Chapter 21
Twenty-One
CULLEN
The last thing I expected to see when I opened my door tonight was Nardi. But as I follow her through my cold, dark house like a puppy with its newly returned owner, it strikes me that I’d been waiting for her.
Some foolish part of me had hoped I’d be able to see her again, one more time, before I disappear from her life completely.
The shock of actually having that wish come true makes rational thought impossible.
It’s why I direct her to my office.
Why I allow her to rummage around my desk.
Why I show her the pens she so frantically demands to get her hands on.
But I finally wake from my stupor when Nardi holds up the marriage registration form with her signature on it.
For a moment, I can only stare at that piece of paper as if I’ve forgotten to read. And then I realize what she’s done and a quiet despair settles on me.
I try to snatch the marriage form away from Nardi, but she twists it behind her back, hiding it from me.
“The offer is no longer valid,” I growl.
“Unfortunately, your signature is already here,” she says. “So you can’t change your mind.”
I step forward. “Go home, Nardi.”
“No thanks,” she answers breezily, as if I offered her a refreshment.
“What part of the words ‘go home’ sounded like a suggestion to you?” I growl.
“You’re very good at being cold and unwelcoming, Cullen.” Her lips curl up in a prim smile. “I’ll give you that.”
“Did you forget what I told you in the car on Saturday?”
“Of course not. Who could forget words like ‘I’m going to die in three weeks’?” Her eyes land on my monitor that’s running a visual feed of the simulation. “Wow. Is that a plane’s cockpit?”
“I wasn’t lying to you, Nardi.” I exhale. “What I have isn’t curable.”
“I know.” She folds the marriage registration form up and slips it into her pocket. Turning her attention away from my office, she wanders around the living room. “Ashley wasn’t kidding. This place is huge .”
Stunned, I watch her casually make her way into my kitchen, open my refrigerator and exclaim over how neatly my produce is arranged.
Is she really not leaving?
Totally befuddled and fighting back the urge to wrap my arms around her, I storm after the crazy woman. My hand flattens on the refrigerator door and I slam it shut.
She jumps back and shoots me with an annoyed look.
I ignore it. “Go home.”
“I can’t.” She slides a finger over the granite island counter top. “I ran away from home.”
My jaw drops.
“I know right.” She laughs softly. “I skipped my rebellious teenager phase, so it looks like I’m having one now. Is your bedroom upstairs?”
I step into her way and she stops just short of bumping into me. Glaring down at her with a stormy expression, I warn her, “You’re not staying over.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to go. But you knew that already.”
I arch a brow.
She smiles indulgently. “Remember? You told Sunny to be my friend because all I do is work and take care of Josiah and I have no social life.”
I flinch. How did she find out about that?
“Ooh! That staircase is so pretty.” She skips to the wooden staircase and runs her hands over the grooves of the design.
The sight of her pretty smile melts my heart, but I steel myself against her charm.
There’s a reason I had my staff return to an online-only workplace. A reason I told Sara to clear out HQ and rent out the office space. A reason I decided to run away.
If I back out on it now, Nardi’s the one who gets hurt.
“Your bedroom’s probably not upstairs,” Nardi is saying, as she taps her mouth in thought. “After seeing you struggle up to my apartment, I don’t think you’d like to walk up and down these stairs every day.”
“Nardi—”
She interrupts me with a chirpy voice. “You must have a guest room down here. Is it this way?”
I grab her hand and spin her around. Pressing her into the staircase railing, I loom over her with a dark glower.
Her brown eyes widen and her plump lips part. The urge to kiss her is so overwhelming that I force my gaze on her forehead instead.
“Didn’t you see the moving sign on Cullen Tech?” I bark.
She nods slowly. “I did.”
“Don’t you understand what it means?”
“No, you’ll have to explain it to me,” she whispers.
“I was hoping I could do this quietly and without hurting your feelings, but you’re being stubborn, so I have no choice.” I stare down at her with as cold an expression as I can muster. “I don’t want to see you again.”
She tilts her head to the side.
“You called me a liar and a coward and you’re right.” I back away from her. “I asked you to hate me, Nardi, because I don’t want to bear the responsibility of your feelings. Now that it’s clear that you don’t hate me anymore, I’m no longer interested in seeing you.”
