Chapter 39
thirty-nine
. . .
Bridger
Good morning. I feel like today is going to be a good day.
Axel
Did someone steal Bridger’s phone?
Clark
Therapy is making him a ray of sunshine.
Archer
He’s making me want to go to therapy.
Easton
It feels a little forced to me. “Today is going to be a good day”? That doesn’t even sound like you.
Rafe
I like it. Maybe he’ll stop insulting me next.
Fuck you. Debbie said I have to start saying something positive to someone once a day. It’s part of the next phase of her “treatment” to fix my dark, jaded, fucked up mind.
Easton
And she said you could text it?
She didn’t clarify. I don’t want to be friendly in person because I don’t want people to think I want them to engage with me. So this is the best I can do.
Rafe
It’s a start, but I think in person would be more powerful.
And I think you dress like a fucking Easter egg. Grow a pair and stop wearing pastels.
Rafe
Pink is the new black.
Archer
Archer
Have you talked to Emilia yet?
Axel
Give him time. He needs to work on himself first.
Rafe
That could take a lifetime, so you might want to start the conversation with her.
Fuck you very much. I’ve got a plan.
Easton
Please say it doesn’t involve a toilet. That was a shitty plan. Pun intended.
Clark
Just tell the girl how you feel, and you can keep working on yourself after.
Rafe
Right. It’s a marathon not a sprint.
I meet with Debbie today to discuss this further. I’ve sent you the positive affirmation and my work here is done.
A bunch of middle finger emojis came through the text chain, but I tucked my phone in my back pocket and grabbed my keys.
My phone rang as I drove to my therapist’s office, and Brenner’s voice came through the Bluetooth.
“Hey, boss,” he said. “Jacqueline was late for the third time this week. I’ve heard she’s dealing with some drama at home, but I know you don’t tolerate repeated tardiness.
Should I have HR write her up?” Jacqueline was an engineer who’d worked for me for two years, and she’d impressed me on multiple occasions.
“Nah. Set up a meeting for me and her tomorrow morning. I’ll be in the city. Maybe there’s something going on with her. Let me see if I can get to the bottom of it,” I said as I pulled into the parking lot at Debbie’s office.
“I’m not going to lie, I enjoy this gentler, softer version of you.” He chuckled.
I rolled my eyes. “Not gentle or soft, asshole.”
“Whatever you say, boss.” He paused, but I could tell he had more to say by the way he kept starting and stopping a sentence.
“I’ve got an appointment, Brenner. Spit it out.”
“I miss our girl. Any chance you’re going to fix that situation soon? I want to hire her to do a renovation on my condo, but I don’t want to piss off my overbearing boss.”
I barked out a laugh. “You are such a dickhead sometimes. You can obviously hire her anytime you want. But yes, I’m working on it. I miss her, too.”
A loud, dramatic sigh came through the speaker of my truck. “Well, lookee here. The broody bastard really does have a heart.”
“Hey, even the sun shines on a dog’s ass some days.” I laughed. “I’ve got to go. Get that meeting set up. I’ll be in the office tomorrow.”
I made my way upstairs to Debbie’s office. I’d met with her three times a week for the last few weeks. Much more than I wanted to meet, but she’d drawn a hard line in the sand, insisting it was necessary.
Apparently, I was a fucked-up mess, which could all be fixed by admitting it.
Not really my style, but I was motivated.
I wasn’t sleeping well, I’d lost my appetite, and I missed my lady.
I missed her laugh.
I missed her smile.
Hell, I missed the way she karate-chopped the throw pillows on the couch and made my coffee with a little cinnamon heart on the foam every morning.
I missed her body.
I missed her voice.
So, I would do whatever it took to be worthy, even if it meant begging her to come back to me.
I knocked on the door, and Debbie called out for me to come inside. I took my seat on the brown faded leather couch and crossed my feet at the ankles.
“You seem… lighter today,” Debbie said. She had blonde hair that was cut blunt at her shoulders, and she wore red glasses and always a colorful dress.
“So I’ve been told.”
She had her notebook resting on her lap as she sat in the chair across from me. “What positive affirmation did you share today?”
“I texted my family good morning, and said it was going to be a good day.”
She chuckled. “All right. It’s an improvement. And did you text Emilia today?”
“I text her the same thing every day.” I rubbed my face. “That I’m working on myself. Hopefully she’ll wait for me.”
“She told you that she loved you, so why wouldn’t she wait for you?”
I thought it over. “I think she will. I think we’d both wait forever for one another if we needed to.”
Her lips turned up in the corners as she leaned back in her chair. “And you seem to fully grasp why setting up a life for her across the country without speaking to her first was an irrational thing to do. Do you think you’re ready to explain the reason why you did that to her?”
“I do.”
“And you don’t need to wrap it up in a fancy gift. No distractions. Just words, Bridger. Just tell her how you feel. What your fears are. What your hopes are. That’s all anyone wants from the person they love.”
I nodded. “I understand that, although I do believe you are all underestimating the value of a fabulous toilet.”
