Chapter 42

CHAPTER 42

MARLOW

I had assumed Spencer lived at the top of some skyscraper in a fancy penthouse. Instead, I found myself in an older building in Manhattan, filled with character and charm. The space was warm and inviting, with a mix of vintage and contemporary furnishings that gave it a unique personality. It felt like a home, not something sterile or pretentious.

"You have a nice place," I said.

"Thank you." He nodded. "Would you like the two-cent tour?"

"I have a feeling it's a lot more than a two-cent tour." I smiled, taking another sip of my whiskey.

The drink was smooth and went down way too easily. But it was working. My nerves were calming, and I had stopped shaking.

We walked through the various rooms, starting with a cozy living room with plush armchairs and a fireplace, leading to a spacious kitchen with high-end appliances and a large dining table. There was even a small office space with a large desk and bookshelves lining the walls.

As we continued the tour, I couldn't help but notice how much attention to detail Spencer had put into creating his space. Each room had its own unique style and charm, while still fitting together seamlessly as a whole. It was clear that this wasn't the typical bachelor pad. I could see the pride in every corner.

He showed me his home gym. I immediately imagined him hot and sweaty and shirtless while he worked out. His bedroom was, of course, large and full of dark mahogany furniture.

"Now, I'll show you the best part of this place," he said.

We walked to a spiral staircase with him going up first. I followed behind him. He pushed open a door and I immediately saw the night sky, but I didn't feel the blast of cold air like I expected.

"This is all yours?" I asked with surprise.

"Yep."

His balcony extended over the entire rooftop. There was a glass dome that kept the weather out. It was breathtaking. He opened another door in the glass dome. We stepped out into a seating area off the side.

The balcony offered a panoramic view of the city. I inhaled. The chill air felt good on my flushed skin. "This is stunning," I said. "Incredible. Do you spend a lot of time out here?"

"This is where I come when things feel heavy," Spencer said, gesturing to the space around us. The night sky was clear, and the city lights twinkled around us like a sea of stars. From our height, I could still hear the sounds of the city below but they weren't quite as abrasive from up there.

I smiled, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. "So, you come up here every day?"

He chuckled, a sound that felt surprisingly warm. "Basically. Although I suppose it hasn't helped much. Maybe I need a stronger remedy for my problems than a New York City rooftop."

I turned to look at him, seeing a different side of Spencer. "Yeah?"

"I'm angry all the time," he said as we walked back into the glass dome. He closed the door and latched it. The dome provided a shield from the cold without blocking the view of the sky above.

"Why?" I asked him.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I know I've been taking the anger out on everyone in my life. I've always done that. This is why a lot of people don't stay in my life unless they are tied to me by obligation, like my partners."

"They're your friends first," I said gently. "You're the one pushing them away, not the other way around."

He shifted, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "Trust me, they're putting some distance between us."

"They seem to be very interested in keeping you at the company," I reminded him.

"Not really."

"Don't do that," I said. "Don't diminish the friendship you have. Trust me, I was in that office listening to the rumors and conversations. People are worried about you."

"Worried about me or worried about me going off on them?" he quipped.

"Both," I admitted, choosing to remain honest. "You've been a bit unpredictable lately."

"That's a nice way of saying I was a prick. I know." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not oblivious to my own temper, but sometimes it feels like something else is controlling it, you know?"

"Like an uncontrollable rage?" I offered reluctantly.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. "Like that."

We fell into silence after that, each of us lost in our thoughts and the sheer beauty of the New York skyline. It was strange seeing Spencer like this, so open and vulnerable. He took my hand and led me to the wicker sofa. The seating area under the dome was neatly arranged. A sofa, several chairs, and tables with a rug in the center. A patio heater was in the corner. He grabbed a remote and turned on the fire pit in the center. The rectangular table lit up with soft orange flames. The heat immediately washed over me.

"Want a refill?" he asked.

"You don't need to go all the way downstairs," I said.

He grinned. "Wasn't planning on it."

He took my glass and walked to a small wicker bar that I hadn't noticed earlier.

I laughed. "You have a bar up here?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "Like I said, I spend a lot of time up here."

He poured a generous portion of whiskey into my glass and then filled his own. As he walked back to me, I couldn't help but admire the easy grace with which he moved. The last few weeks, that walk had been tense and stiff, like he was marching into battle. It was good to see him relaxed again.

I took the offered glass and leaned back against the cushions. We sipped quietly for a few moments, the flickering light from the fire pit dancing around our little bubble.

"How are you going to handle Rhett?" he asked after a while. "Or do you want me to set him straight?"

I sighed, shaking my head. "No. I don't know what to do. I can't fathom why he would do something like this after how clear I've been about Dakota. Rhett hates conflict. He just wants us to talk it out so the dust can settle. But he doesn't understand that there's no talking to Dakota."