Each word tastes like poison that infects me instead of her. It takes every scrap of resolve in me to continue glaring at her when my heart screams for me to give her a hug and never let go.
I take another step back.
It’s still not enough space. I can smell the shampoo in her hair and the fragrance of something uniquely Nardi.
“You said you were going to love me until your last heartbeat,” Nardi pointed out. “Did you not mean it?”
A lump forms in my throat.
But I lie to her, “I was caught up in a moment, but that moment is over.”
She purses her lips thoughtfully.
With a resigned sigh, I hold my hand out. “Give the marriage papers to me.”
“No.”
“We’re not going to get married,” I say firmly. The words burn, but I don’t take them back. They must be said. “It was wrong of me to ask you to do that. It was wrong of me to mess with your life.”
“Wrong by your definition. Not mine.”
I tilt my head to the side, my eyebrows scrunched.
Nardi smiles sadly. “I’m aware that my mom went to visit you sometime over the past few days. I know she told you to crawl off and die anywhere other than in front of me.”
“That’s not what she said.” I frown.
“But that was the gist of it.” Nardi struts away and tosses the words over her shoulder as she goes, “Do you have an extra toothbrush? I didn’t bring any.”
A stunned breath escapes my lips. I knew Nardi was stubborn, but I didn’t realize she was this stubborn.
I chase her down, realizing that snarling won’t work. Instead, I try to reason with her. “Your mom is only trying to protect you. And she’s right. You and I are better off parting ways now than later.”
“Is it my mom’s name on the marriage certificate?” Nardi pauses just before pushing my bedroom door open. Her eyes are thrown into shadows, but I can sense the sarcasm when she says, “Because you’re having tons of important discussions with a woman who’s not married to you. That doesn’t make sense to me.”
“We’re not getting married,” I grumble.
She ignores me and pushes the door open, stepping into my room. There’s not much to see. Only a bed, neatly spread. A nightstand. A lamp. A dresser for my clothes.
“I guess you like the minimalist aesthetic,” Nardi says, gesturing to the bare walls. “There’s not even a painting, Cullen.”
Too frustrated to reply, I follow her into my walk in closet that I use as storage space for my in-repair CPU units. I wear the same grey and black T-shirts and jeans every day, so I don’t need so much space for clothes.
Nardi’s eyes widen when she sees all the broken parts. “What is this? A computer graveyard? Oh, look.” Her dismay turns into a wide smile. “Your beanie collection. But why is it in a bin? You should have it hanging out on display. It’ll be easier to decide on which color to wear.”
When she spins around to leave the closet, I block her path. Nardi tilts her head back to meet my eyes. Her eyelashes bounce slowly up and down.
“Leave before I pick you up and throw you out myself,” I warn.
“You’re not going to do that, Cullen,” she whispers, stepping into me.
I shuffle back as warning signs flash through my mind.
Nardi glides forward, her brown skin glowing and her eyes dropping to half-mast. I hear the thundering of my heart loudly in my ears.
“I saw the documents you left for me. And I’m pretty sure this property agreement was in there as well.” She advances slowly, her hips swaying from side to side.
My throat dry, I take another step back, but my calves hit the bed frame and I lose my balance. The world tilts as gravity pulls on me. I land on the bed, barely managing to prop myself up on my elbows.
The mattress bounces again as Nardi gets on the bed too. She pushes my shoulders so I tip all the way back. I’m flat out and staring at the ceiling. A moment later, she crawls over me.
I try to roll away, but she slams one hand on the pillow next to my face.
Her breath teases my cheek.
A lock of her dark hair slides down her shoulder and dangles over my lips.
My body throbs in need of her.
I grit my teeth and force my hands to stay like magnets at my sides as Nardi traces her finger across my clenching jaw.
“The marriage certificate wasn’t the only document I signed just now. As of two seconds ago, this is my house.” Her smile is too sultry and too beguiling. I turn my face away, but she uses her finger to draw my head back to her. “You should be begging me to let you stay.”
My nostrils flare because she’s right. I did transfer the deed and the only thing left was her signature. At the time, it seemed like a good idea as I wanted to ensure there were no estate taxes or other complications to keep her and Josiah from accessing the property.
Now, though, I’m wishing I’d left that for the executor of my estate to worry about.
