Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Holt
Every muscle in my whole fucking body hurts.
I loosen my tie as I speed too fast down Cobblestone Way.
Blaire hasn’t answered my calls or texts all day. It’s unusual for her, and despite knowing that she’s pissed at me—rightfully so—I’m surprised. I almost sent Larissa to my house to make sure she didn’t leave, but I don’t really think she would’ve.
She said she loves me. She couldn’t leave after that. Could she?
I shiver as a chill blasts through my body.
I step harder on the gas pedal.
I’d hoped some time apart could give us some space to figure this shit out. How it got so convoluted, I’ll never know.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway.
It got convoluted the moment I saw her.
I slow down for a man on a bike. He gives me a wave, and I wave back. He seems so carefree as he pedals down our street and enjoys the evening sun, and it pisses a part of me off.
Why does he get to enjoy his night when I don’t?
“Because you’re a fucking idiot,” I say aloud.
I don’t know how our conversation will go when I get home. I also don’t know how much of my chat with Oliver she heard. But what I do know is that I need her to understand the context. I need her to know why I said those things—because I don’t want to hurt her.
Which I inadvertently already did.
I slam my palm against the steering wheel.
My stomach twists as I think about her overhearing any of what I said to my brother. I can’t even remember all of what was verbalized in the hallway. I only know that I made it clear that I can’t be what Blaire needs.
And that remains true.
“If you didn’t want me to fall in love with you …”
Surely, she didn’t mean that. She couldn’t have. Blaire Gibson wouldn’t fall in love with a guy like me—a man so busy in his own life that he can’t take care of hers.
She has to know she deserves better. How could she not realize how special she is? How could she not demand more for herself? She needs someone who won’t walk out on her like Jack.
And like me.
A bubble of rage fills my stomach as I acknowledge what I’ve done.
I left her when she needed me. And whether I had something else to do or not, I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what my options were, but I should’ve figured something out. There were too many irons in the fire, too many people calling. Too much to handle all at the same time.
I grip the steering wheel.
My phone rings through my car, and I answer it without looking to see who it is.
“Hello?” I say.
“Just heard from Graham Landry,” Oliver says. “Tomorrow morning at ten. We’re heading to their offices. He wants our final offer.”
I’ve waited for this day for weeks. It should feel like a milestone getting to the finish line.
I sigh.
Oliver, Wade, Boone, and I killed it today.
Even though I was distracted as fuck, I was able to promise myself I’d have time to make things right with Blaire later and focus.
We filled every potential hole, came up with a viable solution to every argument Landry could make, and secured an investor who will make things much smoother.
Every time my brain flipped to her, I told myself to set it to the side until I got home. Then she gets my undivided attention, and we can figure this out.
“We’re ready,” I say to Oliver, removing my tie altogether and tossing it onto the passenger’s seat. “I feel really good about this.”
“The deck area Wade added in from Blaire’s suggestion is the feather in our cap.”
“Yeah.”
“Landry will love that. And so will we in the long run.”
“For sure.” I work my neck back and forth. “I’ll be in the office early. Around four thirty in the morning. Maybe five. If you want to come in and do a last-minute run-through, I’ll be there.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
My house approaches. With every inch I get closer, the harder my heart pounds.
“I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, Ollie.”
“Hey, real quick.” Ollie takes a deep breath. “I’ve not brought up the whole thing at Mom’s because I can tell you’re dealing with something else. But I want you to know that I always have your back. And I’m sorry if I pissed you off. I just want what’s best for you, Holt.”
I slump in my seat. I didn’t know I needed to hear that today, but I did. It’s apparent.
“Thanks, Ollie. I … It’s been a day.”
“And we can hash it out whenever you’re ready. Or not.”
I grin. “Thanks, brother.”
“Anytime.”
“Bye.”
I end the call and turn sharply into my driveway. As I fly toward the house, I scan the area for Blaire’s rental car.
It’s gone.
Shit.
My car barely comes to a stop before I jump out. I leave the door wide open as I jog up the stairs, punch the keycode in, and step inside the foyer.
I can still see Blaire standing on the stairs with those tragic black streaks running down her face.
My heart squeezes so tight that I brace my chest with my hand.
She’s gone.
I don’t have to go to the guest room to see if her suitcase is there to know it isn’t.
It’s as if the house itself knows she’s left and is mourning. The sun fails to stream in the windows and is instead disturbed by a host of clouds. The usual warmth of the space has faded into a tempered blur.
I walk the hallway to the kitchen. Her laughter fills my mind as I pass by Coy’s painting that hangs on the wall.
I pour myself a drink and sit at the kitchen island. The room feels bigger than I’ve ever noticed before. I wonder why I ever wanted a house this big just for me. There was a reason. I just can’t remember it.
There’s a hollowness in my chest that I can’t escape. No rationalization or excuses will make the void disappear.
I fucked her over, even if I didn’t mean to.
Just like I did Kendra.
And just like Jack did her.
The bourbon bites at my throat as I drink. I welcome the burn.
“If you didn’t want me to fall in love with you …”
Her words keep coming back to me. It hurts a little more each time.
Many women have told me they loved me over the course of my life, but I never felt like any of them actually did. They might have been infatuated with me or in lust with me, but none of them loved me. Not really.
But none of them said it like Blaire, either.
It wasn’t moaned in the heat of passion. It wasn’t armed as a weapon. It wasn’t used in an attempt to manipulate me into doing something.
She said it from a place deep inside her. It didn’t give her joy to say it. It caused her pain.
