I remained silent.
“Becca is the perfect girl for you. You’re already in love with her. You’re simply too scared to admit it.”
“I don’t want to limit her life because of my past.”
“You don’t want to risk your pride in case she says no,” Sandy informed me, sat back, and crossed her arms. “Love is worth the risk, Reid. With the right person, it’s worth everything.”
“Maybe I’m not the right person for her. She deserves so much better than me.”
“Right. She deserves someone who isn’t kind, thoughtful, smart, and would adore her for the rest of her life? Who would put her first?” She snorted. “Get over yourself, Reid. For someone as smart as you, you are being shortsighted. Nothing is insurmountable. Ask for help. Let people in.” She drew in a deep breath. “Allow yourself to feel, Reid. The good and the bad.”
Emotion choked my throat and filled my eyes. I stood so fast, my chair tilted, hitting the floor with a dull thud. “I should go. You’re tired.”
She stood and faced me, challenging. “You haven’t cried for Max.”
“Neither have you,” I shot back. Horrified at my words, I grabbed her hand. “Sandy, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean . . .”
“You’re right, I haven’t.”
“Why?”
“Because to cry means it’s real. Max is gone. He won’t kiss me goodnight anymore and call me darling. He won’t tease me about my boys or wake me with sweet kisses.” Her voice wavered. “He won’t be here to hold my hand when there’s a storm and tell me everything is fine. He won’t love me endlessly, because he has ended. The life we shared has ended.”
I could only stare.
“Max’s biggest regret was that we never had children. He’d had a vasectomy because his first wife didn’t want any more children. He tried to have it reversed, but it didn’t work. We tried to adopt, but because of his age, we weren’t approved.” She tilted her head, studying me. “I wish they had given me you, Reid. I would have surrounded you with love no matter how much you cried and screamed.” A tear slid down her face. “I would have shown you how much you deserved to be loved then. Just like you do now.”
That broke me. I wrapped her in my arms and wept. She cried with me, both of us sharing pain no one else would understand. Her tears soaked into my shirt, and mine ran down her neck. Somehow, they helped relieve the ache I hadn’t been able to get rid of for days.
She kissed my head. “I found my kids with you boys. All of you. Bentley, Aiden, and Maddox filled a place in my heart that was empty.” She kissed me again. “And you completed it, Reid.”
I lifted my head, and she wiped my face, her expression gentle. “Don’t let love pass you by because you’re scared or because of the what-ifs, Reid. Grab it. Live it. Life is too short for that sort of regret.”
“I don’t know what to do, Sandy.”
“Yes, you do, my boy. What you have done since I met you. Be honest. Talk to Becca. Tell her your fears and what is holding you back. Let her be part of the decision. Part of loving someone is letting her see you. All of you.”
She shook my shoulders. “Before it’s too late, Reid. Tomorrow is not a guarantee. All we have is now. Remember that.”
I lifted her hand to my mouth and kissed the knuckles. “I’m supposed to be looking after you. Not the other way around.”
She shook her head. “No, you’ve done enough. You all have. In fact, I need some time alone to think. To remember. To figure out my next step.”
“You’re not leaving BAM, are you?” I asked. The thought made me anxious.
“And leave the four of you on your own?” She smirked. “The place would shut down in a month.”
I had to laugh. She was right. A week without her and we were all floundering.
“No. I’ll be back next week. I need something other than these walls around me. I need to find my new reality, but BAM is still a part of it. A big part.” She winked. “Don’t tell Bentley, but I’d be lost without them too.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
She held out her arms. “Give me a hug, and go home, Reid. Or even better, go see Becca. Let her in.”
I hugged her tight, feeling both grateful and sad. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“You have to,” she replied, still hugging me. “It’s what I want.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
She pulled back, cupping my face. “Yes. Be brave. Cherish what you have. Be happy.”
Becca
The constant sound of the rain hitting my window would normally soothe me, but tonight, there was no soothing.
I had never met Max, but yesterday at the funeral, it was obvious many held him in high regard. Seeing Sandy so broken and vulnerable had shaken me. She was always in control—fearless and direct. All the men of BAM had hovered over her, worried and desperate to help, but unable to give her what she needed because her husband was gone.
I blinked away the tears forming in my eyes. All I could see was Reid. His stark loneliness that was so evident in a room full of people. Bentley, Aiden, and Maddox all sought out and stayed by their respective partners. Reaching out to clasp their hands or tucking them close as they watched over Sandy—drawing strength from their presence, allowing them to share in their grief.
Reid stood apart, not talking, not showing emotion, and not knowing what to do. He added more bricks to the wall he was recreating around himself, shutting out his friends, his emotions, and me.
Especially me.
Whatever had occurred—whatever words flipped that switch in his head, I couldn’t fight. The rare moments he would allow himself to relax, to smile and murmur something sweet or funny had ceased totally since the weekend of the launch.
It felt as if he was as lost to me as Max was to Sandy.
I tried to talk to him at the funeral and again today in the office. But my texts went unanswered, and his door remained closed, even when I knocked. I left early, dejected, unsure, and wondering if I had made the biggest mistake of my life coming to Toronto and becoming involved with Reid.
Richard and Katy had warned me of the downfalls of having a relationship in the office. I hadn’t listened to them—instead, only hearing my heart, which told me they were wrong. Reid was different. We were different.
I hadn’t expected his withdrawal when faced with a difficult situation. I knew his past figured in all of this, but how, I didn’t know, and he refused to say.
With a sigh, I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine. My dinner sat, untouched, on the stove, the pasta not temping my appetite in the slightest.
A sharp knock at my door startled me. I reached for my phone, grateful for the security system Reid had installed. I had a neighbor down the hall who loved to “drop in” for a chat and stay for hours, and tonight I was in no mood to deal with her babble. I tapped the screen, expecting to see her face, shocked when, instead, I saw Reid. He stood, head bowed, hands clutching the doorframe as if it were the only thing holding him up. His jacket was wet, his hair plastered to his head. I set down the phone and made my way to the door, opening it.