“Fine,” I growl.
Nardi’s eyes widen as I fling her, not-so-gently, off me. Her feet wiggle in the air before she lands hard on the mattress.
“You can stay here.” I stand, ignoring her wide-eyed stare stabbing into my back. “ I’ll leave.”
I move to the dresser and collect the items I’ll need—a T-shirt, underwear, jeans, socks, and a charger.
“Cullen,” Nardi says in a small voice.
I stop as if my body’s on puppet strings and she’s the puppeteer.
“I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Spinning, I find her sitting on the bed, both hands wrapped around her waist as if she’s giving herself a hug.
Don’t fall for it, Cullen. You need to make a clean break now. You’re not strong enough to resist her.
Resolutely, I march around to the nightstand, open the drawer and take out my medication.
Nardi’s eyes widen. “Are you really leaving?”
I slam the drawer shut without answering and carry all my things to the door. “I’ll go upstairs. The remote for the air conditioner is by the bathroom door. I keep the new toothbrushes in the laundry room with the other items Ashley buys in bulk.”
I can tell that Nardi’s smiling in victory behind me, but I don’t turn around to confirm it. I’m too busy making a break down the hallway.
My feet thud on the steps and Nardi’s voice calls from below, “You can slow down, Cullen. No one’s chasing you. I’m not the Big Bad Wolf.”
I grunt, continuing at my urgent speed. If I stop for a second, I’ll change directions, return to my bedroom and join her in bed.
And no matter how much I want her, no matter how much she pleads, I will not allow myself to do that.
Sleep is impossible with Nardi right downstairs. I debate taking the pills my doctor prescribed for my insomnia, but I decide against it. I have an early meeting with my lawyers and then a strategy meeting with Asad, Dr. Young, and Dare right after.
I’ll need my head to be clear and the sleeping pills always make me feel slow and muddled.
It doesn’t surprise me when dawn comes and I haven’t slept a wink.
Rather than lie in bed with my eyes closed, fooling myself into thinking I can ‘rest’ for a few more minutes, I get right up and shower.
After, I reach for my beanie and I realize I didn’t take one out of the bedroom when I left yesterday. Rookie mistake. Though, in my defense, I’m surprised I was able to function at all after Nardi Davis threw me on the bed and ran her fingers down my face.
The fact that I wasn’t rolling her over and positioning myself between her legs immediately is a testament to how badly the medication I’m taking is affecting me.
However, she needs to leave.
Today.
I don’t have much resolve left in me to last another night with her downstairs.
I won’t even last the morning if she keeps acting like she did yesterday.
With a deep breath, I brush my teeth and head downstairs. The house is dark, as it always is. But sunlight fights to creep past the heavy velvet curtains.
I cover my mouth as a yawn overtakes me and pass the hallway that leads to my bedroom. A quick peek at the door is all I allow myself. Nardi is probably still asleep.
After making myself a pot of coffee, I hunker into my old, gaming chair and check on last night’s data. I’m quickly pulled into my work until my phone vibrates a few hours later.
It’s Josiah.
I answer quickly, hoping that nothing is wrong. “Hey, Josiah.”
“Cullen, it’s Nardi’s mom.”
Surprised, I sit straighter in my seat. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you but… is Nardi there?”
I swing my chair around so I can look down the hallway to my bedroom. “Yes.”
Mrs. Davis sighs in relief. “That gyal .” Her Belizean accent is so thick that it’s hard to understand her. “She di tiad me.”
I piece together that Mrs. Davis is complaining about Nardi’s behavior. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll send her back home as quickly as possible. I told her she could only stay the night.”
“No, don’t do that.”
Surprise slackens my jaw. “D-don’t?”
“Nardi loves a challenge. The more you resist her, the more she’ll dig her heels in and stay.”
I lean back, too shocked to speak.
“Why do you think she was so enamored by Malcolm? She thought they had this grand, epic love story because he was moving away. If he’d stayed in Belize, they would have naturally grown apart, but Nardi saw every obstacle as a reason to hold on tighter.”
I run my teeth over my bottom lip. After last night, I totally believe that.
Mrs. Davis sighs. “If you’re to have any hope of sending her on her way, you’ll just have to let her do what she wants until she gets tired of it.”
