what you did with the IT system, giving Georgie the rights… that was the decent thing to do, even though I know that’s a fucked-up business decision. So, thanks. Even though I’m still fucking furious with you.”
“Fair.”
We sit in silence. Years of friendship reduced to this: two blokes who can’t meet each other’s eyes over a pub table.
