Pria: Sorry, I’m not going to be able to make it today.
I
read her text twice, checking the time. Pria is too organized to have a last-minute emergency and cancel one minute before she’s about to meet me. Shit, are the babies okay?
Thea: No worries. Are you and the babies okay?
Pria: We’re healthy and happy. Remember I’m pregnant, that means you should love me no matter what. Oh, and that what I do, I do it because I love you. Enjoy lunch.
What the hell?
Not sure what happened to her during the tour, but ever since Pria came back, she’s reminded me of the troll that lives under the bridge. Every time we have conversations lately, there’s a cryptic riddle delivered with some words of wisdom. Except for today. Today’s riddle sounds like some sort of apology.
“Lunch is on its way,” Laura the receptionist calls me through the intercom.
“Thank you?” Before I ponder where that lunch came from, there’s a knock on my door. “Come on in,” I call out, rising from my seat and searching for my wallet to pay for . . .
As the door opens and I look up into the face of who just stepped into my office, I feel dizzy. My unstable legs barely sustain me as his green eyes find mine. Stunned to see him, I momentarily forget how to breathe or speak.
“Tristan.” His name leaves my mouth the moment I take my first breath.
Out of impulse, or just because I can’t stop my treacherous legs, I rush to where he stands, and he meets me halfway.
“Butterfly,” he whispers, holding me tight against him. I have this quick vision of a cheesy romantic comedy and how close we are to being one right now. Like when the protagonists find one another and run in slow motion toward each other’s arms. Everything is so familiar. His muscles, his breathing, the beating of his heart. That classy aroma of his fills my nose and my mind is flooded with memories and happy moments we shared. Oh, how I missed him. My heart begins to waken and a surge of electricity snaps me out of yesterday’s romantic haze and sets me back where I belong. The present. A time where Tristan isn’t part of my life or my future.
Peeling my body away from his, I gather my wits and set some shields around my heart. But those eyes, they fight my resolve. The sadness they flash are like a hammer demolishing the walls I’m raising.
“Why—what are you doing here?” I ask, waiting for some kind of logical answer. Then I spit the cruelest words I’ve ever said in my life. “You don’t belong here anymore.”
I see his secret smile and, if I’m not mistaken, a steely resolve that I never saw before in those green depths. “But I do,” he responds, shoving one hand inside the pocket of his slacks. “You and I know that I belong.” He touches his chest. “No matter what my mind might’ve thought, my heart knew the truth. Please, Butterfly, before you push me out the door, give me a chance to explain myself. Explain my actions, my decisions, and . . .” He looks around the room as if the answers are going to be scrawled on my office walls. “I didn’t know how to handle things correctly.”
My stomach is in knots as I stare at the man who swore to love me forever, yet when the ground shook the foundation, he ran without giving us a second glance. That remaining shattered piece of my heart still cannot comprehend any of the words he is trying to say.
“We were a unit,” I remind him. “Not an I, but a
we
. We were supposed to handle everything as a team. But you and your stupid hard limit were more important than us.”
He nods, his lips turning up, showing a tender smile.
“Yes, my hard limit will always come first, Thea,” he confirms. “You’re my hard limit, baby. The press was slaughtering your name because of your past, and because of what my sister released.” He touches his temple. “The way I saw it, we had to terminate our triad. Take away the one thing that would fuel the media bonfire. So I made a choice between the three of us, and I chose the two of you. I didn’t want you to face more public ridicule. And I knew that if anyone could take care of your heart, it would be him. And the same goes for him. You’re perfect for each other. It was a painful but easy choice.”
“It wasn’t your decision to make,” I close my eyes for a brief moment as his words hammer the insides of my heart. Sacrificing for the cause sounds poetic, but . . .”Thank you for the explanation, Tristan. I appreciate the closure.”
He walks to my desk, setting the bag of take-out on top. Then pulls a black velvet box from inside his suit jacket and hands it to me.
