“How’s everything at Prim?” Sam asked as we walked.
“Oh my god. It’s awesome. Spectacular. Incredible.”
He laughed at my excitement.
“I’m dead serious. Yamina, my boss, keeps talking about the U.S. office that’s set to open, and I think she’s seriously considering me for a director position.” It wasn’t anything she’d specifically said, but something in my gut told me that was why she kept bringing it up.
“Where is it going to be?” Sam asked. “In New York?”
“Yeah, that’s where they’re setting things up.”
“That’s exciting. I’m happy it’s working out for you.” We were silent for a moment as we crossed the street. “Are you still sketching dresses during your free time?”
“No. I’ve been too busy to sketch for pleasure,” I said, which wasn’t exactly a lie. I had been busy, but there was no way I was telling anyone that I hadn’t opened one of my sketchbooks since I had gotten that damn email from Rowan. I hated that a single moment killed my creativity the way it had.
When we got up to the apartment, I opened the door and let Sam walk in before me. He let out a whistle.
“This place is bigger.”
I laughed. “Well, we needed more room. It helps when you’re rooming with an old rich lady.”
Sam smiled.
“Is that Samson I hear?” Grandma Joan called out before she lowered her voice, saying, “Let’s go see for ourselves.”
She carried Miles in her arms as she approached us. He smiled when he saw me, frowned when he saw Sam. They’d seen each other countless times on the phone, but I was sure it was different for Miles to have him right in front of his face. Sam walked up to him and pinched his chubby cheeks softly.
“Hey, buddy, remember me?” he said in a soft voice that made me smile so hard my cheeks hurt. Miles smiled at him before swinging his tiny arms out toward Sam. I pressed a hand to my chest as Sam gathered him into his arms, kissing my grandmother on the cheek as he did. She held both sides of his face and pulled his forehead to hers.
“I’m so glad you’re okay. I’ve been praying,” she said.
“It seems someone heard you.” He smiled. Miles held both sides of Sam’s face when Joan let go and started to slap him.
“Miles, softly,” I said. “Be gentle.”
“I can take it.” Sam laughed looking at Miles. “You trying to beat your uncle up?”
Grandma Joan walked over to me with a look of pity on her face. When she reached me, she brought her hands to my face and brushed my cheeks. “Get a hold of yourself, sweetheart.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying, but the ache in my chest seemed to tighten. I blinked and nodded, excusing myself to use the restroom. I was so thrilled to have Sam here, but it made me think about Rowan and what seeing Miles would do to him. What would he say? What would he think?
When I couldn’t hide anymore, I splashed cold water on my face, took a deep breath and walked back out. Sam was walking in slow circles as he examined Miles as he carried him, scanning his little face. Was it me or was he looking a little too closely? He glanced up at me, giving me a long look. I held my breath. What if he knew? He glanced back at Miles and continued to coo at him. I felt myself breathe a little easier. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if Samson asked me outright about Miles’s father. He seemed pretty convinced it was Cody, and I hoped that for Miles’s sake it stayed that way, because I didn’t really want to imagine having my son around Camryn while I wasn’t around.
Chapter Four
Rowan
Rowan
It had been one year to the day when I saw Tessa again, this time in London. I was speaking to my mother, Camryn, and a woman from a well-known fashion magazine when she walked through the doors of the convention center. My breath caught at the sight of her, or maybe it was an exhale, because for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe. Her brown hair was down in long, shiny waves that I longed to run my hands through. The form-fitting plum dress hugged all her curves, which didn’t even hint at her having had a baby.
Baby.
My breath caught for an entirely different reason, and I looked behind her, around her, but she was alone.
Not wanting to alert my mother or Camryn of her arrival, I tore my gaze from her and joined the conversation again. I kept my eyes on Camryn’s profile. She was in a good mood, the way she often was in this setting, when my attention was mostly on her. It was the only time my attention was ever on her. Over the last two years, the seed of animosity I felt for her had grown into a damn rainforest.
Camryn could pretend all she wanted, but she was as miserable as I was. She reminded me of it every night as she drowned in her wine or when she was leaving to spend the night at her boyfriend’s apartment on Madison. She’d rekindled her relationship with him recently, stating that she couldn’t bear the sight of me or the new beard I’d grown.
“You’re letting yourself go,” she’d said. “You’re letting yourself go because of that stupid bitch.”
That was after she tried everything she could think of to make me react to the fact that she was having an affair. From sending pictures of them together to showing up at restaurants with him where she knew I’d be hosting meetings. We hadn’t exactly stated terms that we couldn’t sleep with other people while we were married, so technically, she wasn’t violating the agreement we had and she wasn’t overly obvious about the affair in public.
