Chapter 37
Darius
My dad’s home office is full of people I’ve never met before.
His crisis team in action. I sit in the middle of it all in front of his desk, legs crossed, arms resting on my lap.
There’s a cacophony of voices filling the room, and I only make out snippets of what’s happening.
The short of it is that my dad is in a lot of trouble – as we expected.
He’s being investigated by multiple government agencies working together on his case, and it’s likely that he will be arrested in the coming weeks.
While he is the founder of the company and holds the majority of the shares, there are other directors who sit alongside him, and they’ve decided that it’s in the best interests of the company and the remaining shareholders that he is removed as CEO.
He has also had to hand over his passport and, given he committed fraud to benefit and grow the business, there is a possibility that his actions will have far-reaching consequences for TS Investments.
I’m trying hard not to feel guilty about the part I played in all of this, because it’s not on me.
Not even a little bit. And my rational mind knows that.
The inkling of guilt inside me quickly morphs into anger.
The same anger that’s been bouncing around inside me for the past two days.
I’m staring out the window, forgetting why I was even called here, when I hear my name among the voices. I focus my attention on my father, who is standing on the opposite side of his desk, talking to Clive.
I catch the tail end of the conversation. “Most of my accounts have already been frozen and my assets seized,” my father admits.
Clive nods, flicking through a folder of paperwork in his hand. “Darius’s penthouse is in his name and has no ties to you or TS Investments. They can’t touch that. Nor can they touch this house, which is in your wife’s name.”
“Good. That’s good.” My father’s eyes meet mine. “It’s going to be okay, Darius.”
I shrug. I don’t really care about all this.
We can sell the penthouse if we need to.
I used to love it, but at the end of the day, it’s just concrete and pretty paint.
The memories it holds though… I shake them away.
I won’t think about those – him – right now.
I’m being petty, I know it, but so what?
I think I deserve a moment to stew in my anger and annoyance after all of this.
And stewing is exactly what I’ve been doing since I left the hospital.
It’s a foreign feeling that I hate, because it’s not me. Or not the me I was before all of this.
Crossing my arms, I tuck my broken wrist – now secured in a blue cast – against my chest.
“Unfortunately,” Clive starts, looking at me and then my dad, “the allowance you were sending Darius each month will no longer be available.”
My dad frowns, opening his mouth to speak, but I lift my hand to stop him. “That’s fine.” I stand, stepping back and putting space between me and the man who raised me. “Is that all? Can I go now?”
“I’m sorry about all this,” my father repeats for the hundredth time, like that five letter word can fix all his wrongs. The real world doesn’t work like that. Sometimes the real world really fucking sucks.
“So you’ve said,” I snap.
He dips his head, not meeting my eyes. I’m grateful that he put an end to all the fuckery with Floyd, but I never would have been in that situation in the first place, if not for him.
I love him – I always will – but after the A&E doctors examined me and I’d given my statement to the police, I had a moment to reflect on the past few months, and my entire life.
It was then, under the relief of painkillers for my horribly bruised ribs and broken wrist, I realised how bloody angry I was.
Dad wants my forgiveness, but it’s not on offer right now, maybe not ever.
“One more matter, Darius,” Clive interrupts, holding a folder out towards me.
I take it, flip it open and read the contents.
“These are the papers to start the process of an annulment from Mr Hastings. Because your marriage was entered into under duress, we don’t foresee any delays in getting this completed.
Floyd has been arrested and will be charged for the blackmail and the assault on both you and Mr Cross. ”
“Okay,” I reply. “Where do I sign?”
Clive runs through the paperwork with me and once we’re done, I turn and walk out of the office and my stepmum’s house without so much as a goodbye.
It’s mid-morning, and I don’t have a shift at the coffee shop until later in the week. I suppose I need to consider taking on more shifts now, or finding another job. I push the idea aside for another day, then cut through the park until the dog shelter is in front of me.
The receptionist, Joanie, beams when I enter, before her eyes catch on my cast. I haven’t been in since all the shit with Floyd started – no one here even knows I got married, and I want to keep it that way.
Thankfully, she doesn’t enquire about my injury, just greets me with her usual pleasantries while I sign in as a volunteer on the touch screen attached to her desk.
“A new greyhound came in last night,” Joanie says. “She was left on the side of the motorway – we suspect she’s another ex-racing dog. The vet checked her over this morning, and she’s in good health. Do you want to take her out for a walk?”
“Poor pup. Yeah, I’ll do that.”
Joanie tells me which kennel the dog, Sunny, is sleeping in and I walk down the long corridor, to the sound of yapping and paws on concrete, until I find her. She’s a small blue, with a shiny grey coat and white fur around her muzzle.
“Hello, pup.” Moving slowly so as not to startle her, I open her kennel and walk inside, holding out my hand.
She takes a tentative step forward and licks my fingers.
“Want to go for a walk?” At my question, Sunny’s deep brown eyes meet mine and she wags her tail.
The kind of wag that is so full of excitement, it shakes her entire body.
I love her immediately. “Okay, let’s do this! ”
Once she has a harness on, I attach the lead and walk through the enclosed garden, where a pack of dogs are chasing a ball with some of the other volunteers. I wave my cast covered hand in greeting, then exit through the back gate with Sunny trotting happily at my side.
The charity is located a few roads over from a large park with a gravel path that weaves through trees and comes out at a large fountain.
It’s warm out, and the park is busy for a weekday morning, so we pass several other dogs, kids on scooters and mothers with strollers as we meander down the shaded path.
Sunny stops to sniff patches of grass, and tree trunks, which means our walk is slow, but she’s happy and though happy isn’t how I would describe myself, I’m content for the moment.
