“I can help with that,” Oliver said immediately. “Call my assistant. He can get one here.”
“That’s perfect, Oli. Thank you. Here—” I pulled up the contact and handed it to Ethan. “Use my phone. The files are there. You can take a look after you call.”
Oliver’s thumbs were flying over his screen. “I’ve texted him. He knows what it’s about.”
Ethan stood, already dialing. “I’ll take care of it.” He paused, studying my face. “Want me to get you something for that headache?”
I smiled and shook my head. He squeezed my shoulder as he passed—brief, comforting—then stepped toward the quieter end of the corridor, voice low as he handled the details. I watched him go a second longer than I meant to.
When I looked back, Henry was staring at me like he’d just witnessed a solar eclipse. Oliver’s expression was quieter, but no less stunned.
I reached for my coffee. “What?”
“Nothing.” Henry looked down, biting back a smile. “Not saying a word.”
Oliver swallowed, a small curve to his lips. “He’s good, right?”
I arched a brow.
“He’s clever,” Oliver went on. “When he worked at the company, he even had Dad impressed.”
Something warm and fierce swelled in my chest. “He’s amazing,” I said. “Marcela—the head of marketing—loves him. People above his pay grade…” I let a grin slip. “Not so much.”
Henry leaned his elbows on the table, still pretending to be focused on his bagel. “So, as long as we’re talking about E…” He glanced over his shoulder, then back at me. “What, pray tell, does your boyfriend think of all this? Slumber parties and whatnot?”
Both of them waited.
“We broke up.”
Oliver sank back in his chair. “Oh, thank fuck.”
“Jesus Christ, Ash.” Henry set his breakfast down, the paper crinkling softly. “Way to keep us all in suspense. You couldn’t just say that?” He frowned. “When?”
“A little while ago,” I said. “Ethan knows. I told him on the way over.”
“So what now?” Oliver asked.
“Finally admitting to what everyone with functioning eyesight has known for years?” Henry chimed in.
Oliver snorted into his coffee as I shot Henry a look.
“Now we talk.” My gaze flicked to Ethan, still pacing with the phone pressed to his ear. “It’s long overdue.”
Henry followed my line of sight, then looked back at me, something like relief flickering across his face. “Okay,” he said, nodding once. “Good. That’s… good.”
“So you’re getting back together?” Oliver asked.
I took a slow sip of coffee. “If he’ll have me.”
Henry rolled his eyes. “He moved to another continent for you, is fixing your mess from a hospital hallway, and hasn’t taken his eyes off you since we got here. I’d say your odds are decent.”
Oliver’s mouth twitched.
“You more than anybody know how badly I’ve fucked this up. All the time I wasted…” I shook my head. “There’s a lot of groveling to be done. A lot to mend.”
I’d made so many mistakes with Ethan from the moment we met that they blurred into one long chain, each one another blow to his pride. To his heart. Even if he wanted to be here for me—even if he’d told me he did—believing we could grow past this was another thing entirely. Believing I could give him what he needed… and that he would trust me enough to accept it.
Oliver’s hand landed on my shoulder, bringing my attention back to him. “We all fuck up, Ash. That’s just life.” He shrugged. “It’s how you show up after that counts.”
