Chapter 8
ADAM
After we'd slept together, I’d booked Elowen on my private flight back to the States instead of her original commercial flight. That decision has become a huge fucking mistake.
She just stares out at the endless expanse of clouds, a universe away from the woman who had shattered in my arms, laughed with me, made me fall fucking in love with her before going cold as ice.
We shake hands once we land. Shake fucking hands.
Elowen will be receiving the direct deposit for her work in Switzerland tonight, and I’ll be left feeling like a damn fool.
I make it home, even though I don’t remember how.
My penthouse feels like a mausoleum, a morbid thought for a man who buried a wife less than a year ago, but it’s the truth.
I’d sold the family home when Celeste passed, and I’d had this place furnished by a designer.
I’d never minded the minimalist look of it until now, when I’m aching for warmth of some kind, any kind.
Work, which has always been my anchor, the one thing that makes sense, feels meaningless.
I sit in board meetings, look at spreadsheets, and think of Elowen.
A week after we return, Camille finds me in my office, staring out at the city.
"You look like hell.” She’s no nonsense, just like me. “Oliver called me. Said you’re falling apart.”
"I'm fine.”
"Liar," she comes to stand beside me, her gaze following mine out the window. "You haven't been fine since the day I arrived in France…when Elowen was standing next to you.”
I flinch. "It's…complicated."
"No, it's not," she counters. "Dad. Come on. I’m a grown woman. Obviously the engagement thing was fake, spur-of-the-moment, just like you explained to me, but something really did happen between you two, right? Talk to me.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s over.”
"Why?" she presses, "What happened?"
I let out a long, ragged breath. “Cam, please, don’t make me explain what an asshole I am. Your mother?—“
“Told me about the…circumstances of your marriage a long time ago. About how it was a mutual thing.” Her voice goes softer. “I don’t think you’re an asshole. You were both great parents. You were both happy. But it’s different with Elowen, isn’t it?”
I’m shocked, but not for long. Of course Celeste would have made this easy for me and talked to Camille. She was a damn good woman, and an even better mother. “Yeah. It’s different. But she doesn’t think it’s real.”
Cam has a million questions, and I try to answer them all without going into how fiery and physical my connection became with Elowen. And how fast it escalated. In the end, Camille looks even more determined than before.
"So you need to make it real in her eyes. She’s doubting herself. She’s doubting you. Fight for her!"
I sink into the chair behind my desk. “How do our lives fit together, though? She doesn’t want this lifestyle—“ I motion to the office around me. “She doesn’t want this world.” I swivel my chair around. Waving my arms, “and, look, I don’t blame her.”
Camille is quiet for a long moment, then she walks around the desk, her hands resting on my shoulders.
"Do you still want it, Dad? Or do you want her?"
The answer is easy. “Both.”
Camille squats down to my eyeline and looks sternly at me. Right through me. “Her,” I say.
“Then what’s holding you back? You've done your duty. You’ve set your family up for life, you've honored Mom, but you've never done something just for you. You’re allowed to have this, Dad.”
I look up at Camille, my brilliant daughter, fresh out of business school and already so wise for her age. Then I look at the stack of contracts on my desk, the glowing screen of my computer, the city beyond my window, and I know what I have to do.
I reach out and punch my intercom, “Oliver…”
The next morning, I call a meeting of the executive board. I walk into the room, the ruthless CEO they all respect, and what I say to them is as chaotic as detonating a bomb.
I am beginning the process of transferring leadership of Valmonte Global to a new shared leadership model split between Camille and the board. I will remain as chairman to ease the transition, but my responsibilities will drastically decrease. I’m on my way to a new life.
The room is in an uproar, but I feel lighter than I can ever remember feeling. I haven’t even spoken to Elowen; I have no idea where she even is now, but she feels so close to me as I walk out of the boardroom, leaving it all behind. For her…and for me.
Camille runs after me. “Dad…”
I turn to her. “It’s what I want, Camille. Don’t worry, I have a plan. You are more than capable; I know you can do it. And I am always right there with you whenever, if ever you need me.”
“I want you to be happy, Dad. Do what you must do.”
“ I will, sweetheart, always.”