Chapter 34
Helping a very lively, talkative little girl go through her lines temporarily took Olivia’s mind off the meeting she’d had
earlier with Simon and the head of HR.
Briefly she glanced over at Connor, who was clearing up Ellie’s creative mess while also preparing whatever he’d decided to
make them for dinner.
As if aware of her eyes on him, he looked up and gave her a crooked smile. Instantly the butterflies in her stomach began
a frenzy of wing-flapping.
God, for once in her life, she didn’t know what to do.
“Livvy?” Ellie said.
Guiltily she focused back on the lines she was supposed to be reading.
When it was time to eat, they sat around the island in the kitchen, Ellie’s legs dangling from the bar stool as she piled
the chicken fajita mix onto her tortilla wrap. Connor kept the conversation moving as they talked and ate. A typical Monday
night for most families.
Olivia struggled to swallow even a mouthful down her tight throat.
She’d never felt so conflicted, so uncertain of where she saw her life heading.
Nor had her heart ever felt so heavy.
Finally Ellie went up to bed, but not before flinging her arms around Olivia’s neck and sending her already shredded emotions
into a soggy pulp. Tears stung Olivia’s eyes as she watched the pair of them head upstairs.
Time and time again she’d told Connor she didn’t want to hurt him.
Yet the only way not to hurt him was to deny herself the opportunity she’d spent her whole life working toward.
She walked back into the kitchen and began to push plates into the dishwasher. Her heart faltered when she saw the glitter
Connor hadn’t quite managed to mop up.
A pair of strong arms circled her waist from behind, making her jump. “Oh!”
“Talk to me,” he whispered. “I’m driving myself crazy imagining what’s wrong.”
Easier to say it like this, she thought, with her back to him. But that was the coward’s way.
Slowly she turned and looked him in the eye.
“They’ve moved the job to New York.”
One of the many things she loved about Connor was his inability to hide his emotions. When he was happy, his eyes shone. When
he was annoyed, they flashed. When he was turned on, they smoldered. When he was upset, they clouded, like they did now. Only
this was worse, because for a split second, his face seemed to crumple.
Then he lowered his lids, blocking her from reading his thoughts.
When he opened them again, his eyes were guarded. “Is it a permanent move?”
“I asked that.” It felt like her throat was lined with sandpaper. “They said in all likelihood, yes, though of course nothing
in business is ever set in stone.”
He gave a sharp nod. “Then I guess you need to move to New York.” His voice was flat, the muscles in his jaw working overtime.
“But I love you.”
“Thank you.” His eyes swam with emotion and he looked away for a few beats, blinking. When he looked back at her, his expression
was so tender, it made her want to burst into tears. “You warned me right from the start the job was your priority.” His hand
moved to cup her face. “I won’t be the reason you don’t take it. You’ll regret it, regret our life. And that . . .” His voice
started to crack and he swallowed. “That would break me.”
Would she regret it if she didn’t take it? Or would she regret it if she took it and turned her back on this life she’d started
to experience with Connor and with Ellie. A life where she balanced work with spending time with people she loved. “I don’t
know if I can do it.” She meant she didn’t know if she could give him up, but for once he misunderstood her.
“What did you tell my daughter? You can do anything.” He exhaled roughly, touching his forehead to hers. “You’ll be magnificent,
Livvy. Already you’ve smashed through the old-boy network to get this job.” His fingers trailed a gentle path down her cheek.
“Just think what else you can achieve.”
“I could wait, apply for a CIO job with another company based in London.”
His eyes searched hers. “How long would that take? How would you feel when Stuart goes to New York in your place? What message
would it send that you weren’t willing to relocate?”
He’d found her raw spot. She’d spent the past fifteen years convincing management and the board that she was a strong, independent
woman focused on her career. Could she really turn around now and tell them she wasn’t going to take the job because she didn’t
want to move away from her boyfriend and his child?
“Have you accepted it?” he asked quietly.
“I said I’d have an answer for them tomorrow, which caused a great deal of eyebrow-raising, but I told them they couldn’t
expect me to agree to move to New York next week without at least some degree of consideration.”
“Next week?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t look at him. The devastation in his voice was hard enough to deal with. If she saw it on his face, there
was a very real possibility she’d burst into noisy, messy tears and embarrass them both. “They’re expanding the New York office
and need the CIO in place as soon as possible. Simon was going to move there short term, but his wife has developed health
issues and needs treatment in the UK, so he wants to hand it over to me as soon as possible.” Her voice broke and she had
to pause, drag in a breath. “The board want me to start from the New York office next week.”
He cursed under his breath and she felt his pain. It was like her heart had been turned inside out. “I don’t know what to
do, Connor.”
“Yeah, I think you do, Livvy. I think you’ve always known.” There was resignation in his voice and an edge of anger but also
hurt. He was trying to hide it, but he was hurting badly, and the knowledge sliced through her. “Are you staying tonight?”
“I’ve not brought anything. I came straight from work.” The words were forced through a throat that felt like she’d swallowed
a brick. “I didn’t think beyond needing to talk to you.”
He smoothed his thumb across her bottom lip, his eyes watching the action as if committing it to memory. “What do you need?”
he asked softly.
“Fresh underwear and a shirt for tomorrow.” Her voice broke and tears rolled freely down her cheeks. “Something to sleep in.”
He wiped at the tears with his thumb. “Go take a shower.” Somber blue eyes met hers. “I’ll find you something to put on and
we can put your clothes in the washing machine.”
