A smile curls along her lips. “I love you too. This weekend was…” she trails off with a dreamy exhale, and my heart swells.
“I know. Will you come back again tonight? Or I can come to your place?”
She nods happily. “Come to mine, if you don’t mind sharing a bathroom with Eric?”
I chuckle. “I don’t mind. I want to be in your bed. See what it’s like to sleep beside you there.”
“I’d love that,” she breathes. She hesitates, flicking a glance along the street before leaning over the center console to brush her lips to mine. They’re soft and perfect, sending a fizzle of heat through me, and I ache for more as she pulls away.
With a resigned sigh, I watch her climb from my car and head into the coffee shop, and I continue along Fruit Street with a yawn. The weekend was amazing, but I’m exhausted. Not from Iris, but from being unable to sleep, mind churning as I wondered how to talk to her about ADHD. I still haven’t mentioned it, and it’s weighing on me heavily. I didn’t want to ruin our weekend, but more than that, I’m terrified of hurting her. What if itisoverstepping, suggesting this to her? What if she thinks I’m judging her, saying she’s somehow damaged, that there’s something wrong with her? I can’t stand the thought of destroying this thing between us when it’s so new and fragile. Can’t stand the thought of destroyingher.
But every time I decide it’s not my place, I hear Sophie’s words—You have to tell her… it’s changed everything for me—and resolve to stop being such a coward.
Today, I decide as I climb the stairs to my office. After work today, we’ll go to her place. I’ll make us dinner and sit her down, and do it. I’ll be gentle and kind and hope she sees it’s from a place of love. That’s the best I can do.
I set my briefcase on my desk, heaving a weary sigh. The office is quiet, thankfully, but before I even have a moment to turn on my computer, John pokes his head into the room.
“Brooks,” he says, looking strangely pleased with himself. “My office. Now.”
Christ, has he always been so demanding?
“Good morning to you too,” I mutter to his retreating back, shrugging off my jacket and hanging it on the coat stand by my door. Then I head to his office, wondering what the hell it is this time. All that agonizing over whether to accept his offer of partnership was for nothing. He never mentioned it on Friday. It was nothing more than drunken rambling. Another empty promise to keep me in line.
But when I enter John’s office, I’m surprised to find him leaning casually against his desk, clutching a stack of papers, a self-satisfied smile on his mouth.
“I’ve got the partnership agreement drafted,” he says, motioning to one of the acrylic Ghost Chairs opposite him. “Let’s go over the details.”
I freeze.
Holy shit. He’s actually going through with it.
I glance at the papers in his hand, wondering what they say. What the offer is, what my share would be. How generous or stingy. It’s everything I’ve worked for, here in black and white, a reality. Within my grasp, so fucking close.
And I know I can’t take it.
No, I don’twantto take it. I don’t want to partner with John. In fact, I want nothing to do with him.
“Thank you, John,” I say carefully.
He won’t take this well, and while I’m not worried about hurting his feelings, I am worried about him destroying my reputation as an architect. He’s powerful enough in this industry to do that if he wanted.
“But… I can’t accept it.”
“What?” John asks, obviously thrown. After me chasing this for eight years, I’m not surprised.
But people change. People grow and learn what truly matters to them.
I square my shoulders, looking him dead in the eye so there’s no mistaking me. “I can’t accept it,” I repeat calmly.
“But…” He shakes his head in confusion, thrusting the papers toward me. “You haven’t evenlookedat it.”
“I don’t need to. I already know it’s not what I want.”
“Not what youwant?” he splutters in disbelief. “What are you talking about?” His eyes narrow in suspicion. “Is another firm poaching you?”
“No.” I pause, considering my words. I’m not going to reveal my relationship with Iris, that’s not my place, but I’m also not going to let him believe he’s done nothing wrong. “I don’t feel comfortable with the way you treat… some of the employees.”
Something happens to him then. His face darkens, red creeping up from his collar, as he tosses the papers onto his desk behind him.