It caused her pain because I didn’t say it back.
I tip up my glass and take another long swallow.
My phone rings on the counter. I plan to let it go to voicemail, but my curiosity gets the best of me, and I glance at the screen.
“Hey, Riss,” I say, my voice slower and heavier than usual.
She sighs. “It’s as bad as he said, huh?”
“Who?”
“Ollie.”
I take another drink. The ice cubes clink in the glass.
“Are you drinking?” she asks.
“Yup.”
“Oh. Grand. This should be fun.”
I chuckle. “What do you want, you little pain in my ass?”
“I want to offer my services.”
“Um …”
“Oh, no! Not like that. Ew. Gross. No. Forget I said that.” She gags on the other end for my amusement. “What I meant was that I’m calling to see if you need a female brain to help make your man brain work.”
“My man brain works just fine, thank you very much.”
“Eh,” she says. “I’m voting no on that.”
I stand and head to the counter. The bourbon is still sitting next to the ticket stubs from Coy’s concert and the gummy bear wrapper Blaire finished off last night.
I pick up the tickets and hold them in my hands.
I’m taken back to that night with Blaire and my family.
I was so nervous about taking her around my brothers.
Every time I pictured it in my head, they’d say something stupid, and she’d be offended.
Or she’d realize my mother has been trying to marry me off for the past ten years and bail.
But then I realized I didn’t want to go without her.
I was so damn proud to be there with her, to show her off to my parents and brothers. And not because she was some kind of physical trophy, although she was a knockout in that tight black shirt, but because she was classy and smart. And just for that night, she was mine.
She was there with me as a man she met in the airport. She didn’t give a shit about my money or what my last name means here or that Coy was my brother—hell, she didn’t even know. She was just attending an event with a guy who she deemed worthy of being with.
Me.
My spirits fall.
“Okay, so, Oliver said that you’re all messed up today. Wanna talk about it?” Riss asks.
“No, I don’t wanna talk about it. I want to go drink some more and try to forget it.”
“Big mistake, buddy.”
“It was a big mistake to answer your call.”
I pour myself a drink and wonder if I can hang up on her. I don’t because she’d just show up at my house and let herself in.
She’s done it before.
“Blaire left,” I say.
It comes out harsh and cold, but I don’t know how to make it sound less blunt.
Riss sucks in a deep breath that doesn’t go unnoticed by me. “Well, this puts things in perspective.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
It’s a lie. I’m not fine. But I don’t know what else to say. Do I admit I’m the fucking disaster I feel like I am? That won’t help anyone.
“Sometimes, it’s easier to pretend that you don’t care than to admit that you’re dying inside,” she says.
“That’s poetic.”
She sighs. “Well, I guess I see why Blaire left now.”
“Oh, do you?”
“Yes. You’re an asshole.”
“True enough.” I take a long drink before smacking my lips together. “Is that all you called for?”
“Sure. That’s it. Good luck recovering from this one.”
I lean against the counter and shake my head. “This will go away. I just need to put some time and distance between Blaire and me.”
“Sorry to break it to you, but real feelings don’t go away.”
“You’re on fire tonight with the inspirational bullshit.”
“Just here to help.”
“Well, you’re not.”
I walk to the window and look out at the pool. Blaire’s favorite chair sits empty. All that remains from her time sitting out there is a bright red hair elastic on the deck.
It takes everything I have not to go get it.
I turn away. I can’t look at it.
“Let me ask you something,” I say to my cousin. “What is love?”
She laughs.
“Forget it,” I say.
“No! No, no, no. I just didn’t expect that.”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Maybe that you were going to ask me why you should go get her? I was totally ready to convince you. I had a speech queued up and ready to go.”
I grin. “I’m not going after her.”
“May I ask why not?”
I down the rest of my drink before answering her.
“I don’t have the energy to fight at work and fight when I get home, Riss.
I can’t afford to chase her down—especially when I have so much shit happening right now.
” I set the glass on the counter. “And you know what? She needs someone who can spend the weekends walking around town with her and not feel guilty. She deserves someone who can have a fucking conversation without their phone going off fourteen times. That someone is not me.”
“But you asked her to stay, right?”
My silence speaks for itself.
“Holt …”
“She has a full life in Chicago. I have a full life here. We both are so busy that it would never work anyway, even if it were a good idea.”
“I’m assuming you got her opinion on the matter. Right?”
“She’ll agree once she gets home and thinks about it.”
She groans. “I could kill you right now.”
“For being kind? Thoughtful? Mature? Okay.”
“For being a fucking idiot. How can someone so brilliant be so dense at the same time?”
The alcohol begins to do its job. My veins pulse with an unnatural warmth. My head fogs with a welcomed haze. I’m still well aware that Blaire is gone and that I’m a well-intentioned asshole, but the sharpness of the pain is muted.
Thank God.
“Tell you what,” I tell her. “I’ll try to call her again. If she doesn’t answer, I’ll assume that’s her way of telling me to go fuck myself. And if that’s the case, I’ll agree with her methodology.”
“Please, Holt—please think about this before you make it worse.”
I laugh sadly. “How worse could it get? She’s gone.”
“Because you let her go.”
“Because I had to.”
I eye the bottle of bourbon again.
“I gotta go, Riss. Thanks for calling and checking on me.”
She sighs. “You’re welcome. Just … remember that it’s okay to be happy. It’s not a character flaw.”
“Sure. Talk to you later.”
“Goodbye.”
I end the call and pour myself another drink.