Numbly she nodded, grateful for something practical to do, a break from the heavy tension.
When she came out of the shower she found one of Connor’s T-shirts, a pair of boxers, and some blue fleece joggers laid out
on his bed. Of course they were all huge on her, because her boyfriend was a big hunky man.
A big hunky man with a heart of gold.
A man who had every right to be upset, to be angry with her tonight at blowing up their relationship. Yet who’d gone out of
his way to make it as easy as possible for her to walk away from him.
Letting out a sob of anguish she climbed onto the bed and clutched at his T-shirt, inhaling his scent. If taking the job was
the right thing to do, why did she feel so utterly miserable?
He’d kept his emotions in check all evening. Even as his heart had been shattering into a million pieces, Connor had forced
himself to remain calm and give Olivia what she needed, which was an out. A free pass to end their relationship so she could
pursue the career she’d always wanted.
If he’d spent the past few months hoping she’d change her mind about not wanting a husband, not wanting kids, the mistake
was his.
So he’d laid out some clothes for her, picked up the clothes that needed washing, and methodically shoved them into the washing
machine.
Then he’d gone outside and punched his fist into the wall. And, fuck, it had hurt, but it was nothing to the hurt currently
tearing his chest in two.
Now he had to jam his emotions back into their box, walk inside, and pretend she hadn’t just devastated him, that, actually,
though he was sad, his life would carry on, even with the crater-size hole she’d leave behind.
He didn’t know if he was that good an actor.
Just as he was closing the French windows, she stepped into the living room and his heart lurched. Pale face, hair for once
loose around her shoulders. She should have looked ridiculous in his clothes. Instead she looked like everything he’d always
wanted.
Her gaze lifted to his and he noted the telltale red rims around her eyes. He wasn’t the only one upset, but somehow that
didn’t help.
She nodded down to his joggers. “They’re a bit on the large side.”
“Need to get yourself a shorter boyfriend next time.” Her expression crumbled as if he’d hit her. “Fuck, sorry, that was a
shitty thing to say.” He strode over and wrapped her in his arms. “I’m trying to act cool, like I’m not completely devastated
and clueless as to how I can move forward from this. But I will,” he assured her. “And New York isn’t that far. There’s video
calls and things called planes.” If he was ever able to find the money to fly him and Ellie over there.
“A long-distance relationship between us isn’t tenable.” Hazel eyes that shimmered with tears locked into his. “You know that.”
“Maybe, but you could be less honest for once, less direct.” He kissed her to soften his words. “Let a guy live in cloud cuckoo
land for a bit.”
“I’m not saying it for you, I’m saying it for me.” She closed her eyes and leaned into him. “I can’t cling to false hope.
It would be like torture, slowly breaking my spirit. This needs to be a clean break.”
“Fine.” He exhaled heavily, his control hanging by a thread. “But I’ll always be here for you in whatever capacity you need.”
“Oh God, don’t say that.” She sniffed, tears running down her face. “I can’t cope when you’re being nice.”
“How about ‘You’re a coldhearted bitch and you’ve ruined my life.’” He forced a smile. “Better?”
“No. Too close to the mark.” Suddenly her face fell. “What about Ellie? I don’t want her to think I’ve abandoned her, that
I’ve upped and gone without a thought.” She buried her face in her hands, shoulders heaving up and down. “This is awful. I
want to know if she gets the part, I want to see the damn play.”
She was right, hope was dangerous, but he was too weak, too emotionally pummeled, not to cling to it. “Just because it’s a
clean break for you and me doesn’t mean it’s a clean break from us.” He tilted her chin. “Strip away sex and romantic love, it still leaves friendship. We can be friends, Livvy. Long-distance
friends.”
In that moment he convinced himself there would come a time when he could see her on a video call and not want to touch her,
hold her. Not still be hopelessly in love with her.
“Yes, yes.” She heaved out a breath. “That sounds . . . better. We’ll make it work. As friends.”
He eased them both onto the sofa, maneuvered her so she was sitting in his lap. “But tonight, we’re more than friends,” he
murmured, kissing across her collarbone, revealed by the neck of his T-shirt that was way too big on her. “Tonight I want
to make out with my girlfriend on the sofa. And then make love to her in my bed.” For the last time.
Fuck, he didn’t know if he could do this.
He was so lost in his wretched thoughts, it took him a moment to realize she was staring at his hand. “Connor? What happened?”
He glanced down to where her fingers rubbed gentle circles over his grazed knuckles. “Just scraped my hand. I’ll wash it when
we go to bed.”
“It wasn’t there when I arrived.”
“No.” She continued to stare at him, and some of that simmering anger began to bubble over. “What? I’m supposed to get through
tonight without venting? Without wanting to shove my hand through a brick wall?” He let his head fall back against the sofa
and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m trying here, Livvy, trying to be the guy you need me to be right now, but it’s fucking
hard.”
“I know.” Her voice broke and she curled up on his lap. “This isn’t how it was supposed to be. I want to be excited, proud, but all I can think right now is what this job is going to take away from me, not what it’s going to give me.”
Then don’t let it, he wanted to scream, but what was the point? She was going to go to New York, maybe miss him and Ellie for a few months
before she found her feet. Then she’d take the world of finance by storm and never look back.
He was the one who’d momentarily held everything he’d ever wanted in the palm of his hand and then had it snatched away from
him.