Chapter 49
Quentin
"You wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit you in the arse," my son growls at me from the other side of my desk.
Funny, I've tried to get him to come into the office and take interest in what we do here but couldn’t get him within a mile of the office. Today, for the first time ever, he’s here. And for what? To chew me out over how I treat my wife?
It’s been three days since that discussion with her sister, which was very enlightening.
I intend to see my wife, apologize, and beg for her forgiveness, but I’m having difficulty formulating my speech.
Yep, for the first time, I’m at a loss for words.
I wrote down what I was going to tell her, then tore it up and threw it away.
Many times. I want to do something—something to back up my words, to show her how much I mean it. And so far, I’ve had zero ideas.
What should I do to woo her?
What do you give a woman who has enough money in the bank to buy herself anything she wants?
And her sister and father are taken care of.
How else can I show her how serious I am about getting back together?
I’ve gone around in circles in my head. I decided to shut myself up in my office and cancel all my meetings and calls until I think this through and come up with a plan.
I didn’t go home, either, because I needed to mull over my mistakes.
I need to do something that will blow her mind.
I need to... show her how much I love her.
I need to be with her. I only have to tell her I love her.
I know she loves me and yet... confessing my love to her is proving to be so bloody difficult.
To expose myself completely like that feels like I’m making myself too vulnerable.
And what if it's already too late? What if I’ve pissed her off so badly, she’ll never forgive me?
I’ve never been this indecisive in my life. She’s reduced me to a man who barely knows his mind anymore. Speaking of… "How do you know we had a fight?" I scowl. "Did you—"
"Find out about it? Arthur told me. And before you ask, he heard about it from Sinclair."
I frown. I called Sinclair out of desperation, and to brainstorm ideas for how to make things up with my wife.
He was taken aback, at first. Then, he laughed and welcomed me to the club of men who realize their lives are nothing without their women.
Then, he congratulated me on becoming an honest man.
Then, he told me to kindly fuck off and figure things out for myself.
He added that, if I love her, I’ll be able to.
No pressure there. Then, a thought strikes me. "Arthur’s been talking to you?"
“He’s concerned about you.
I make a rude noise.
My son laughs. “Now you know how it feels to be in my shoes.”
“What do you mean?” I scowl.
“You and Arthur are cut from the same cloth. Like Arthur, you only talk to me when you want something from me."
"That’s not true—" I begin to protest, but he holds up his hand.
"Don’t bother to deny it."
I clamp my lips shut. There’s no winning with my son. And anything I say will be used against me. It’s best to shut up and let him say his piece. When I stay silent, he scoffs, "Nothing to say for yourself?"
I throw up my hands. "When I tried to defend myself, you shut me up. Now, when I stay quiet, you get pissed off. What would you like, son?"
His frown deepens. "I wish you wouldn’t call me that."
"I wish Arthur weren’t my father, either, but we can’t always get what we want, can we?"
He slowly straightens to his full height. "Except you got her. You don’t realize how lucky you are.”
I do, actually.
He leans forward on the balls of his feet. “From what I hear, you’re breaking her heart, and you don’t fucking care."
The band around my chest tightens. My belly ties itself in knots. I care more than you realize. More than anyone realizes. But I’m going to make sure she does.
"Language," I say in a mild tone, more to get him off the topic, then wince. I’ve heard men Felix’s age swear using the kinds of words I wouldn’t.
I’ve seen men his age shoot to kill without displaying any emotion.
And here I am, scolding Felix for using a four-letter word.
I’m not only duplicitous, I’m turning into my father.
I squeeze the bridge of my nose. "Fuck, I am turning into him, aren't I?”
"Glad it’s sinking into your thick skull," he says with satisfaction. He throws himself into the seat opposite my desk and moves around until one of his long legs is thrown over an arm.
“Why are you here?”
"To gloat when you make a fool of yourself of course." He flashes me a pleased smile.
"What do you mean?” I frown.
"Jesus, you’re so full of shit."
“I don’t need my own son insulting me."
"I’ll do more than that, considering you’re acting like a dickhead."
Anger lassoes a chokehold around my neck. "Watch where you’re going, boy."
He scoffs, "You don’t scare me, old man." He lowers his feet to the ground. "I told you if you did anything to make her unhappy, you’ll have to contend with me, so here I am.” He narrows his gaze, “How could you hurt her like this? Don’t you ever learn from your mistakes?”
