13. Graham
GRAHAM
T his is why I don’t do relationships. Because what the fuck was that?
She’s not well. I know she’s not well. But she sends me away and…I fucking had to because of a goddamn word? I pace the entrance to my penthouse, staring at the security camera in her hall. What the fuck even was that?
I’ve never felt so inadequate.
I text her to tell me when she's available to talk and I get no response.
I text Brian to tell him what happened and ask what to do and all he can say is that sometimes women are emotional and to give her space.
That doesn’t feel right. None of this feels right. But I have no experience in these matters. I don’t know what the fuck happened, let alone what to do.
It keeps me awake all night. I can’t sleep. I can’t even lie down. I just keep staring at my phone, typing out messages and deleting them.
I’ve been a fool. I took her to meet my friends, but the problem is that I don’t know any of her friends.
There’s nobody I can call to find out what happened.
If I did, it would be overstepping a boundary.
She already safeworded me. Legally I probably committed a crime entering her house like that.
Maddie’s never introduced me to any of her friends, she’s only talked about a few people in passing.
If she wanted me to meet them, she would have made that happen.
I have to remind myself that what we have is an arrangement, and it’s one she needs so she’ll come back.
She’ll answer me when she’s in better spirits and she’ll tell me what happened. She has to, doesn’t she?
Uncertainty washes through me and I feel like an even bigger prick assuming money will keep her coming back to me. Fuck!
All through the evening and then the next day she never texts me and never calls.
The only person who does call is Harland Porter.
He calls at one in the fucking morning, and when my phone rings, everything in me lights up. It’s her. It’s her.
But it’s Harland goddamn Porter.
“What is it?” I snap, not caring if he doesn’t like my tone.
“I’ve been up, just going through some things in my head, and I wanted to run them?—”
“Harland, if you want to sell me the building, then sell the damn thing to me. If you don’t want to, then stop stringing me along. I’ve had enough of this. You know where I stand. Make up your mind by tomorrow at five, or I’m pulling out.”
That shocks him into silence. “Graham, I?—”
“Tomorrow at five,” I repeat, and hang up the call.
My entire body trembles as I sit back down and stare at the security cameras. I text Brian to ask how bad it may get if I were to go back down there. And foolishly I text Maddie again and she texts back that she needs to sleep.
Graham: what happened?
Maddie: I need to get back to sleep.
Graham: you told me that but I need to know what happened.
Maddie: I can’t right now. I just…I’m sorry.
It’s then that Brian texts me as well.
Brian: Seriously. Just give her some time.
I drop my phone, hating every fucking minute of this. Sometime after dawn I doze off on the couch in my living room and wake up again with a jolt at ten to nine.
Fuck me.
I’m usually in the office by now, but I feel wrecked from the night awake.
Every single one of my muscles hurts like I’ve run a marathon.
I stomp into my shower and let the hot water do its work.
The steam surrounds me and my head races with every thought imaginable.
The only conclusion I come to is that she’s leaving.
Something happened to pull her away. Was it her fucking ex?
I don’t know what I’ll do if she’s actually leaving me.
There are no messages from Harland Porter on my phone when I get out, but I don’t care.
I don’t care. What the hell was so important about this property? What was I trying to prove by sticking things out with a man who doesn’t know what he wants? The only things that matter are Maddie and the fact that she didn’t message me.
I shave at the sink, barely looking at myself. This is a horrible feeling. It’s the feeling I’ve been resisting for years. I didn’t want anything to be more important than making sure I had the right life, and I was wrong.
I was just wrong.
I tap the razor too hard on the edge of the sink and get a grip on myself.
I didn’t know what to do for her because I’ve spent all this time worrying about buildings instead of people. I lost my parents, so I thought that was it. There was nothing else for me to concern myself with but building a legacy that surpassed them.
I’m the one who did this to myself, and now to Maddie.
Getting dressed feels worthless. None of this shit matters, either.
None of the custom suits or tailored shirts or expensive watches.
What the fuck are they worth? When it comes down to it, I’ll be alone because I don’t know how to love anyone anymore.
I don’t let them close so they don’t let me close.
And I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to wipe her tears away and to make whatever it was that hurt Maddie vanish.
I was focused on the wrong damn things in the first place.