“Let her…” I jolt. “You mean let her stay here?”
“I don’t like it any more than you do,” Mrs. Davis says.
Oh-ho, she’s very wrong. I like it a whole lot. I like it in ways I could never discuss with Nardi’s mother.
“Tell her not to worry about Josiah. I’ll take him to school and pick him up in the evenings.”
“Okay,” I mumble, still in disbelief.
There’s a pause and then Mrs. Davis says, “Since things have turned out like this, all we can do is try to minimize the damage.”
“What exactly does that mean?” I wonder.
“It means take care of my baby, Cullen.”
My shoulders straighten as I hear the warning behind those words.
Mrs. Davis hangs up and I stare at my cell phone long after it goes dark, wondering how I got here. It tore me up to make the decision to never see Nardi again. But it was a choice I intended to maintain for her sake.
Nardi’s stubbornness won’t lead to anything good. How do I navigate this in a way that won’t damage her further?
The door to my bedroom opens and closes softly. Every cell in my body strains to look at Nardi, but I force myself to continue typing on the computer as if I don’t hear her moving around.
Her footsteps patter closer and my breath quickens. At this point, I have no idea what I’m typing. My brain has deleted every computational synapse.
“It’s freezing in here,” Nardi says from close by.
“You can adjust the thermostat.”
“Can you show me how?” she asks.
I woodenly get up, walk to the thermostat, raise it and then march back to my chair, giving her a wide berth.
“Thanks, Cullen,” Nardi says sweetly.
I remain quiet, eyes glued to the monitor as if my life depends on it.
A moment later, my chair dips slightly to the left and Nardi’s sweet fragrance fills the air. “What are you doing?”
With her leaning on my rickety chair, I can’t not look at her.
But when I twist my head around to take her in, I really wish I hadn’t. Nardi’s wearing one of my T-shirts and the hem falls around mid-thigh, leaving all of her legs bare. My eyes greedily drink in the sight of my shirt on her. Satisfaction pumps through my veins. The caveman side of me thumps his chest possessively. My T-shirt. My girl.
I’m going insane.
Nardi sees me looking and smiles. “I didn’t bring a nightshirt, so I used yours. It was really comfortable.”
I inhale deeply and think about foundational principles of programming.
Single responsibility:A class should have a single, well-defined responsibility or function.
“It’s super cute on me, right?” Nardi steps back and spins in the T-shirt. The higher the hem goes, the higher my certainty that she’s not wearing shorts under that T-shirt becomes.
My fingers dig into the handle of the chair.
Dependency inversion principle:Depend on abstractions instead of implementations.
Nardi pouts. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
“When are you leaving?” I demand tightly.
“For work? Or from your house?”
“Both,” I spit through gritted teeth.
“I’m quitting my job,” Nardi says.
I startle and the chair lurches backward. “What?”
“Technically, I’m going to hand in my resignation,” she explains.
“Why?”
“Why?” She pushes out her lips in contemplation. “Because it’s always been my dream to cook for a living, but I couldn’t fully take the risk of running my own business when I had Josiah’s school fees and rent to pay. Now that you’ve basically taken care of Josiah’s future and I don’t have to stay at my job, I want to give running my own business a go.”
The decision feels so sudden that I can’t wipe the shock from my face.
Nardi laughs softly. “Why are you so surprised? You knew I listened to business podcasts.”
“But listening to business podcasts and running your own business are two very different things.”
Nardi shrugs. “You’re so awkward and brusque with people, but you still managed to build a million-dollar company,” she teases. “How hard can it be?” Moving away, she heads to the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I’ll make breakfast.”
“You didn’t answer my second question,” I call.
“Which was?” She opens the refrigerator.
“When are you going home?”
“I don’t know,” she answers casually.
“Your mom called this morning.”
Nardi freezes, staring unseeingly into the stainless steel fridge.
I clear my throat. “She said not to worry about Josiah. That she’d take him to and from school.”
Nardi suddenly slams the door shut and plants her hands on her hips. “Oh, that’s smooth.”
I blink. “What is?”
“Mom’s playing the victim card.” She roughly opens my cupboard, looking for something. “It’s classic reverse psychology.”
“Is she?” I frown.
