Chapter 6

6

WILL

The plane hits the tarmac with a loud roar as the brakes kick into gear.

I stare out the window, looking at the familiar surroundings. I’d been back in the States for close to two months now, barely stepping foot inside my home state. The majority of the time had been spent in Seattle, with a brief stint in Chicago. Things refused to slow down, and my presence elsewhere was needed more than I would have liked.

The only saving grace is my mind being occupied with business. We were merging two well-known companies and expected the announcement to shake many investors. It is the perfect time for growth. However, it is imperative to move quickly. Dominating the tech industry is still my number one goal. No one is going to stop me, not now, or ever.

If I want something, I will make sure it damn well happens.

The pilot announces our landing and thank god for this private jet. I sold the one in London, used the funds to purchase this one, never ever wanting to fly commercial again. I didn’t bode well around people, especially screaming kids.

The SUV is parked on the tarmac with the driver waiting. I exit the plane and hop into the car, using the time to respond to emails. There’s a text message from my mom, asking me to drop by whenever I have a chance over the next few days to discuss Dad’s upcoming birthday.

Spending time with my mother is draining. The woman is a ballbreaker, but since it is for Dad, I decide to make an effort.

“Jeffrey, I would like to take a detour to my mother’s office, please.”

“Certainly, sir.”

I sit back in the leather seat, resting my head in an effort to de-stress and relieve my worries. It’s Friday night, what many people considered the perfect time to unwind after a long week. I don’t remember the last time I did anything social—everything revolves around work. If I was at an event, it was to network or to make an appearance for business associates and clients.

And since I’d been back in the city, I’ve been staying at the Four Seasons. My apartment is being leased to a college friend of mine, and even if I ended the lease, a part of me doesn’t want to go back to where it all began. The memories are still raw, a hard lesson I learned when I drove past Times Square not long ago.

It is on my agenda to find a permanent place to live in, which prompts me to text my realtor to schedule some showings next week. As for tonight, with nothing else holding my attention, meeting my mother for a quick discussion will be like ripping a Band-Aid off—I need to get it over and done with.

We pull up at the familiar office. I ask Jeffrey to wait around, then exit the car and head straight into the building. It’s been a long while since I visited her at the office, yet nothing at all has changed. The building is still exactly the same, and no doubt she will be pleased with my impromptu visit.

The receptionist is a cute blonde, introducing herself as Natacha, with a C as she so keenly put it. Between batting her eyelashes while dipping her chest so I was privy to her tits—the flirtatious introduction does nothing to stir any sexual desire within me.

“Is Nikki available?” I ask, already bored with her antics. “Please let her know it’s her son, Will.”

“Oh, you’re her son?” Natacha straightens her posture, only now attempting to act professionally. “Please go in. Her office is—”

“Down the corridor on the left,” I interrupt with a forced smile.

I don’t stick around to converse any longer, making my way toward my mother’s office. There’s a slight chill in the air; it catches my attention, if only for a moment. With a knock on the door, she yells for me to come in. As I enter the room, her face brightens at the sight of me.

“Who is this handsome man visiting me tonight?” She stands up from her leather chair, extending her hands until I place my own in hers. “Look at you, all grown up.”

“I was all grown up the last time I saw you, Mom. And that was only a month ago.”

“But now you’re wearing glasses,” she points out with a knowing grin. “The ladies will get their panties in a twist over this.”

I tilt my head with a cocky grin. “Hmm, like Natacha with a C?”

Mom rolls her eyes with a pinched expression. “I should have hired someone with a regular spelled name, so every person who walks through the god damn office doesn’t have to hear it.”

“C’mon, Mom,” I muse, “you’ve been in the game long enough. Rookie mistake.”

She purses her lips, letting go of my hands to caress my cheek, then motions for me to take a seat. I’ve always admired Mom’s office, much like me—she’s a minimalist. Every single item on her glass desk is strategically placed down to her pens being aligned beside her diary.

“As you know, your father’s birthday is coming up.”

“The whole world knows, Mom,” I drag, resting my elbow on the armchair. “You know Dad, everyone must celebrate his life and party like we’re at a keg party.”

“Remind me why I married him again?”