She chuckled. “I like this side of you.”
“And what side is that?” I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees.
“The side that’s light and humorous. Real and honest. Vulnerable at times.”
“Well, as much as I despise admitting it, this has been helpful. Thank you for making time to see me so much these last few weeks,” I said.
“Our work is not done here,” she said, giving me a look. “But you’ve made some good progress. I think you should share what we’ve discussed with Emilia. Start with that.”
I nodded. “I will. And I know I have more work to do. According to my family, it’ll take a lifetime.”
She chuckled. “Most of us need work and help along the way. And a lifetime of talking is never a bad thing.”
I pushed to my feet, suddenly feeling the need to go see Emilia.
“Go do what you need to do. I’ve been waiting for this moment,” she said as she stood and pulled the door open.
I said my goodbyes and made my way to my truck, then drove straight to the flower shop.
I’d heard from the girls how well she was doing.
How she’d been hired to design a bunch of vacation rentals.
But I knew she was still working out of the Vintage Rose, and I couldn’t wait one more second to speak to her.
It was time.
I parked in back, then made my way to the entrance, pulled the door open, and stepped inside. Beatrice looked up, and she smiled.
“If it isn’t the broody billionaire.” She chuckled. “I’m guessing you’re looking for our girl?”
I walked toward the counter. “I am. Is she here?”
“She’s in the back.” She thrust a thumb over her shoulder. “It’s about time you showed up.”
I smirked. “Couldn’t agree more.”
I walked behind the counter and knocked on the office door, and she called out to come in.
The sound of her voice comforted me in a way I couldn’t begin to explain.
I’d had a dull ache in the center of my chest for weeks.
Emilia Taylor was the reason.
As the door pushed open, she looked up from her desk, her dark hair falling all around her shoulders, her blue eyes sparking when they locked with mine.
She didn’t speak. She didn’t get up. She just watched me as I shut the door behind me and took the seat across from her.
“Do you have a minute?” I asked. “Or actually, I’d prefer a lifetime if you can spare it?”
“A lifetime, huh? That sounds serious.”
There was no anger there anymore, which seemed hopeful. But she still hadn’t gotten up or hugged me, so I wouldn’t put the cart before the horse just yet.
“Yep. That’s the endgame, but I suppose right now I owe you some answers,” I said, leaning forward, ready to tell her everything.
“I’m listening.”
“I fucked up, and though I expected it to happen, what I did is unacceptable. All of it.”
“Agreed,” she said with a sigh.
“I’ve been seeing a therapist. One I’ve seen before, many years ago, but was too stubborn to go back to when I needed it most,” I said, clasping my hands together.
“The mind is a powerful thing, Emilia, and mine is no stranger to going to dark places. And from the moment you told me that you loved me, I knew I felt it, too, but I was too damn scared to say it. I had an irrational fear of losing you. Of loving you and losing you. Because it’s happened in my past. And then there was this fear that even if I didn’t lose you, I’d hurt you.
Because… and this is a lot. Are you ready for this? ”
She nodded. “I am. Let’s hear it.”
“Apparently, I’ve blamed myself for my biological mother’s death, which in turn made me blame myself for my mother’s grief about losing her sister.
” I blew out a breath. “Honestly, it’s not as if I didn’t know this—I mean, I’ve addressed it before, but I’m not cured.
It’s not something I can just turn on and off.
But I am more aware of my fears, and I want to share them with you. ”
She nodded as the first tear rolled down her cheek. “I want you to share them with me, not send me away.”
“I know. And I’m sorry it took me so long to face it all.
” I moved to my feet and walked around the desk, leaning over her and pressing one hand on each side of her chair.
“I know how lucky I am to be loved by you. And I want you to feel just as lucky to be loved by me. Because what we have, angel, it doesn’t come around often.
It’s not something I ever expected to find.
But I love you. I’m crazy in love with you, Emilia Taylor.
Crazy enough to share my fears with you.
Crazy enough to want all your tomorrows. Crazy enough to want forever with you.”
She sniffed several times, and her bottom lip wobbled. “You had me at ‘crazy in love,’ because that’s all I needed to hear. That’s all I want. Just you.”
“Well, I came empty-handed, because I know my gifts tend to piss you off.” I chuckled. “And I’m all yours for as long as you can tolerate me.” I scooped her out of her chair and sat down as I settled her on my lap.
She placed a hand on each side of my face.
“I have a high pain tolerance.” She chuckled. “I’m in for the long haul.”
“You think so?”
“I mean, assuming you don’t go find me a home and a job on the other side of the country again, I think I’m all in.”
Yeah, we definitely needed to discuss that, but not now.
“I’m all in, too, angel. It just took me some time to admit how fucked up I am.” I tangled my fingers in her silky hair.
“I would wait forever for you, Bridger Chadwick,” she whispered.
And I tugged her head closer and kissed her.
Because Emilia Taylor was my reason.
My reason to be a better man.
My reason to face my fears.
My reason to want more.
I’d found my reason, and I was never letting go.