“She thinks, by telling me that, I’ll feel bad and rush back.” Nardi shakes her head. “Well, I won’t. I’ve made my decision.”
Was that what Mrs. Davis intended? “I didn’t get that impression at all. It felt like she was giving you space to come back on your own time.”
Nardi slams the cupboard door and I jump. But, when she turns to me, it’s with a sickly-sweet smile. “I’ve changed my mind about cooking. Let’s have cereal with almond milk for breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.” I swerve back to my computer.
She shrugs. “More for me.”
I do my best to ignore her as Nardi pours out cereal, climbs on a bar stool and eats while scrolling on her phone.
Eventually, I manage to get my brain back into gear for my meeting with the lawyers. A few minutes before the call, Nardi pokes her head into my office.
“Cullen, is there a reason you keep those windows covered? Does the light give you a headache or something?”
“Not really.”
“Okay then.” She disappears as quickly as she appeared.
I want to follow her, but I force myself to stay seated and slip my headphones on in preparation for the call instead.
The moment the lawyers appear on my monitor, I know they don’t have good news.
“I’m sorry, Cullen. The injunction fell through. I’m afraid you’ll have to take this to court.”
A headache brews and I really wish I’d taken Nardi up on that offer of having breakfast. Not sleeping and not eating is an awful combination.
“This isn’t the results I was looking for,” I say harshly.
“We have all the evidence we need to prove you own the PLP mainframe. The worst they can do is drag it out in court.”
“Exactly,” I snap. “I don’t have time for a long, drawn-out court case.”
The lawyers remain quiet.
“Cullen,” a voice whispers.
I look up and find Nardi standing in the doorway. She’s dressed in yesterday’s clothes and has her purse slung over her shoulder. Quietly, she gestures to the door.
The sight of her untangles the knot in my chest and I nod goodbye.
She smiles brightly and waves before turning to leave.
My mind clearer than before, I plant my fingers together on the table. “Would it be faster to get an international patent?”
“A patent is a good idea,” the lawyer murmurs, “but it will take even longer than going to court. Especially when you consider the process of international patent examination.”
I’m well aware of how arduous getting a patent is. I’ve done it several times and, after each time, I swore it would be my last.
“I need a way to solve this. Quickly,” I rasp. “I don’t want Cullen Tech’s progress slowed down by a lawsuit.”
“There is another option.”
“What other option?” I demand.
“An offer arrived early this morning.”
I wait, my back muscles tense.
A collaboration. Between the company who sued you and Cullen Tech.”
My eyes widen. “Those bastards want to buy my program?”
“It’s an option.”
“It’s joining hands with the enemy,” I spit.
“You asked for a fast resolution. This is what you’ve got. You either go to court and hand over the documents there or you file a patent and release the documents there instead. It’s only a matter of time before the mainframe is exposed in totality. When that happens, you won’t get any reward for it. At least this way, you’ll get paid. Think about it.”
“Yeah.” I end the video call and reach for my water.
The cup is empty.
Pushing out of my chair with a groan, I shuffle to the kitchen. To my surprise, I see a plate of toast, a bowl of sliced papayas and a jam bottle nestled together on the counter. There’s also a note on a yellow sticky pad.
I lift the note and read Nardi’s rushed handwriting.
Make sure you eat something. I’ll ask if you did when I come home later.
There’s a smiley face beneath it and it’s simply signed ‘Nardi’.
I stare at the note for a long time, my eyes lingering on the phrase ‘come home’. It feels so right to read that and to know that Nardi’s coming home to me tonight.
No, I shouldn’t get used to this. I’m kicking her out as soon as possible.
Taking a seat around the counter, I bite into the toast and lick the jam from my fingers.
I don’t even like toast, but this is delicious.
After polishing off the food, I start feeling extremely hot and move toward the thermostat to bring the temperature down. On my way, I notice that the velvet curtains have been tampered with.
Buckets and buckets of sunshine blast through the floor-to-ceiling windows, as if the sun finally has access to me and is trying to make up for lost time. I lift my hand to shade my eyes from the glare. Nardi must have pulled back my black-out curtains.
With a sigh, I walk over to the curtains, intending to put them back over the windows. But there’s a sticky note next to the pulley mechanism. This one, too, is Nardi’s hand writing.