I lifted my gaze and scanned the room, finding Tessa again. Her back was facing me, but the woman she was talking to had her full attention. Whatever Tessa was saying must have been worth listening to. I wanted so badly to know what it was. To trade places with that lady and have a moment alone with Tessa. One moment was all I needed. One moment to beg for forgiveness. To ask if we could remain friends. We’d remained friends after we broke up and left for college, and until Hawthorne Industries took over her family’s company, we’d been fine. Yes, this was different. We’d slept together and broke up because I was getting married, but we could still be friends. People remained friends all the time. Why couldn’t we? The thought of seeing her with another man flashed through my mind once more, and I knew why I couldn’t completely pull it off. Seeing her with someone else would kill me.
The next three hours were spent in and out of conference rooms and shows. My mother checked out after the second one, leaving Camryn and me behind to attend the rest of the conference.
“I’m going to go find a bar,” she said after the second demonstration.
“I’ll be here until it ends.” I looked down at my pamphlet. The next presentation was aimed at giving companies run by women in third world countries a chance to get their fabrics out there, and I actually wanted to hear her pitch.
She sighed. “Haven’t we seen enough fabric for one weekend?”
“No.”
“Come on, let’s skip the rest. You can get the details from the pamphlet if you want to contact anyone.” She put her hand on my forearm and looked up at me, her lips forming a smirk as her eyes twinkled. “I’ll make it worthwhile.”
I raised an eyebrow. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t had sex in a long time. Too long. The thought of touching this woman was revolting to me. “I’ll call you when I’m finished. We can have dinner with my mother.”
“Okay.” She shrugged a bony shoulder before leaning in and kissing me.
I broke away before she could deepen the kiss and turned, not waiting for her to walk away before I went into the next room. It was set up classroom style, with small tables that sat two people. I took a seat and listened to the pitch, but my head wasn’t completely in it. I kept looking around, waiting, wondering if I’d spot Tessa again. It wasn’t until it was over that I saw her off to the right, sitting on her own. I headed that way, heart pounding in my chest. She lifted her head as if sensing my presence, her eyes widening when she saw me.
“Is this seat taken?”
; She shook her head, still looking at me as if she wasn’t sure whether I was really in front of her. I undid the button of my suit and sat beside her.
“You look well.”
“You too,” she whispered, blinking and tearing her eyes away from me. I still saw the tears gathering on her lashes.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?”
“Everything.”
“Specifically, what are you apologizing for?”
My heart stopped beating for a second when she met my gaze. “I hurt you. I didn’t want to.”
“Are you saying that because you regret the decision you made?”
“Every day for the last two years.”
“I’m not ready to forgive you.”
“That’s fair.” I exhaled, wondering if I should bring up the fact that I saw her while she was pregnant, saw her boyfriend. Instead, I asked, “Are you happy?”
“I am.” She turned a slow but genuine smile in my direction. It was the smile I had always chased, the one she gave Sam so freely but had kept from me for years. It was so beautiful that it made me jolt every time I saw it. “Very happy.”
So, I did the right thing letting you go, I wanted to say. I did the right thing by letting you walk away from me and right into his arms. I couldn’t, though, because my voice was suddenly stuck beneath a boulder in my throat. I put my hand over hers on the table and squeezed it. She let me. Then I stood and walked away, letting her bask in her happiness. I owed her that much.
Chapter Five
Rowan
Two years later . . .
“I hate you.”
I dodged a second plate thrown in my direction. Heart pounding in my ears, I stalked up to Camryn in the kitchen and grabbed her by the shoulders. “You need to get the hell out of my house.”
She took my nearness as an invitation to lean forward and try to kiss me. I turned my face to the side. Her lips landed on my jaw, which stiffened. I held her farther away from me.
“I hate you,” she cried. “You’re a stupid, emotionless son of a bitch, and I hate you.”
I looked at her. “Are you done?”
“Why can’t you change?” she asked between sobs, her body shaking but I still didn’t give. If I gave Camryn an inch, she’d take a yard. For four years, I’d managed to steer clear of anything that would ignite any idea that this could turn into something more and I wasn’t about to give when I was so close to being free of her.
“I can’t change because I don’t love you,” I said simply. “What’s brought this on? Did Roger decide to leave you?”
She narrowed her eyes, yanking herself away from my grasp. “Don’t talk about my relationship with Roger as if you give a shit about me or my emotions. If you cared so much, I wouldn’t have been with him to begin with.”
“I’m asking as a friend.”
“Well, I don’t need a fucking friend.” She turned around, picked up her purse, and stormed out of the kitchen.
“I need you to get your things out of the closet and make this move official,” I called out.
“Fuck you, Rowan.” She slammed the door loudly.
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, wondering how the fuck I got here. My brother had warned me that I’d be miserable. Tessa warned me that I’d be miserable. Hell, I had known I would be miserable. Still, a part of me figured I would be able to handle it, that it wouldn’t be that bad. Work had kept me busy enough most of the time to keep my mind off all of this, but occasionally, on the weekends when Camryn was out with her friends and I was out with mine, I couldn’t help but wonder what life would be like with a partner. A real partner, one who would share the good and the bad with me, not just ask questions with dollar signs in her eyes. It wasn’t her fault she was like that. It also wasn’t her fault that she prioritized the New York nightlife over everything else. I’d made it that way. I’d pushed her away so completely and let her believe there was no room in my life for a sidekick. Truth was, I had room in my life. I just didn’t want her to fill that space.