“I took over Cooperson Corporation.” My eyes widen. My hand holds the box tight, as if it’s the one object that keeps me standing. Pria told me he’d been helping his father, but taking over . . . that I wasn’t aware of. My heart shrinks, assuming that he did it, that he ended up succumbing to his parents’ demands. Marrying Victoria for her company and becoming that man he hated.
Tristan doesn’t stop his explanation. He moved the company from Hartford to Kirkland, Washington. The company’s bringing new job opportunities, embracing diversity, and supporting non-profit organizations that will help people like him. Young people who don’t have their family support and need a hand, a home, or whatever it is they need to help them accept themselves, instead of suffering because of who they are.
“Congratulations. I’m happy for you, Tristan.” I try to inject as much generic warmth as I can into the words but I know I do a crap job at it.
He angles his head slightly to the left, his eyes stare at the box, then lift to find mine. “Forgive me, please. It was never my intention to hurt you, or Matt. Ever.” He takes another step, an arm coming around my waist. “Thea, you’re my light, my life, my everything. But those are only words. I’m ready to let my actions speak for me.”
As his gaze dives toward the box again, I open it finding a crystal butterfly the color of my eyes inside. He bends down and kisses my cheek lightly.
I feel like the room is spinning. This is exactly what I wanted. If Tristan had said these words to me months ago, I would’ve been the happiest woman in the world. But now . . .”What you're offering,” I start in a low tone. It’s all I can manage to keep the tears at bay. “It's exactly what I wanted.” My eyes remain glued to the butterfly that has a couple of tiny butterflies on its wings too. Like tiny babies. “What
we
wanted. But then you left. It became too hard for you, and you left us. You crushed us. We're just getting to where we can finally breathe again. I don't know that we could survive it if you did that to us again."
AJ: Are you busy?
MJ: What’s up?
AJ: Do you have five minutes for a quick visit?
I frown at my phone; this is so unlike my sister. Usually she barges into my office and then asks if I have time for her, if at all.
MJ: I’m free, swing by before four though.
AJ: Remember that I love you <3
Before I can reply the door handle wiggles and the door opens. Right, she forgets to knock on the door more times than not. But instead of my sister, it’s a sexy pair of long legs, wrapped in a three-piece suit, leading up to stunning emerald eyes who walks through the fucking door. Looking hot enough to make me want to have him.
“Hey,” he says cautiously. Our gazes hold for a minute. I’m stunned speechless. He looks exactly the same if not a bit thinner. But he looks good. Confident. Tristan breaks the silence first. “Like the new offices.”
I shrug, waiting for him to spit out whatever he has to say, but instead, he takes another cursory look around my office, stares at the drums, and then his attention lands back on me. What the fuck does he want? To apologize for being a prime asshole? The air inside my office becomes tense. I consider throwing him out before he finally speaks.
“God, I’m bad at this.” He clears his throat. “You see, my mind knows that I brought this shit on myself. But my heart . . .” His eyes meet mine. “It still believes there’s a chance for me to recover what I lost,
who
I lost.”
I knew it.
I shake my head. “You tossed our relationship away.” I say halting his speech right in its tracks. I’m not in the mood to listen to his shit. Not today. I can’t. Too little, too late. “Honestly, Cooperson, save your words. My
wife
and I are in a good place. I appreciate you stopping by, but it’s not necessary. We’re good. No hard feelings.” I gesture toward the door.
Tristan’s eyes search mine, as if he’s trying to find a secret or a clue. “Your wife?” His eyes dim and I feel like a jerk for throwing that word so lightly in his face. “You . . . of course, you married her.” He laughs humorlessly. My heart thunders inside my chest as his pain takes over the entire room. “See, I wanted you to be happy, when I called it off . . .” He rubs his face. “This is what I envisioned, what I wished for—the two of you together and happy.” He shrugs. “I guess I got my wish.”
“It wasn’t easy, Coop.” I swallow the knot clogging my throat. “To move on after you left. But we’re in a good place. I wish you the best from the bottom of my heart, I really do.”
He gives me a half smile but it’s fake. “You’re the best,” he responds dropping his gaze. “You two are the best. Take care, Matt.” He leans in and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before he’s gone.