“You didn’t come back for me. You didn’t want me. Didn’t love me enough to come back.” The tears leaked past her lashes and trailed down her cheeks in a searing, damp path. “You never came back for me,” she cried, breaking. Crumbling. Her knees buckled as she sobbed, losing the battle against the years of pent up grief and hurt and loneliness.
Swearing, Griffin swept her up in his arms, cradling her in his lap and against his broad chest. How long she cried, she didn’t know. But the entire time, his strong arms remained around her, rocking her, as he murmured nonsensical things in her ear, pressed soothing kisses to her hair and forehead. And when the fury eased, he continued to hold her, only leaving her once to wipe her face with a warm washcloth.
“I’m sorry.” The emotional storm had taken a toll on her voice, the rasp hoarse in the silent room and tender against her throat.
“Never apologize to me for that, Hayden.”
She lifted her head, met his gaze. Though no moisture clouded the blue depths, he sounded as harsh and rough as she did.
He swept the pad of his thumb over her swollen eyelids, down her still damp cheek and trembling mouth.
“I love you.” The quiet statement echoed in the room, the power of it rippling like a boulder thrown into a still, placid lake. “I’ve always loved you. First as a boy, a friend, and then as a man so terrified of fucking up the one precious thing in his life, he chose to leave rather than ruin her. Before I ever took your body, you stole my heart. It’s only ever been you. It will only ever be you. From the moment you came up to me at seven and smiled like I was the most important person in your world—like I was your world—I was yours. You loved me not because you had to, not because of my name but because you wanted to. You loved me unconditionally, fuck ups and all. You were—are—the one pure, good thing in my life. Proof that I’m not the selfish, spoiled screw up ‘spare’ that I’ve always seen myself as.”
He tunneled his fingers through her hair, cupped the back of her skull as if she really were the precious thing he called her.
“What I told you was true. I did try to call you, and when I couldn’t, I convinced myself my decision had been right. Because in those moments of weakness, if I had reached you, I would’ve said to hell with sacrifice and not fucking up your future. I would’ve begged you to come to me, to forgive me. To love me. Like I’m doing now. Hayden.” He sighed, and she fisted her fingers against the urge to soothe away the weariness in the heavy sound. “You’re wrong. I came back for you. When you walked up to me in that bar, you sealed your fate. I stayed away all those years because I loved you, but when you found me, all bets were off. Joshua gave me a convenient excuse, but property or no property, I would’ve come for you.”
A vise tightened around her heart, and the traitorous organ stuttered against her rib cage. But fear—oily, pervasive fear—coiled around her tongue, stilling it. Invading her and choking her.
“You don’t have a reason to trust me, to believe in me. And I know in my desire to give you everything you deserved I hurt you. Broke your heart. But, baby, take that step toward me and let me put it back together. Yes, I’m asking you to leave your home, your job, your plans. But I’m not asking you to depend on me for your happiness. I’m asking you to depend on us for it.”
He lowered his head, brushed a kiss over her lips and pressed his mouth to hers for a long breath. Then he gently lifted her from his lap and walked out of the room. Headed to the bedroom where he would pack his bags and leave.
Again.
But unlike last time, he wasn’t abandoning them.
She was.
12
“Dad told me you were resigning. I didn’t believe it, so I had to come see for myself.”
Hayden glanced up from the desk drawer she was emptying of the personal items she’d collected over the years she’d worked for Joshua. Josh stood in front of her desk, staring down at her, a dark eyebrow arched. She hadn’t seen him since their exchange at the charity gala two weeks ago. The gala she’d attended with…
Swallowing hard, she skidded away from that thought. It’d been a week since he’d left for Florida, and she could barely think his name much less speak it.
Shrugging, she placed a spare make-up kit and handheld mirror in the cardboard box on top of her desk. It was after five, and the Sutherland Industries executive office had emptied of employees. Even Joshua had left an hour ago for a meeting. So much for packing up and escaping without a confrontation.
“Yes, it’s true.”
A corner of his mouth kicked up, but those fathomless dark eyes, so much like his father’s, remained on her, shuttered.
“I would say this was a surprise, but then I would be lying.”
She paused, the framed picture of her and her mother in hand. “I’m sorry?” She hadn’t decided until last night that she was quitting, so how had he guessed?
“I figured when Griff returned it would only be a matter of time before you left.”
The shaft of pain stole through her, quick and bright. She froze, regulating her breath so every lungful didn’t feel like a handful of razors slicing her open. After a moment, she carefully resumed her packing, placing the picture in the box, her fingers lingering over the glass.
The morning after he’d left, she’d been stunned to realize she could move, could function. The grief and loss formed a lodestone in her chest, so huge she had to work to breathe around it, but… But she hadn’t been shattered.
While the bright morning sun beamed into her bedroom windows, she accepted that she was no longer that vulnerable, young twenty-one-year-old. At some point in the five years she’d strengthened, had learned how to survive even when a hole had been carved out of the place where her heart used to be. She was stronger, and she could—shewould—make it. She had no choice.
Being happy was another matter altogether. Strength apparently didn’t equal happily ever after.
“I hate to disappoint you and your father, but I don’t base decisions concerning my life around Griffin.”
