Chapter 33 #2
“Of course,” she says. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that situation for as long as you did. Hopefully, we’re on track to righting team morale and instilling some better leadership in different divisions. That outsider’s perspective I told Jack about has been worth its weight in gold.”
After Penelope leaves, Maryam enters.
“I can’t believe Jack had to be escorted out,” she says in a hushed whisper.
“Unfortunate, but pretty on brand for him.”
I open my desktop and click into my email. Nothing pressing, so I lean back in my chair and let out a sigh. If only Imogen hadn’t returned, all these decisions about to land in my lap would be easy.
Maryam sits down in the chair opposite my desk. “The code of conduct training is going well. Catherine said she was glad you came to this branch. That you recognized the people who were actually doing their jobs properly and worked to do something about those who weren’t.”
“I’m trying,” I say. “All of Jack’s work friends are getting a second chance to make a better impression, though time may be running out for that.”
“The project is behind. They won’t send you home before it’s finished.”
“No, I don’t think they will.” I fiddle with a pen on my desk, and my email chimes, but I leave it closed.
“One of my favorite things is how fair you’ve tried to be since you arrived. You want what’s best for the company, but you don’t neglect the employees either. Balancing interests can be tricky, and so many people I’ve worked for don’t get it right.”
“I’m not sure I always get it right either.” Jack’s comments ring in my ears.
“You try to keep your personal feelings out of hard decisions, which I admire. It’s easy to give a knee-jerk answer.”
Which is funny because this conversation is starting to touch on nerves I’d rather leave untouched.
I click open my email, and there’s one from Mark, my old boss in Michigan.
A tingling sensation shoots out of my fingers and along my arm.
They’ve actually sent me an offer—it’s literally the subject of the email.
“I, um.” I stare at the unopened email. “I’ve got a few things I need to take care of.”
“Right. Yeah. Me too.” She stands up, grinning. “It’s a good day, isn’t it? Feels like a fresh start.”
I hover my mouse over the email, and I’m not sure if it feels like a fresh start or the beginning of the end.
On Sunday, Ash is at football with Chloe, and I’ve just put Joey down for a nap when the doorbell rings. Normally, the tires cracking on the gravel driveway are a dead giveaway that someone is here, but from upstairs you don’t notice it as much.
I hustle down the stairs expecting a delivery driver with a couple of outfits I ordered for Chloe. But when I swing open the door, my smile dies on my face. Even though I’ve never seen her before, there’s enough of a resemblance to Chloe that I have no doubt who she is.
“Imogen,” I say, swallowing. “You must be Imogen. Ash isn’t here, but I’m assuming you know that since Chloe should be at your parents’ house with you.” My eyes widen on a thought. “Are Ash and Chloe okay?”
“If they weren’t, I’d be with them, not here talking to you.” Her jaw sets in defiance.
“I’m not sure why you’re here then,” I say. Though, I can guess. Diya told me Imogen loved nothing more than to stake her claim on Ash. Coming here when she knows he’s not around is exactly the type of move someone like her would make.
“I’m sure Ash hasn’t been honest with you, so I thought we should chat. He doesn’t like to hurt people’s feelings. Too kind for his own good.”
Even though I know what she’s doing, her words sting. For a second, I consider inviting her in, but she’s here for a fight that I don’t want. She and I can want whatever we want, but Ash’s happiness is the most important thing. And ultimately it’s his decision.
“He hasn’t even told me your name. Do you know that? Just calls you his ‘employer.’”
“It’s Paige,” I say, “and I am his employer, so I suppose that’s honest enough.”
I don’t extend my hand nor do I offer to have her in for a cup of tea, which would be the normal British custom. While my social circle isn’t particularly big here, Ash has had enough friends and acquaintances around for me to understand my role. Shame I won’t be playing it.
“How old are you, exactly?”
I let out a sigh. “Say whatever it is you need to say, Imogen.”
“All right.” Imogen eyes me, clearly assessing. “Ash and I have been together since we were fifteen. He’s been in love with me since we were fifteen. I left, and he was vulnerable, needed someone, and you happened to be here.”