I picked up my keys and called the nearest locksmith before heading to the bar where I was set to meet my brother.
When I walked into the hole-in-the-wall bar, I walked straight toward my brother, who was sitting by the window, looking at the people walking by. It was a busier weekday than usual here in Brooklyn, with the new art galleries opening around the corner and everyone gearing up for a busy spring. Sam looked up when I reached the table and sat across from him.
“Still sporting a beard and now you’re dressing down?” He smiled. “Brooklyn’s rubbing off on you.”
“I’m trying to turn over a new leaf.” Truth was, I’d been sporting the beard for a while. What started as a November challenge developed into a newfound love of having hair on my face.
“What does your wife think about this leaf you’re turning?”
“The wife I kicked out this morning? She probably hates it.”
Sam chuckled. “What did she say when you told her to move out?”
“Threw a plate at my head.”
“Shit.” Sam cringed over a chuckle. “That bad? What does she expect? She barely lives there anyway.”
“Right, but my being the one to kick her out makes her feel like she holds no control over the situation.” I shrugged. “You know Camryn.”
“A raging bitch? Yeah,” Sam said.
I shrugged. Couldn’t argue there.
“Have you spoken to Mom?” he asked, humor twinkling his eyes.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” I picked up a fry from the sharing plate in the middle of the table and threw it at him. He laughed, catching it before it hit him in the face.
“I’m just asking. She seems to have a soft spot for Camryn. She must really play it up for her.”
“Not much to play up. I’m sure she runs and tells Mom what a dick I am and how I don’t love her or show her I care about her and Mom immediately identifies.” The waitress came back to set down another appetizer Sam had ordered and I ordered a beer. “Mom showed me who her priority was.”
“I hope you aren’t directing that statement at me,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “You know she only calls me because she feels like she almost lost me, not because I’m her favorite.”
“I never wanted to be her favorite.”
“Mister Perfect never wanted his parents’ approval?” He raised both eyebrows this time. I threw another fry at him, laughing as my beer was set in front of me.
Our mother and I had a series of differences these last few years, and each one had created another barrier between us. We still spoke, but not nearly as often as she and Sam spoke and definitely not nearly as often as she spoke to Camryn, whom she seemed to speak to every few days according to the texts my mom sent me.
“Are you ready for a rebound yet?”
I shook my head, taking a sip of beer. I wasn’t sure whom I would be rebounding. Camryn? That would be a joke considering I was never actually with her. As usual, all thoughts turned to Tessa. Some people were impossible to get over. You could make yourself move past them, but deep down you knew you’d never fully be rid of them.
“You’re right. I don’t think even you could pull a woman right now. You’re a bore when you go out,” he added, holding back a laugh. I shot him an unamused look. “You are. You’re always checking your phone, looking at the time, talking about how early you need to be up.”
“Yeah, well, it’s part of the whole being an adult gig.”
“Like I said, boring.”
I chuckled. “You’re an idiot.”
He smiled. “What happened to the brunette? Mayra? She was cute.”
“Mayra was a one-time thing. You know that.”
Since letting Tessa walk away, I’d only slept with two women. One had been Camryn, a mistake I’d never let myself live down, and the other had been Mayra, the one-night stand, which by definition was a mistake. It wasn’t that I didn�
�t enjoy sex these days but sleeping with them had made it clear that I didn’t just want any woman who would spread her legs for me. I wanted to feel what I’d felt with Tessa and recreating that was impossible.
I’d gladly taken a break from women and focused on the company and on my brother’s health. The last three years had brought us closer than I imagined we would be. Seeing him go through his cancer diagnosis and treatment had really put things into perspective for both of us. Our grandfather had been diagnosed with the same cancer when we were young, but it was different seeing someone you saw as an old man go through it. Seeing your own brother was a tough pill to swallow—the weight loss, the mood swings, both the visible and invisible scars, the defeat in his eyes some days. I’d put all of my energy into being there for him. I couldn’t take the diagnosis from him or do his treatments for him, but I could hold his hand through it all. And here we were. He was healthy, happy, with a new outlook on life. Most days, that was all I needed in order to continue with my own life as if I hadn’t been affected by his struggle. Sam leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair. I watched the movement, wondering how it must feel to touch all that hair after not having any at all.
“What’d you want to talk about?”
“The future of the company.”
He thrummed his fingers on the table, watching me. I’d been working tirelessly not only on expanding it but also on ways to buy it from our grandparents and uncle.
“You mean the accounts in Colombia and Paraguay?”
“No.” I exhaled heavily. “They are still refusing to talk to me because I’m a man and their priority is working with women business owners.
“I thought one of the points of marrying Camryn was so she’d put up a face for the company.”
I scoffed. “If I send her anywhere near those women, I really won’t stand a chance at getting those fabrics.”
“Send someone else. What about Rosa?”
My Way Back to You: New York Times Bestselling Author Page 2
