CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
DREW
––––––––
I transfer the five million to Zander’s account the next morning, and he rings me five minutes later to tell me I’m a fucking idiot.
He’s not alone in thinking that.
“A bet is a bet.” I lean back in my chair and stare out at the view.
Everything in my life feels bleak, empty, and miserable.
I walked out of the hospital room knowing I’d destroyed things between Gemma and me. Perhaps it was for the best.
She deserves better.
“How is she?” Zander asks, crunching down on whatever he’s eating.
“She found out about the bet. It’s over.”
“Did you tell her?”
“I didn’t fucking tell her. Did you?”
“Dude. The fuck? Why would I tell her? Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know. Only the two of us knew—”
“Oh, crap,” Zander interrupts. “I made a comment at the party. Gemma must have overheard.”
I shake my head.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s for the best,” I say, feeling dead inside. “She and Zoe deserve much more than I can offer.”
She now has around twenty million in her bank account, so if that doesn’t help with the penthouse repayments, then she’ll find another home.
Another man.
I curse inwardly, hating whoever the fictional (for now) man is.
“Because you asked her to be your lover, or she learned you’ve chopped up her daughter’s family legacy and sold it to the highest bidder?”
Asshole.
“It’s what I do.”
“Maybe this time it’s different. Did you try to salvage it?”
“Do I look like a fucking BookToker?”
“A what?”
“Never mind,” I grumble and stand up, wandering to the floor to ceiling windows, staring out across Central Park. “She’s taken care of. Zoe can go to the best school and create her own magnificent path.” I smile. “She’ll probably work in robotics.”
“Do I know what that means?” Zander asks.
No. No, he doesn’t.
But I do, because for a brief time I was part of their little family. And I took it for granted because I never believed they could belong to me.
I didn’t think I wanted them to.
But I do.
I fucking do.
Stupid water in this godforsaken town. I think I’m in love with her.
“I’ve ruined it, haven’t I?”
“I’m not a relationship expert, but I don’t think Gemma is looking for a regular fuck.” Zander shares his great wisdom. “I also don’t think that’s what you want.”
Total sen-sei.
“Bold claim, given my history.”
“Yeah, well I’m seeing a lot of fucking strange shit from my friends recently. Admit it, you have fallen in love with her.”
I snort.
He’s right but admitting it out loud is a whole other thing.
“Name one other women you’ve thrown yourself into danger to save on the streets of New York.”
“Well, not New York, but there was that one time in Morocco when we thought we saw a shark.”
Zander is quiet.
I can also see his bewildered expression.
“You mean with the twins when you told them to take their bright orange bikinis off because they’d attract sharks? When there were no sharks.”
I smile.
“Dude. Go get your girl.” He hangs up on me.
I pocket my phone into my jeans and turn to face the room. It’s empty. I’m out of my comfort zone here.
How do you go get your girl?
Especially when she’s hurt, just learned her husband cheated, and thinks all I want is to sleep with her semi-frequently.
How do I come to grips with the fact I want way more? That letting her and Zoe into my heart would destroy me if Gemma changes her mind and leaves me?
Like Jack did.
Like Mom did.
Is this what I want? Someone who wants Saturday nights at home with popcorn and a movie—probably a kid’s movie—and outings the next day at the zoo.
Gemma wants vacations in Hawaii and Disneyland, eating ice cream that drips down her hand and music recitals, and teacher-parent interviews.
She wants a husband.
She probably wants more children.
I visualize her carrying my baby, and my feet start walking.
Then my phone rings, and I see it's Zander.
“Rude hanging up.” I grin, rubbing the back of my head as I stand in the middle of the room.
“It’s me,” Sebastian says, and I roll my eyes. I should have known Zander wasn’t on his own. “I have something to say. Something deep.”
I chuckle silently.
“Okay.”
“Marriage isn’t the death penalty we all once thought it was.”
“Yeah.” I don’t commit because I’m sort of mid acceptance here about the whole thing. I need to process. I need to have Gemma in my arms and work it out. “Okay, good talk.”
“So, tell her your feelings and that shit,” Sebastian adds.
Jesus, lucky he didn’t decide to be a therapist.
I hear a noise and my eyes narrow. “Who else is there?”
“Me,” Mason says.
“And me,” Colt answers.
Unbelievable.
Was this an intervention by the loved-up squad?
“Listen, Gemma is a widow. Her husband has lied and cheated. Her life is in chaos. I don’t know—”
“Swoop in, Superman. The time is ripe.” Colt slurps something.
“Okay, Mr. Fly Across the World To Get His Girl.” I shake my head.
“Worked, though, didn’t it,” Colt says joyfully.
I can’t argue with that because it did, although I had to sleep on the ground outside the airport so we could stop her running away.
So I know it’s not that easy.
Not like the movies make it out to be.
“Gemma isn’t Riley. She’s a mom and...”
“Riley and I are about to be parents,” Colt reminds me. “I watched the way Gemma looked at you on Friday night. She was mad, I spotted that a mile away, but do you know why?”
“Why?” I force out.
“Because she is in love with you, bozo.”
“Yeah, I think she is, too,” Mason adds.
“People do it all the time.”
I turn and stare at the enormous, gold-framed mirror over the gas fireplace. Could Gemma be in love with me?
“I need your help,” I tell the guys, a plan forming.
“Yeah, let’s do—” someone starts
“And your wives,” I add.
“Oooh no. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea,” Sebastian drawls.
“My house. Three o’clock. Bring snacks,” I say, and stride down to my office.
Then hang up.