Once I’ve got my shirt buttoned up, I put my head in my hands and force myself to breathe.
No. This is not how I wanted things to go. If she’s going to push me away, I need her to know that I don’t want her to. I need her to know that I…that I… fuck !
I don’t know what to do for the rest of the day. I pace around my apartment, waiting to see if she’ll call.
Eventually, I’m ready to admit that I’m the one who has to choose what I’m going to do. I can’t keep waiting. So I make the decision to go down to the lobby and check in with the doormen.
I need to reset my view of the property, of Maddie, and of my entire life.
The ground floor is the best place to start.
I dress, double check to make sure I have my phone and wallet, and head for the door.
My penthouse feels empty without Maddie.
It’s always been too much space for one person, but I ignored that feeling because it was a status symbol.
A man like me is supposed to have a penthouse.
It’s what’s best. It’s the crowning jewel.
But what the fuck good is a king without his queen?
In reality, a man like me is supposed to know better. He should understand that he can’t just waste away by himself, alone in his penthouse, counting piles of money that do fuck all to fill the gaping hole in his chest.
He should’ve known from the beginning that all the money would never be enough.
In the elevator, I lean against the wall and tell myself over and over again that it’s not too late.
I don’t even know what it’s not too late for.
My phone rings as I’m stepping out of the elevator, and my heart pounds thinking it’s her.
It isn’t.
“Hey, Scott,” I say into the phone, trying to hide my disappointment. “I’m on my way to the office.”
“Oh, please. You can spare a couple minutes for me.”
“Yeah.”
“We need to get together again. What are your plans on Thursday? All my wife talks about is seeing you two again.”
You two .
I go the opposite way from the lobby, following the hall without looking where I’m going until I find an alcove with a bench.
“I’m not sure I can make that happen.”
“What?” Scott laughs, like I’ve made a hilarious joke. “We all want to see her again, and we’re sick of seeing you twice a year.”
“You see me twice a year because I’m busy.”
“We’re all busy,” he argues, still laughing. “We can’t let you slip away, man. That’s how you lose people.”
“I…” What am I supposed to say to that? Not having dinner together isn’t how you lose people. They work themselves to death and die. That’s how you lose them. And I don’t think eating at fancy restaurants will do anything to stop that.
Except...he’s right. I felt miserable last night because there was nobody to call. Nobody I wanted to talk to except Maddie. Because I’ve pulled myself away from all of them. “I know that.”
“You okay?” His voice gets softer, and I can tell Scott’s catching on to the fact that he got me at a bad time.
I almost lie out of habit. That’s what I’ve done all this time. There’s no reason to burden anyone else.
Then I think of Maddie, crying in her bed.
“I don’t know.” Unwanted emotions surface and I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“What happened?” There’s a creak in the background of the call, like he’s sat down behind his desk. A door closes somewhere nearby. Scott didn’t call me to listen to me complain about my own foolish mistakes, but somewhere in the city, he’s sitting down, ready to listen.
“I don’t know.” I feel sick from how little I know. From how little I asked. From how unwilling she was to confide in me. “Something’s going on with Maddie.”
“Oh,” he says, thoughtful. “And she didn’t tell you what it was?”
“No.” I don’t know how much to tell him.
It’s not really my business, what’s happening in Maddie’s life, only…
it is my fucking business. I care about her, and I’m not going to stop because something happened that I wasn’t there to prevent.
“I went up to see her last night, and she was crying. Told me she wanted me to leave.”
“And have you talked today?”
“No.”
“This was last night?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus, Graham. Go knock on her door.”
“I don’t think she wants that.”
“You're her boyfriend. I’m sure she wants that. Even if she doesn’t want to lean on you, she wants to lean on you. Trust me.”
This is the worst possible time to admit that I lied about all the details I gave my friends. “We didn’t meet at the bar. We met at the building.”
Scott lets out a surprised laugh. “At your building, you mean?”
“She lives here. And she fell behind on the rent, so...”
“So you swooped in to be her hero?”
God I love his version so much better. Her hero. I roll my eyes and know damn well I took advantage. If only he knew how much I wanted to tell him that story. If only he knew how much I wanted it to be true.
“In a way.”
“Um...what kind of way?”