Chapter Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Seven
Alistair
I choose to change my life one step at a time, and today I take that step.
I stomped up the garage stairs and into the house, then threw myself down on the couch.
“Fuck,” I said, tipping my head back.
The look on Pam’s face as she walked into the airport was seared into my brain, playing on a nonstop loop. The pain was tangible, something I felt deep within my own chest. Like my soul was being ripped apart.
The worst part was that this was my own doing.
I could have stopped her. I could have chased after her in one of those cinematic rom-com scenes, but I was too chickenshit. Too scared of admitting my feelings and that for the first time in my life, there was something more important than work.
I puffed out a heavy breath.
When I slumped my head forward again, I noticed one of Remi’s cat toys, a floppy fish, lying on its side on the living room floor. It tipped me over the edge.
Every memory of Pam in my space came rushing back. The sound of her laughter. The way the firelight danced across her naked body. The serene look on her face while she slept in my lap.
And now she was gone.
I needed a buzz. Something to dull the pain until I could figure out where to take things from here.
But first, I needed some music.
On Valentine’s Day while Pam was getting ready, she was listening to the album Ten by Pearl Jam. There was a song on that album that was perfect for how I felt.
I didn’t have the record, so I grabbed the CD and popped it into the surround sound player. It was a relic, but I wasn’t about to let physical media die. Those fucks at streaming services didn’t deserve my money for how little they paid artists.
I put on the song “Black” and sang along with Eddie Vedder, each crooning note stabbing its way into my already shattered heart.
The melody picked up as I fumbled with the bar cart, set a lowball glass on the counter, and poured myself a glass of amber whiskey. I brought the cup to my mouth, knocked it back, and felt it burn my throat on the way down.
“Fuck,” I hissed, grimacing. Normally I liked a single ice ball, letting it slowly melt to water down the drink, but this was what I needed right now.
I poured myself another, opting to sip on it while I dug through my stash drawer. There was something in there I wanted. Something I only brought out for special occasions or particularly stressful days.
The cylindrical tube brushed against my fingertips, and I pulled it out, smiling down at it victoriously.
I broke the seal, pouring a perfect prerolled joint onto my palm.
It was herbal, earthy, strong. One of our most popular strains.
I held it between my lips, lit it with the candle lighter, and took little puffs until the end of the joint was glowing red.
I knew smoking was bad for you, but this hit differently than a gummy.
Thin swirls of smoke wafted toward the ceiling and wrapped me in a warm cannabis haze. I lit a few candles and sat on the couch, watching the light flicker up the walls while Eddie Vedder serenaded me.
With my joint in one hand and my whiskey in the other, I stared at the empty space on the couch next to me. The space Pam had occupied just a few hours ago.
The way that I missed that woman.
The song crescendoed, and while Eddie went on about long-lost love, tears stung my eyes.
I could have been macho and dismissed it as the weed, but it was Pam.
I wanted her here with me. I wanted to hear her sweet snorty laugh and the sultry way she called me “lover boy.” I wanted to fall asleep next to her, and I even wanted to wake up to that little hairless cat every morning.
For her, I’d jump right out of bed to feed him.
This was pathetic. I was wallowing in self-pity instead of doing something about it. But was I ready to let go of my job? Was I ready to pack up my life and go all in with a woman I had only been dating for a month?
I already knew the answer to that question.
And it was a resounding yes.
—
Morning light trickled through the blinds, and I covered my face with a pillow.
My head was pounding. I had drunk a little too much the night before, doing what I could to distract myself from Pam’s absence.
Last night was for wallowing, but today was for action.
Well, as soon as I got my shit together.
My phone vibrated on the nightstand, and I rolled over, blindly reaching for it with my eyes half open.
It was a text message from Pam.
Pam: Good morning, lover boy.
Fuck. It was just yesterday that she was in my bed calling me that.
Alistair: Good morning, pretty lady.
I groaned and stared at the empty pillow on her side of the bed. It was our first morning apart, and I already hated waking up without her next to me.
How could I have just let her go like that?
I was so close to telling her exactly how I felt about her.
Why did I stop myself?
Usually, I was so forward. But I didn’t want to freak her out.
I mean, I’d known I was in love with her for a while now.
Hell, maybe even after our first date.
The conversation we’d had the night before she left changed things for me.
I’d spent so much of my time building companies and making money, but none of that mattered now. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.
I didn’t want to waste a single second.
Standing with a groan, I stretched and opened my nightstand. I pulled out the little folded piece of paper with Jonathan’s offer and ran my fingers over the string of zeros that never seemed to end.
It was a lot of money, but I’d give it all up for her. Every single cent, I was sure of it.
That I’d get to walk away with it was just a perk.
I grabbed my phone, not giving a shit about what time it was, and called Jonathan.
He answered on the third ring.
“Al?” he asked in that just-woke-up voice.
“Hey, Jon, sorry to wake you. I wanted to get back to you about the offer. I accept. Have your lawyers draft a contract and send it to my lawyers.”
“Really?” he asked, shocked and slightly more awake.
“Really. And, uh, you don’t happen to know any good Realtors, do you?”
“Lauren’s cousin is one. I’ll send you her info. And, Al, thank you. For being my business partner and teaching me everything I know. I hope you enjoy your retirement.”
I smiled, thinking of just how much Jonathan reminded me of myself. He’d take great care of the company. “Thank you, I plan to. Talk to you soon.”
Before he could say anything else, I ended the call, let out a long exhale, and felt all the stress leave my body.
This wasn’t the end.
This was the beginning of the rest of my life.
I found Chai’s contact and hit call, hoping she wasn’t teaching a class.
“Hey, Dad, what’s up?”
“I accepted Jonathan’s offer. I’m gonna sell the house and move to Briar Glenn,” I blurted out in one rushed string of words.
Chai laughed. “It’s about damn time. I was starting to wonder what was taking you so long. I knew you’d be done for once Pam went out there.”
I grinned and shook my head. “You know me better than I know myself.”
“I mean, this stubbornness had to come from somewhere.” She was quiet for a second before finally asking, “Does Pam know?”
“Not yet. I, uh, I was hoping you could help me with something.”
“All right, Romeo. What do you have in mind?”