Spencer took a drink and nodded.

I gazed out across the city, the lights shimmering all around us. My gaze drifted to the flames coming out of the table. Watching the fire was so relaxing. It was mesmerizing.

"We used to be able to talk through anything," I breathed. "But all that changed, and now he just wants to tell me how to act and who to be. He wants me to be the girl he created in his head. He hates me." My eyes filled with tears again.

"I don't think he hates you."

"Why else would he treat me like this?" I asked. "Look what he did to my kitchen. That's not love. He wants control. He might love the woman I was ten years ago, but he hates the woman I am now."

Spencer was quiet for a long time, nursing his own whiskey as he stared at the dancing flames. He seemed deep in thought as he worked on how to respond. Finally, he turned slightly to face me, his features softened by the flickering light of the fire pit.

"I think people change with time and experiences, it's inevitable." He paused for a beat. "Dakota is just struggling to keep up with your evolution. It's not so much hate as it is fear."

"Fear?" I questioned, looking at him quizzically.

"Yes." He nodded. "Fear of losing you, fear of not being good enough."

"He already lost me," I said firmly.

"But he's desperately clinging to the idea he can get you back apparently," he said.

I shook my head. "Never. There was zero chance before tonight, and now, there's even less. It's a negative chance, which is math I don't even know how to do." I took a drink. "But now I have to wonder what comes next. Is he done? Is he going to go after my shot glass collection next?"

Spencer wrapped an arm around me, kissing the top of my head. "Dakota is gum on the bottom of your shoe, Marlow. If Rhett can't deal with him? The law will."

I didn't want to go that route, but it was starting to look like I might not have any other option. I leaned into Spencer, grateful for his support and strength. I needed it more than I realized.

"I don't understand why he's suddenly decided he wants me back," I said.

"Men are stupid."

"What?" I asked with a laugh.

"We're stupid. We don't see shit right in front of us. We're slow. It takes us a while to really get it. I think he just realized how successful you are. He's pissed that he's not the guy beside you."

"That sounds petty," I murmured.

He chuckled. "Men are often petty, Marlow. Especially when it comes to our egos. We don't like to see someone we once had control over doing better than us."

I turned to look at him, surprised by his honesty. It wasn't often that men confessed such things. "Are you like that too?"

He met my gaze for a moment before shrugging noncommittally. "I'd like to think I'm not. I certainly try not to be. But who knows? Maybe under certain circumstances, I could be. I'd like to think I would support my wife's success. I support you being successful."

"I don't think you're anything like Dakota," I said. "Not even a little. You built a company. You have goals and a purpose. Dakota is lost and insecure. Nothing like you."

"Thanks."

We stayed up on the roof, wrapped up in each other. I wondered what he was thinking about but didn't dare ask. Our relationship felt so fragile and unpredictable. I didn't want to spoil such a perfect moment and I couldn't take another ounce of drama tonight.

The evening was not what I had planned. In a million years, I never thought I would find Dakota in my kitchen at my brother's invitation.

Internally, I worried about going home now that Dakota knew where I lived. The thought of him showing up unannounced filled me with dread. As if reading my mind, Spencer broke the silence.

"I'll go to your place tomorrow and change your locks. Maybe install a security system for good measure, too."

"Spencer…" I trailed off, looking up at him.

His gaze was intense, pulling me in. "It's okay, Marlow. I've got you."

Those words wrapped around me like a warm blanket. For the first time in a long while, I felt truly safe.

"If you don't want to go home, you're free to stay here," he offered. "I've got a guest bedroom. I'm not suggesting anything more than you having somewhere to stay."

"I'll be okay," I said. "I think. I don't know. This is just so wild. And my apartment. What if he smashed the hell out of everything?"

"I'd like to think Rhett would stop him," he muttered. "If he didn't, Rhett and I are going to throw down. I still can't believe he invited him in there. Is he really that stupid?"

"Rhett is stubborn. He thinks Dakota and I are some star-crossed lovers. He doesn't seem to get it through his thick skull I don't love Dakota. Hell, I know Dakota doesn't love me. You would think Rhett was breaking up with Dakota. I have never told him not to be friends with Dakota. I just don't want to be friends with him."

"Rhett has always had a difficult time seeing things beyond his own perspective," Spencer said quietly. "But inviting Dakota into your home is a leap I didn't think he was capable of."

I sighed and rested my head against his shoulder. "I just don't understand why he can't see it from my point of view."

"Some people only see what they want to," he replied.

"Well, I guess I'm going to have to make him see it," I said.

"Good plan."

We sat for a while longer before going back downstairs. He gave me a pair of his sweats and a T-shirt to sleep in. He tucked me into bed in the guest room and left me be. I closed my eyes and tried to process everything that had happened. I still couldn't believe any of it.

At least the night had ended much better than it started.