Leave the curtains up, Cullen. Your house is so pretty, but it needs some more light.
Ps. I’ll be really sad if I come home later and they’re drawn.
I shake my head as another patient smile tugs at my lips. How many of these notes did she leave?
After refilling my water, I move carefully back to the office, my eyes peeled for more notes but there aren’t any that I can find.
Trying not to think about Nardi, I work in silence for the remainder of the afternoon until my call with Asad, Dr. Young, and Sullivan. We discuss the five year, ten year and twenty-five year plans for the company.
I debate mentioning selling Cullen Tech but decide against it. I still want more time to process the offer.
Around three pm, Nardi texts me.
NARDI: Have you eaten lunch yet?
ME: Have you decided to move home yet?
NARDI: I have a confession to make.
ME: What did you do, Nardi?
NARDI: I stole your birth certificate and driver’s license so I could register our marriage.
Stunned, I shoot out of my chair and rush to my bedroom. The bed is spread neatly and nothing looks out of place. However, I storm straight into the closet and to the safe where I keep my important documents.
My phone buzzes.
NARDI: Just kidding. Whether we have a ceremony or not doesn’t bother me as long as I can be with you.
I grit my teeth and call Nardi.
She answers on the first ring, “Hi, husband.”
“Where are you?”
“At work. Why? Do you miss me?”
“About as much as you miss your sprained wrist.”
She laughs. “Being sarcastic isn’t going to keep me away, Cullen.”
“What will?”
“I don’t know? Pest control?”
“You have a very bizarre sense of humor.”
“That’s true, and I normally don’t let anyone see it, but since you’re my husband and all?—”
“I let you stay for one night,” I warn her. “But I meant it when I said I’m no longer interested in you.”
“For a man who’s not interested, you had a nice ole time checking me out in your T-shirt,” she says, non-plussed.
I cough. “Go home and make up with your mother. Take it from me. You don’t know how much time you have left with her. Don’t spend that precious time fighting.”
“Trying to get rid of me, Cullen?”
“And failing, obviously.”
She laughs loudly. “You’re so cute. I wish I could see your face right now.”
“You can picture a frown.”
“Still cute. You’re like a grumpy hedgehog. All your little spikes are out.”
I rub my hand over my spiky hair. This woman will be the death of me.
“I have a question,” Nardi says.
“What?”
“Can I really use those credit cards you gave me?”
“Yes.”
“Any purchase? No matter the amount?”
“Yes,” I say evenly.
“But what if you don’t like what I bought?”
“I don’t care.”
“But it’s still your money.”
“I can’t take money with me when I’m dead,” I tell her, intentionally trying to provoke a reaction.
“That’s true.” She pauses. “‘Kay, thanks. See you later.”
The dial tone rings in my ear.
What a strange, strange woman.
Still puzzled, I open the fridge and choose one of the pre-packed lunches Ashley stocks for me. The meal is delicious, but I find myself wanting to eat Nardi’s toast again.
After washing the dishes and wiping down the counters, I settle in front of the computer to do more work when my phone dings with a bank notification.
Someone just spent four figures at a luxury store.
A moment later, my phone rings with a message from Nardi.
It’s a picture of her smooching a fancy shopping bag.
NARDI: I’m taking your advice to make up with my mother. So I bought her a Birkin just because. Then I bought one for myself. Regret giving me your card yet?
ME: Why would I regret it?
NARDI: If you do, it means you want to live. Money means a lot to the living.
I swipe my thumb over her picture, feeling my blood pounding in my veins.
The feeling rising inside me is definitely not regret. It’s more of the ‘I’ll probably need to take a cold shower variety’.
ME: Was this your attempt at punishing me for dying?
NARDI: That depends. Did it work?
I smile.
Money has never been a driver for me. The digital zeroes had nowhere to go, no higher purpose outside of my survival, some investments, and a few carefully selected charities.
But now, what was once meaningless allows Nardi to dress how she wants, walk into any store she wants, and have whatever she desires.
Heat roars in my veins.
I didn’t realize Nardi spending my money was a turn-on, but it’s never too late to learn something new.
Adjusting my pants, I take a deep breath, settle my raging hormones, and then send back a text.
ME: Is that all you got? Next time, add another zero to the bill.