Every word she says is true, but it’s not completely accurate. Hearing his circumstances laid out the way she’s put them makes me uneasy. Instead of arguing with her, I let her continue.
“He doesn’t want to let you down, so he’s staying in this house until the job is done. He’s loyal. You don’t want to stand in the way of him having the family with me that he wants, do you?”
“I’m not standing in the way of anything.”
Ash hasn’t even hinted at wanting to leave.
Does he seem a little far away sometimes, yes.
But I can imagine that having her return has been a lot to process.
I’ve tried really hard not to read into anything he hasn’t verbally told me.
One element of our relationship that’s for certain—we trust each other.
“He used to get into bar fights for me. Would never have even looked at another woman, wouldn’t have even considered it. He loved me that much.”
“You left, and he moved on with his life. It’s pretty unfair for you to expect him to wait when he didn’t even know what had happened, whether you’d return.”
Because I don’t doubt that he would have waited.
If she’d given him a glimmer of hope, he’d never have cracked the boss-employee veneer between the two of us.
It stings to realize it, but I’m not na?ve enough to think it’s not true.
The Ash who arrived at my house isn’t the same man who lives here now.
But I don’t know that he’s completely let her go, released the dream of him and Chloe and Imogen as a big, happy family.
My heart aches at the thought because my dream for him, if I really let myself consider it, doesn’t look like that at all.
“I had my reasons for leaving.” Her posture is stiff.
“I know why you thought you needed to leave,” I say, evenly.
“He wouldn’t have told you anything about it.”
“You were addicted to pills, and you shook Chloe. Ash and I don’t hide the ugly stuff from each other.” Or at least we haven’t.
She gasps as though I’ve physically assaulted her.
Up to now, Ash has been honest about everything.
The fact that he hasn’t hidden any of the circumstances around her leaving and coming back makes me think he’s where he wants to be—with me.
If he starts to show signs of being unwilling or unable to make the hard decisions, then maybe I’ll have to be the one to make them.
She seems to recover, and she shakes her head.
“He’s always been too trusting. Wears his heart on his sleeve.
Ask him what he wants, and I guarantee it’s me.
He might not say it—wouldn’t want to hurt you—but you’ll see it.
He’ll want what we had for ten years. Those feelings, that history, it doesn’t disappear in a year.
He wants the family he can have with me and Chloe.
Maybe he hasn’t had the stones to tell you yet, but he will.
Whatever is going on between you two is convenient, but it’s not forever. ”
Each of her claims lands like a lash, opening thin wounds all over my psyche, exposing an insecurity I didn’t consciously realize I had. Heat rises to my cheeks, but I hope she understands that it’s anger, not embarrassment or weakness, that’s surfacing.
“Ash is a grown man,” I say. “He’s capable of making his own decisions. If he decides that being with you is what’s best for him and Chloe, then I’ll support him.” The words taste bitter in my mouth, but they’re true. I wouldn’t hate him for it, even if his decision broke my heart in the process.
“I’m glad you’re not going to try to hold onto something that was never really yours.”
Her word choice bites. Ash and I have never made any promises to each other beyond taking care of one another. Up to now, we’ve done that pretty damn well, and if I have to let him go to keep doing it, I will. Even if it shatters my own happiness.
“Go enjoy your time with your daughter, Imogen. You’re lucky Ash is so forgiving. In his place, I wouldn’t have been.”
I shut the door, and then I lean against it, my whole body shaking.
Conflict management and resolution is one of my strong suits, but it’s completely different in a work environment.
There, I’ve got control. Here, I have so little.
All I have is understanding that as long as Ash is being honest about whatever he’s thinking and feeling, I’ve got no reason to throw on the brakes or put up an emotional roadblock.
Why would I ruin the best relationship I’ve ever had?
But Imogen’s words keep circling, echoing, reminding me that their history is rich and deep. That he loved and missed her so much when he first arrived at my house that no one could speak her name. Even if I wanted to compete with that, I don’t know how I can.