CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alex
Graham read the proposed restructuring twice. Then he placed the pages on the conference table. “No.”
Alex stared at him. “What do you mean, no?”
“I mean I’m not signing this.”
“It does not require your signature.”
“Then why show me?”
“Courtesy.”
“Your courtesy is annoying.”
Alex leaned back.
Kane Hill occupied three floors overlooking Madison Avenue.
This conference room had once represented everything Alex wanted.
Glass. Steel. His name on the wall. A firm large enough that no one could dismiss what he had built.
Now he looked around and saw the number of nights he had chosen this room because being here made sense.
Buildings obeyed rules. Load. Materials. Budget. Time. People didn't.
Graham tapped the document. “You’re trying to punish yourself.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“You’re giving away international projects.”
“I’m redistributing travel.”
“You are the reason half those clients hire us.”
“Then they need to learn Kane Hill has more than one competent architect.”
“I agree.” Graham sat back. “But you’re doing this because you think Jessica will see it and decide you have changed.”
Alex looked toward the windows. “That isn’t why.”
“Bullshit.”
“You’ve become very comfortable insulting your business partner.”
“I spent most of our twenties keeping your head out of a toilet. I’m allowed.”
Alex almost smiled.
Graham picked up the document again. “Do you want this?”
“Yeah.”
“Would you want it if Jessica divorced you next month?”
The question cut straight through him. Alex looked at Graham. “I don’t know.”
“That is the issue.”
Alex frowned. “I’m not asking permission.”
“No. You’re asking me to absorb half your travel schedule because your marriage imploded.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Prove it.”
“How?”
“Wait.”
Alex stared.
Graham shrugged. “If you still want this structure in six months, we change it. Right now you’re bleeding and trying to redesign the company while doing it.”
Alex looked down at the papers. “I missed my daughter’s birth because I thought I had to be here.”
“No.” Graham’s tone sharpened. “You missed your daughter’s birth because you decided Jessica’s fear was less important than what you were doing here.”
Alex looked up.
“The firm didn't do that.” Graham pointed at him. “You did.”
The accusation no longer made Alex defensive. That was progress. It also felt terrible. “I know.”
Graham’s expression softened slightly. “I know you do.”
Alex rubbed his wedding ring. “I still want the restructuring.”
“Then scale it back.”
“How?”
“You stop acting like every client presentation requires Alex Kane personally descending from the heavens.”
“That is not how I act.”
Graham stared.
Alex sighed. “Continue.”
“We distribute travel. We train two more people to handle presentations. You stop scheduling your life like home is what happens when work is finished.”
Alex looked at the document. “That’s basically what I proposed.”
“No. You proposed professional self-immolation.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Yes. Mine is sustainable.”
Alex almost laughed.Then he picked up the pen. “All right.”
Graham leaned back. “Does Jessica know?”
“I’m going to tell her.”
“Why?”
“Because this changes my schedule with Sophia.”
Graham studied him. “That is an acceptable reason.”
Jessica met him at the hospital cafeteria the next afternoon. Sophia had spent the morning practicing bottle feeding and exhausting herself. Jessica looked exhausted in sympathy. She sat across from Alex with a cup of soup.
He had learned not to comment on whether soup counted as lunch. Progress came in strange forms.
“I need to tell you something about my schedule.”
Jessica’s expression immediately guarded.“What?”
“I’m changing how I work.”
She stared.
Alex felt the old impulse. Explain quickly. Make it sound reasonable. Show her why it mattered. He slowed himself.
“Graham and I have been restructuring some responsibilities. More of the senior architects are taking presentations and travel.”
“Why?”
“Because the firm shouldn’t depend on me being everywhere.”
Jessica put down her spoon. “And?”
“And that means my availability with Sophia will change. I’ll be in New York more consistently.”
Her gaze sharpened. “This is because of me.”
“No.”
“Alex.”
He paused.
“Partly.”
Jessica looked away.
The reaction wasn't what he expected.
He felt the mistake before she spoke.
“You quit traveling.”
“No.”
“Reduced it.”
“Yes.”
“Started therapy.”
“Yes.”
“Signed up for every NICU class.”
“Yes.”
“Changed your schedule.”
“Yes.”
She looked back at him.
“You keep showing me receipts.”
Alex frowned.
“What?”
“Therapy. Work. Sophia’s classes. Food. The things you’ve stopped doing. The things you’ve started doing.”
“That isn’t what I’m trying to do.”
“Isn’t it?”
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Jessica leaned back.
“You keep laying everything on the table like eventually the total will equal what you owe.”
The sentence hurt because he had no immediate defense.
He had told himself he understood this.
Apparently understanding lasted until he wanted something.
“I thought you should know because it affects scheduling.”
“That’s not the only reason you told me.”
Alex looked down. “No.”
Jessica’s expression softened a little. “What did you want?”
He forced himself to answer truthfully. “I wanted you to think it meant something.”
“It does.”
His head lifted.
She continued. “It means you’re changing your work structure.”
Alex nodded slowly.
“It does not mean I trust you again.”
The old defensiveness pushed against his ribs.
He wanted to tell her that he was doing everything she had asked without her having to ask.
That he was going to therapy. That he hadn't missed a single day with Sophia.
That he had stopped calling when Jessica asked for space.
That he had rearranged his work. That he was trying so damn hard.Then another thought followed.
So what? None of that changed an operating room. None of it gave Jessica back the hour when she had been terrified and he had chosen not to come.
Alex looked at the table. “You’re right.”
Jessica exhaled. “Alex.”
“No. You are.”
He looked at her.“I wanted you to see it and think I was becoming someone you could come home to.”
Her eyes filled slightly.
He kept going because stopping would turn honesty into another strategy. “But if I only do any of this because I think you’ll come home, then I’m still making you responsible for what I become.”
Jessica looked away.
Alex’s voice lowered. “I don’t know how to do this without wanting you back.”
“I’m not asking you not to want me.”
Silence settled. Jessica stirred her soup. Alex watched her. He could tell she was tired by the tiny crease between her brows. He didn't ask.
She looked up. “You don’t have to stop traveling completely.”
“I’m not.”
“Good.”
“Would you care if I did?”
She considered. “That isn’t my decision anymore.”
Alex looked down. The sentence hurt. He accepted it.