That was how I began.
But not how I became rich.
“Lucky break.”
“Yeah, I’d say.” Justin grinned. “You’re living the dream that most never get to achieve.”
I coughed on a morbid laugh. I stifled the urge to fucking cry. “Yep, living the dream. That’s me.”
The worst kind of nightmare.
Olive...I’ll figure this out.
Somehow.
My daughter had eclipsed everything in my life.
If something ever happened to her...
I’d die.
Plain and simple.
Her place in my life was absolute. She’d been the only reason I’d survived after walking away from O. If I didn’t have her, I would’ve slipped so deep and dark into the shadows, I wouldn’t have cared about anything.
She was the reason I was still functional as a human being.
Take her away for much longer and...I don’t know what I’ll become.
“When you left school suddenly, I figured you’d been given an opportunity you couldn’t refuse.” Justin clinked his beer glass to mine on the bar. “Scored a deal before even graduating, huh?”
My hands clung to my pint glass, squeezing to the point of pain.
Fuck, what am I doing?
I shouldn’t be here.
I should be at my warehouse painting another commission to keep idle hands busy and broken minds out of trouble.
Then why did you say yes to a beer?
Justin must’ve heard my thoughts as he asked, “Look, mate, if you don’t want to catch up, then why are we here?”
I stiffened.
O.
O and Justin.
I need to know.
A crest of history and heartbreak crashed over me, and honesty that I could no longer hide spilled out in a snarl. “How’s Olin, Miller?”
His eyes widened, eyebrows shot up as he shifted uncomfortably on the barstool. I held his stare, not giving him any reprieve.
That was the reason I’d said yes to catching up for old time’s sake.
She was the reason.
The only fucking reason.
I’d lost Olive just like I’d lost O.
The pain of that was brutal...two bleeding wounds in one.
Turned out, I enjoyed torturing myself with unfixable things.
“Olin and I...” It was his turn to swill a mouthful of beer. He was older with weathered lines and age that no longer graced us with teenage youth, but his voice stayed genuine and truthful. “We broke up pretty much the week you vanished from school.”
I froze.
Questions roared for answers. I had no right to ask. She wasn’t mine. But all this time, I’d soothed my agony by convincing myself O was with a guy who would protect and love her—even if it wasn’t me. All the days and nights that I gave my all being a father to a kid who would never have the upbringing I did, I promised myself that Olin was better off without me.
That she was happy...with Justin.
“What happened?” I swallowed hard, fighting to get my voice into some semblance of calm.
Justin rounded his shoulders. “Well, eh, I knew she still had feelings for you. I mean...that was what drew me to her. To help her get over you.”
“Gee, you’re a real saint, Miller. A goddamn hero.”
He held up a hand. “Look, you knew what O was like. She was so sweet to everyone. So kind and helpful. She helped me once when I locked my keys, wallet, phone—all my shit basically—in my car. Everyone else had gone home, and I was stuck like an idiot. She called a locksmith and waited with me until he’d popped the lock. I offered to drive her home but she said you’d be waiting for her. That you’d make sure she was safe.” He whistled under his breath. “Even then, I knew she was head over heels for you. And she deserved to be happy. Not that I understood it. The sweetest girl in school with the meanest boy?” He drank again, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t get that at all. But we were friends, and I was there for her when you made her cry.” His gaze flashed bright blue. “I hated you for that by the way. Thought you were a right git.”
I yanked my hands off the bar, curling them into fists between my legs. “I broke her heart, but you took advantage of her. You jumped straight into her bed.”
True anger highlighted his normally rational face. “Fuck you, Clark. It wasn’t like that. I offered to be her friend, that’s all. To be there for her, seeing as you refused to be.”
My eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that bullshit. I caught you two kissing. I saw your goddamn hand up her top.”
His gaze filled with calculation, doing math on our past and forming conclusions he shouldn’t have. “You sound as if you’re not over her.”
“It was years ago.” I looked away, wishing everything was different. Wishing O was mine, and Olive was safe, and I’d never made such a fucking mess of everything.
Justin muttered, “Yeah, but time doesn’t matter when hearts are involved.”
My eyes flickered to the exit again, weighing up the options of running. Olin wasn’t with him. He couldn’t provide me with any comfort knowing she was happy or safe. She was out there. Alone. Somewhere.
My back tensed. “Why did you break up? If you were such good friends, what went wrong?” My voice had way too much bite, but Justin ignored my temper, being gracious with his reply.
“She was hurting. I’m not going to deny that we kissed a few times or that I asked her out for real. I seem to like damsels in distress. It makes me feel good to help them.” He shrugged. “Still does if I’m honest. I’m with a girl right now, Colleen, who I found crying at a bus stop after her twat of an ex broke up with her at the movies and drove off with her handbag. I took her home, gave her a shoulder to cry on, and asked her out the next day. I dunno how it happens. I see someone hurting, and I have to help.”
“You get off on helping?”
He scowled. “It’s not sexual. It just...makes me feel like I have purpose. Like life isn’t all about me.”
I had no reply to that. How could I respond to someone who I’d nursed a teenage hatred for? I couldn’t hate him because of how genuine he was. I couldn’t despise him for taking O away from me when I’d been the one who pushed her into his arms. They were similar. They were both good people. And I was the bad guy all over again.
I wanted to punch him in the jaw. “O was never a damsel in distress, you idiot. If you think that, then you didn’t know her at all.”
Justin blinked. “Yeah, you’re right.” He took another swig, his beer rapidly vanishing. “After we broke up, O threw herself into dance. Became obsessed with it. You know her parents weren’t really in her life, and the moment school finished, she left and joined a troupe in London. I didn’t see her again.”
London?
Had our paths crossed when I’d lived there with my infant daughter? Had we walked the same streets and not even known it? Had I brushed past her and not realised my soul-mate had been right there?
Fuck.
The gnawing, clawing pain of missing Olive tangled with the hot poker of loss from O. I grabbed my untouched beer and shot it down my throat. Alcohol wasn’t welcome in my world. But my world had become unbearable.
The nights were the hardest while I lay unable to sleep in Olive’s bed, smelling her favourite strawberry body wash, hugging a pair of her small pyjamas, wondering if she’d been fed and hugged, showered and tucked into bed.