Chapter 22 #2
Brandon had been my wild card. An unexpected wrench in the gears that was my boring life here in the city.
Being surrounded by my childhood, and by him, had gotten me to reevaluate a lot of things. Had me thinking that maybe staying in Ellington Heights wasn’t so bad of an idea after all.
What was holding me in this city aside from avoiding my father who was now dead?
Outside of the drama with Ana Liapovich, I had the freedom to do whatever the hell I wanted now. Live wherever I wanted, including my childhood home back in Ellington Heights where I didn’t fear my father showing up just to fuck with me.
Could I live in Ellington Heights again?
At the very least, I’d have to quit my job.
There’d be no way of moving a company that size to a small town like Ellington Heights without some major economic pitfalls and tanking all of my employees’ hard work.
Selling it off was an idea, along with turning it over to my VP, who’d been one of my best performers and confidants when cycling through our various board of directors until we’d finally settled on our current one.
An early retirement didn’t sound so bad. I had the McAllister property to call home and enough money to live more than comfortably for the next few centuries even if I never picked up a damn pen ever again.
Would Brandon want me to?
My stomach churned at the question.
I wanted him to want me to—stupid as that was. Me, a grown man, searching for the approval of another.
But wouldn’t he be the entire reason I’d be leaving my life here and picking up and moving back to Ellington Heights?
I had no other reason to. It wasn’t like my father’s, or rather, my estate couldn’t run itself as long as the bills were paid.
Hell, I bet Hazel loved having the entire place to herself and the staff. They could do whatever they wanted so long as the upkeep on it was maintained.
“Avery!”
Turning to the sound of my name, I spotted a man pushing his way through the security line, having just been checked, while he slung a bag over his shoulder and jogged over to me.
His dark hair was shaggy and pulled back from his face in a half-updo, his beard, which was usually well-groomed, looked messy and slightly greasy, like he’d been running his fingers through it nervously over the past few hours.
He was tall, probably around Brandon’s height, but had a much more slender build.
Ryan.
He was panting heavily, probably having just run all the way from the parking garage to get over here. When he reached me, he bent over at his waist and rested his hands on his knees.
My lips thinned. I had half a mind to chastise him—but for what, I wasn’t really sure. We’d always had a bit of friction between us, so it was hard not to automatically fall right into that, even when there was nothing to argue about. “Your flight get in okay?”
He nodded, swallowing back a rough breath before straightening up again. “Yeah... long as hell. But I made it.”
The elevator dinged, the doors parting for a small group of people to leave before we climbed in ourselves. I jammed my finger against the button for Eva’s floor and settled myself back against the wall behind us. Ryan let the bag slip from his shoulder—an overnight duffle—while doing the same.
“How is she?” he asked.
“She isn’t awake yet. Still has an IV and an oxygen mask on, but the doctors are confident she’s going to be okay.”
He visibly sagged in relief. “Good. That’s... That’s good.”
All right, maybe it was the softie in me who had recently been seeing the light of day more often now that I had Brandon back, that gave me the half a mind to reach over and clap the man on the shoulder.
Ryan wasn’t a bad man by any means, clearly caring very deeply about his daughter and soon-to-be wife.
Whatever beef existed was between us and didn’t need to affect anything else.
Holding up the bag, I pulled out the stuffed plush. “Found this in the gift store for Eva. Figured she’d like it.”
When I handed it over to him, he snorted. “That’s... definitely something she’d be into.”
“I had a feeling.”
He squeezed it a few times in his hands, a frown slowly creeping over his face.
I opened the bag up for him to drop it inside, then offered it to him. “You should give it to her.”
While his brow quirked, he took the bag anyway. “Not wanting to play hero today?”
I almost rolled my eyes. “That’s not what I came here to do, Ryan.”
He looked like he was about to argue with me, most likely to accuse me of whatever ridiculous bullshit he’d been cooking up in his head the entire flight over here, but then stopped himself at the last moment.
If this were any other time and I wasn’t just coming off of a mind-blowing, and frankly, life-altering, phone sex call that had me actually contemplating imploding my entire life and moving back to my hometown at the mere possibility of my childhood best friend being interested in taking things to the next level, I’d probably be telling this man off before we got up to Eva’s floor.
That being said, it was also quite obvious that Ryan was under a lot of stress at the moment.
It wasn’t like it was fun news to get in the middle of a work trip that his daughter was sick enough to be brought to the hospital and was currently hooked up to a bunch of machines that were five times the size of her.
“Sorry,” he finally mumbled. And then he sighed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re here to—I’m being an asshole.”
At least you’re finally admitting it.
“I’m not here to steal your place, Ryan. I came because she called and you weren’t answering your phone.”
His lips pressed together. “I know.”
When the elevator slowed and the doors chimed open, I pulled myself away from the wall and stepped out into the hallway. He followed after me, tugging his bag back up onto his shoulder and hooking the one I’d given him around his wrist.
“Listen,” he said, moving away from the doors. “What I said on the phone to you. It was wrong. I know you’re only here to support Carrie because she asked you to. I know neither of you would do anything behind my back.”
“No offense, Ryan, but if I wanted to keep her, I would have. We had a good life together.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
I paused before answering.
It was a genuine question, not one asked out of malice of contempt. If I were in his shoes, I’d be curious, too. Carrie was an incredible woman; beautiful, highly accomplished, and came from a long line of wealth that would make most people’s jaws drop.
She was a total catch and Ryan was damn lucky to be marrying her, as was I at the time.
Being comfortable in a marriage wasn’t the same as being passionate.
Loving her like a companion wasn’t the same as loving her like a partner.
Keeping us both trapped in a marriage while trying to justify my very surface level feelings wasn’t fair.
Not when I knew she could be with someone better, more affectionate and doting.
Just like she deserved.
And that wasn’t me. No matter how hard I tried.
At the end of the day, us splitting up meant we could both move on. Her with Ryan and me with...
Well.
I grabbed Ryan’s shoulder and squeezed it. “She was meant to be with you. I loved her but not in the way she deserved. You make her happy. That’s all I care about.”
His mouth opened as he clearly meant to say something, only to slowly close once more.
“Listen. As long as you’re good to her and Eva, we have no animosity between us,” I said.
He gave me a slow nod, exhaling through his nose. “All right.”
Letting him go, I gestured down the hallway. “They’re in room 405.”
“You’re not coming?”
I shook my head, catching the doors to the elevator before they closed again. “I think you’ve got it from here. Let Carrie know I had something that came up. Have her text me when she can once Eva wakes up.”
“I will. And... thank you, Avery.”
Slipping back into the elevator, I gave Ryan a quick nod before punching the door close button a few times. I felt a little bad for ditching so suddenly, but honestly, now was not the time to be intruding on a family moment like that.
There was no doubt in my mind that Carrie would be grateful for me being there for her, but at the end of the day, she’d wanted her soon-to-be-husband by her side, not her ex. I was fine with that—more than fine, actually, since it meant I got to go home to see Brandon again.
We needed to talk. We needed to sort out where we were going and what we wanted going forward. If this was just a sexual thing, fine, I could handle that. He didn’t seem to mind me fumbling through things like an inexperienced virgin.
If it was more than that?
My stomach tightened with butterflies.
We needed to figure it out. I needed to figure it out like he’d asked me to in the car.
I owed him that much.