"The fuck you talking about?"
He levels an accusing look at me. "My mother left you because you weren't attentive enough to her."
"Is that what you think?"
"Isn’t that the truth?"
"The truth"—I rub the back of my neck—"is more complicated than that.”
"The truth—" I begin but a new voice interrupts me.
"The truth is that I am happy to find you both here."
I whip my head in the direction of the door, and so does Felix.
He gapes at the woman standing in the doorway.
Her dark hair is pulled back in a chignon.
Her lips are painted a dark red, and there’s a pinched look to her features.
She’s thinner than I remember, and there are new lines around her eyes and mouth.
She walks forward, and the skin on her thigh flashes from between the slit in her skirt.
She pauses on the side of the desk between me and my son and looks between us.
"I hadn’t expected a family reunion, but… Never too late.” Her smile is almost genuine.
And I’d have believed it if I didn’t know her better.
Fucking hell. I knew this was going to happen when Arthur told me he’d announced my upcoming nuptials in the newspaper. I knew she’d hear about it and turn up to piss all over my life, the way she has the last few times. Always, always when something of significance occurs.
Good thing my wife isn’t here. If the two of them came face to face, it’d make matters between Raven and me more complicated.
"M-mother?" Felix’s Adam’s apple bobs. Once more, he seems younger than his years. His blue eyes, so like mine, are fixed on the woman like he’s seeing a ghost. And with good reason. He hasn’t seen her since the day she walked out on him when he was two-years-old.
"You grew up handsome, Felix." Her features soften as she takes him in. "I see you’ve still got that piece of hair that won't lie down.”
Felix reddens. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth it down, but the tuft of hair he pulls back springs forward again.
Her throat moves as she swallows. "Aren’t you going to give your mother a kiss?" she chides him gently.
He has a dazed look on his face as he gets to his feet, closes the distance to her and pecks her cheek. He pulls back and stares at her, no doubt, trying to make sense of the situation.
I, on the other hand, have no doubt the mother of my son is back to create trouble for me. "What do you want, Shiloh?" I bark.
She turns her gaze on me, and an admiring look comes into her eyes. "You certainly took care of yourself, Quentin. You’re more handsome than when I last saw you."
"And your heart is every bit as ugly as the day you left us," I bite out.
Her face falls. "I… I’m back."
"You’re not needed here. Like you weren’t needed the last time you decided to pay me a visit. What happened? Did the money I transferred to your account run out?” I growl.
“She paid you a visit?” Felix jerks his chin in my direction.
“She did. And it wasn’t the first time, either. Each time she approached me, it's because she needed money. Each time, I offered to take her to you, but she refused. She's had no interest in seeing you.” It’s going to hurt my son to hear this, but I can’t keep the truth from him anymore.
Felix’s face falls.
Shiloh’s expression grows mutinous. “Is it necessary to tell him that?”
“It’s the truth.”
The color drains from Felix’s face. “Is... Is it, mother?”
“Tell him,” I scowl at her.
Shiloh throws me a venomous look. But when she turns to Felix, her expression turns soft again. “I’m sorry. It was too difficult for me to look at you. It brought back too many memories, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to cope with seeing you.”
“Too difficult for you?” He shakes his head. “Are you kidding me? You left me when I was a toddler. Now you’re back, and I learn that there were opportunities for us to have met but you never took them?”
She takes a step in his direction.
He holds up his hand. “Do you know how many times I have dreamed of this meeting? How many times I imagined the moment I’d come face-to-face with my mother?
The number of times I looked at your picture and wished I could see you in real life?
I was sure there was a reason you never came to see me.
In fact, I was sure he”—Felix nods in my direction— “paid you to stay away.”
What the— I open, then shut my mouth, deciding to stay quiet. Felix has enough to deal with.
“Turns out I was wrong.” Felix narrows his gaze on her. “Though apparently, he was paying you, after all.”
“I had no other means of income. I am your mother. He”—she glances at me then back at her son— “he owed me.”
“Any debts I owed you have been paid off.” I cross my arms across my chest. ”I have nothing left for you.”
“You have billions.” She waves a hand in the air. “What’s a little more? If you could send me an allowance until he turned twenty-one—"