We loop around the fountain, following the path on the other side in the opposite direction.
There’s a row of benches set slightly off the gravel, and I lead Sunny over to them, then sit down.
She rests her head on my knees, studying me with deep, soulful brown eyes.
Taking my phone from my pocket, I snap a photo of her and go to send it to Oliver, pausing before I hit send. His last two messages nearly broke me – and I haven’t found the words to reply. Not when I’m feeling so raw from everything that happened. Scrolling up, I read them again.
Ollie: I’m sorry I went behind your back, but not sorry for what happened after. I hope you can forgive me, but if you can’t just know that loving you has been the best part of my life. Thank you for loving me back.
Ollie: Did I ruin us?
Blinking to clear the burn in my eyes, I close my phone and shove it back in my pocket. He didn’t. I still love him – more than I ever have – but it’s tainted by this anger that’s gnawing at me – anger I do not know how to force away.
If I was giving anyone else advice, I’d tell them to talk it out.
I’d say that the silence and distance are doing more harm than good.
But I’m struggling to take my own advice.
The physical and emotional toll the entire situation took on me has made it difficult to think clearly – like all my thoughts and feelings are a big jumbled mess.
A mess I have decided to sort out alone.
Relationships are not a balanced scale. Lean on him.
“Ugh,” I sigh, getting annoyed at the thought because I know it’s right. “What should I do, pup?”
Sunny blinks back at me, moving to nuzzle her head at my pocket where she knows I have treats. I chuckle at her insistence, then give her two, which she swallows with gusto.
Melancholy settles in my bones as I stand and lead Sunny back to the shelter.
I would usually walk a few other dogs when I’m in, but today I feel too emotionally drained to do even that.
So, I return to Caiden and Jamie’s flat – where I’ve been sleeping on their sofa since leaving A&E two days ago.
My penthouse is too empty and, if I’m honest with myself, the only place I want to be is back in Ollie’s bed.
Because that’s the only place that truly feels like home.
Sitting crossed-legged on Caiden’s sofa, Ford curls up on my lap and I stroke him, setting off a loud purr. Animals are great. They’re not complicated. They give love and all they ask for in return is the same.
Maybe I should get a pet. A dog like Sunny, or a cat like Ford.
Shortly after five, Caiden walks in dressed in cargo trousers and the polo top bearing the logo of the landscaping company he works for. I’m watching a home renovations show, which I pause when he sits down next to me. His cat abandoning my lap in favour of his owner.
“I’m getting a cat,” I tell him, kicking my legs out in front of me, to rest on the coffee table. “Or a dog. Maybe both.”
He eyes me, dark hair covering his forehead.
“I take it you still haven’t called Oliver back?” he asks, ignoring my announcement.
I shake my head, then rest it on his shoulder.
“I have to get a job.”
“You already have one,” he replies.
“A full-time job. I’m cut off.”
“Is that why you’re upset?”
“No. I’m not upset. I’m…angry and sad. Angry-sad.”
Caiden chuckles and I lift my head to scowl at him, before settling it back on his shoulder.
“Life’s too short to be angry-sad, babe. Trust me. Take the time you have with the people you love before it’s gone.” My chest aches, and I rub a fist over my sternum. I know he’s speaking from experience and my heart breaks for him.
“I don’t think I can forgive my father. Not just for the blackmail, but for all of it. He raised me to be honourable and trustworthy, and yet he was committing these crimes all along.”
Caiden ruffles a hand in my unwashed hair. “You don’t have to forgive him. Doesn’t mean you don’t love him. But what about Ollie?”
I shrug.
“He’s sad too, you know?” Caiden adds. “I know you wanted to handle the whole Floyd situation on your own, and that’s why you’re angry at Ollie. But I’m glad he did what he did. Where would things be now if Oliver hadn’t gone to confront Floyd, or called your dad?”
I don’t honestly know. I’d like to think I would have called it quits on my own, but I can’t be too sure.
I was so adamant I wouldn’t fail my father, no matter what it cost me.
It’s only now, when I’m looking in like an outsider, that I know it was never my job to protect him.
It was his job as a parent to protect me, and he is the one who failed.
“Sometimes being part of a couple means letting the other person take the reins. Even if you think you should steer the horse,” Caiden says.
I grin, biting back a laugh. “That was bad. You need to work on your metaphors.”
“It sounded better in my head.”
“Oliver thinks he ruined us,” I admit.
“You’ve ignored him for two days. What do you expect him to think? Did he ruin things?”
“No.”
“Then stop moping and go tell him. Oliver chose to put your safety above everything else. He had to have known you would be pissed at him, and yet he did it, anyway.”
Of course he did, because he has since the day we met. Put me first. Loved me.
He chose me. Fuck. How did I not see that?
I slap a hand over my face, groaning. “Ugh, I’m a terrible person and an even worse boyfriend.”
Caiden chuckles, low and warm, as he wraps me in a side hug.
“You’re not. You’ve had a hard few months and a really shit, emotion fuelled forty-eight hours. No one can blame you for feeling the way you do. But it’s time to move forward, D.” Caiden drops his arm from around me, jumps up and kicks my ankle – not hard, but enough to sting.
“Ow! What the hell, Cade?”
He smiles. “I once sat in this exact spot and you kicked me and told me ‘enough is enough’, so now I’m doing the same. Get off the sofa, babe.”
I throw my head back, looking up at the ceiling.
“I fell in love with Oliver on this sofa.”
Caiden laughs, reaching out a hand for me. Sliding my palm into his, I let him pull me to my feet. “I won’t tell you what I’ve done on this sofa.”
I laugh, the feeling settling happily in my bones, and for the first time in forty-eight hours I’m certain everything is going to be okay.