What Colin still doesn’t seem to understand is that I don’t bring up his hours to nag him. I miss him. We all do. The kids feel every inch of his absence. And after what happened last month—when he let Alicia down—whatever thin thread was holding him and Ethan together has only stretched tighter.
Alicia clings to every moment she gets with him. Ethan… just steps further back.
I’ve barely seen Colin myself these past weeks. Except on the rare evenings he made it home for dinner, or the nights he woke me only to make love and fall asleep again. Otherwise, he’s here mostly on weekends, and even then, half his Saturday still vanishes into work.
Doesn’t he miss us the way we miss him?
I force the thought away. Of course he does.
But sometimes I wonder if he’ll ever figure out how to chase the life he wants without losing the one he already has.
Knowing sleep won’t come back, I slip out of bed and head downstairs to start breakfast, waiting for a reasonable hour to call my mom. Maybe I’ll take the kids over for lunch.
Today feels like one of those days when the familiarity of the house I grew up in might be the only thing steady enough to hold me together.
Colin
When I step off the elevator, I spot Theodora alone, leaning over Margaret’s desk. She’s on the phone, so I just nod and make my way to my office.
A few minutes later, she appears at my door, tapping lightly before stepping inside.
“Good morning, Colin.” There’s a strain in her voice she triesto hide. “I was speaking with Margaret’s husband. She had an accident, and he needed some insurance information she left here in her planner.”
Margaret has been with me for over six years. Reliable, meticulous, the kind of assistant you know you can trust with anything. And she still has young kids at home.
I can only hope the accident isn’t serious. I tell Theodora I’ll cover whatever the insurance doesn’t.
She nods, adding that Margaret’s husband didn’t have many details. He sounded disoriented, only able to mention a surgery.
“I’ll head back to my office,” she says, “and arrange for one of the junior executive assistants to fill in for Margaret during her medical leave.”
“Have Maya Fisher fill in.”
A brief look of surprise crosses her face before she smooths it away.
“Maya… the one hired in June?” She hesitates. “I could send Isabella Wilson instead. She’s been with the company longer and has—”
“Maya Fisher,” I cut in, my tone leaving no room for negotiation. “She’s already accompanied me to meetings, knows how I work, and has assisted Margaret before. I’m not repeating unnecessary instructions for someone I’ve never worked with.”
Theodora’s lips press together before she inclines her head.
“Of course. I’ll see to it.”
Her tone makes it obvious my choice unsettles her, but that’s her problem, not mine. I didn’t build my career by justifying every decision I make, and I’m not about to start now.
The distant hum of traffic rises from the street, drifting up to the terrace. A welcome contrast to the suffocating noise inside.
It’s my father’s birthday, and we’re gathered at my parents’ Upper East Side penthouse, an intimate dinner with family and a handful of their closest friends. The same faces, orbiting the same conversations, resurrecting the same tired, embarrassing stories to squeeze out a laugh or a wince.
I let them entertain themselves. I’m not that boy anymore. Hungry for approval, desperate to belong, always trying to prove myself.
“Missing the view from up here?”
My father’s voice cuts in behind me. I close my eyes for a second. Here we go.
“Not in the least,” I say, dismissive.
“Your mother mentioned there’s a penthouse for sale about twenty minutes from here.”