“We’ve been down this rabbit hole, and it’s filled with many things I wish I never heard,” I remind her with a stern voice, willing the unpleasant memories of Dad’s descriptive answer to disappear. “So, he wants a party? What’s new?”

“I’m thinking a weekend away, maybe Cancun? You think you can make it?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Will,” she threatens, reverting to her overbearing motherly ways. “I want more than I’ll see what I can do. Besides, what else do you have to do on the weekend? Or is there someone I should know about?”

I bow my head, keeping my expression fixed. Years ago, when news broke out about my affair with Amelia, Mom surprisingly didn’t say more than two words. It was bizarre, given that she’s opinionated on everything else going on in my life. However, Dad—he had more than enough to voice for them both.

The truth is—all blame was pointing toward me.

I was more experienced and older—therefore, I should have stopped anything happening between us. Then Dad rambled on about the whole “don’t shit where you eat” metaphor. I ended up zoning out. Like I needed any more misery to my already pained state.

As for our family’s relationship, I have no clue whether everyone is still as close as before. Frankly, it’s best I didn’t ask, or all blame will fall onto me once again.

And for the longest of time, the guilt ate away at me. Perhaps everyone was right. I should have been more responsible, and what if my foolish actions caused more damage than I ever imagined?

But the guilt disappeared like quicksand the moment the photo of the engagement surfaced online. Apparently, there was no damage at all because someone is able to move on. Not only did she move on, but she is also committing to someone else for life.

I grind my teeth, clenching my fists only to tilt my head from side to side, cracking the muscles in my neck. The small movement is enough to control my anger, which is starved for attention. What’s fucking new?

“Will,” Mom says, lowering her voice, “there’s something you should—”

A gentle knock on the door interrupts her.

“Come in,” Mom calls, letting out a sigh.

The door creaks open, and oddly so, no greeting from the person entering. A loud sound catches my attention, forcing me to turn around to see a woman on the floor with what appears to be a freshly damaged phone.

My heart stops beating; a lump forming inside my throat as air is trapped and unable to escape. I recognize the hands touching the ground before anything. Soft, dainty, perfectly manicured without the ridiculous fake nails women often wore.

In a panic, my eyes move toward the hair slicked back into a ponytail. The shade is a different color, but that doesn’t stop the sudden heaviness which expands in my core, making everything extremely uncomfortable.

And then, after mumbling to herself, I see her completely freeze. The muscles in her arms tighten; beautiful tan arms I had kissed every inch of with my aching lips.

Then, her eyes snap up to meet my penetrating gaze.

Emerald-green.

Every single god damn emotion I’d suppressed over the years comes back like a tornado ready for destruction. My limbs fall heavy but not as weighted as the pressure inside my chest. I’m frozen on the spot, mesmerized by the beautiful woman standing in front of me.

She’s matured, perhaps thinned out a little on the face. Everything is exactly how I remember; the rose color of her lips, the shade of crimson in her cheeks when she’s flushed with excitement or anger.

The ivory blouse and gray skirt she wears are very sexy, as are the black pumps enhancing her long, lean legs. The same legs I’ve run my fingers along before throwing them over my shoulders.

Don’t think about her that way now. You’re only hurting yourself.

My expression doesn’t waver, neither pleased nor angered, unable to control the numb feeling now consuming me.

Mom breaks the momentary silence, but her words become distant to a haze of noise in the background as my thoughts become overwhelmed by this moment. I catch a piece of what she says, something about Amelia working here in the office and me being back for good.

And then Mom attempts to wrap up the so-called catch-up.

But we weren’t finished.

How can we forget about the diamond ring blinding me inside the room? It’s there on her finger, demanding attention.

Amelia speaks, telling Mom it’s fine. No animosity on her end. Of course not. She’s screwing some college kid and marrying him, all with Daddy’s approval, no doubt. Her life seems to be a bed of fucking roses.

“You forgot to mention the engagement of Lex Edwards’s eldest daughter?” I grit, struggling to compose myself from being completely blindsided.

Mom presses her lips tight into a slight grimace, warning me, before her phone rings which breaks the tension in the room. Amelia continues to sit in silence, eyeing her ring and probably thinking about how in love she is with the Carter kid. Each breath I take becomes more complex than the one proceeding, almost as if someone has their hands wrapped around my throat while attempting to strangle me.

The conversation comes to a complete dead end as Mom informs us she needs to take the call. In a fleeting moment, Amelia announces her departure and practically disappears from the room. Without a goodbye, without a single word.

I wasn’t sure what upset me most, that she ignored me, or acted as if we were nothing. Without saying goodbye to Mom, who appears distracted anyway, I exit the room taking large steps, only just managing to slide my hand in the elevator door for it to open again.

Amelia looks crestfallen as if she can’t imagine anything worse than being in an elevator with the man she once loved. I choose to keep my distance, despite the temptation to grab her face between my hands, pin her against the wall and make sweet love to her body as if it still belongs to me.

But her actions, the ring—it became a vicious cycle with my confidence. One minute I want her against the wall, the next I’m reminded of not being good enough to choose forever with.

Yet my ego can only take so much, so I fucking bite. “So, who is the lucky man?”

Her gaze lifts toward my unrelenting stare. Unlike her quiet demeanor inside the office, her eyes narrow with a hard expression.

“What does it matter?” she asks, angered by my question.

“Because we’re family, according to my mother,” I sneer, deliberately raising my eyebrows. “Surely, I would be owed the respect of knowing who the man is to steal the heart of Amelia Edwards?”

And then she says his name, which comes as no surprise since I already knew this. What I didn’t expect was the puncture to an already wounded heart—the inability to breathe normally, struggling to gasp for air but trying to show absolutely no emotion.

I should be used to this; I’ve mastered the art of a poker face—a much-needed trait when dealing with multi-million dollar contracts and bastards who try to manipulate decisions with their narcissism.

Then something awakens me; adrenaline rushes through my entire body, and this confined area becomes increasingly warm. I cross my arms, jutting my chin with a stiff smile.

“Austin, right. The love of your life. The high school sweetheart, correct?”

“So much for being amicable,” she mutters beneath her breath, crossing her arms in defiance. “None of it matters, Will. It’s been four years. Everyone has moved on, and your mom was right. We are family, so there’s no point dwelling on the past. All is forgotten.”

Everyone has moved on. How fucking lovely.

Well, guess what, sweetheart?

I haven’t moved on.

I still fucking love you.

Her escape from me is quick, but I call her name in which she stops so easily.

Maybe all is not lost, maybe somewhere in this fucked up universe of ours, timing is everything.

I didn’t want to visit Mom tonight. It was the last thing I wanted to do. Yet out of character, I did so unsure of why. Now, I understand that something greater pulled me here.

It’s the woman standing only a few feet away with her back facing me.

A sudden memory came to me of Ashley Stone all those months ago.

“Loving the wrong person is one of life’s greatest punishments.”

How damn true. All those months ago, I thought being apart from Amelia was the ultimate punishment. But now, only a few feet away and untouchable, I realize this is even greater. She’s no longer the figment of my imagination. She is here, living and breathing.

I’d envisioned what this moment would feel like, and in my warped head, it was something special. Amelia fell into my arms and told me she would never let go again.

But the reality is anything but sweet.

It’s bitter, bleak—a slap in the face. It’s the cold wind on a winter’s day. The icy road which causes your car to spin out of control. It’s unpleasant and detrimental to moving forward to better things.

How can I move forward and profess my love when she’s given her heart to someone else?

“I never forgot about us…” I tell her, bowing my head. “So no, all is not forgotten.”

She doesn’t turn around nor acknowledge my words. Instead, she walks away just as she had all those years ago.

And the pain manifests into something greater.

It tears me down, forces my heart to slow down, and seemingly stop beating. Nothing in this life matters, not when she’s running off right now with a high probability of falling straight into his arms.

I have no idea how to escape the turmoil, erase the pain which crippled me into this very spot inside the lobby of the building.

My only coping mechanism is to find something temporarily to make me forget. So, what if I fall into bad habits? I need anything to numb the pain because addiction is a special kind of hell.

And Amelia Edwards is an addiction I can’t seem to recover from no matter how hard I try. Replacing my desperation for her is only to protect myself.

No one else is looking out for Will Romano.

Not even the woman who promised her heart belonged to me, and only me.