“That she’s the one.”
I frown.
“You know, ever since you were a tiny little boy, you’ve done this.”
“Done what?” What is she talking about?
“When you were very little, maybe three or four years old, you used to have this little pale-blue pickup truck.”
I listen.
“You loved it. It fit in the palm of your hand, and you always carried it around. It was your pride and joy.”
I smile softly.
“The thing is, Tristan loved it too. He had his own, but yours was the special one. And even though you loved that truck with all of your heart, the moment that Tristan got upset about anything . . . you would give it to him. You couldn’t stand seeing him upset, and you felt responsible to make him happy.”
I frown.
“As you grew up, I watched you do this many times, Jameson, with many things. To the outside world you were aloof and cold, but for the ones you loved, you would do anything to make them happy. You have more heart than sense.”
My eyes hold hers.
“Why do you think that Emily wouldn’t be happy with you?”
I stare at her for a moment as a clusterfuck of emotion runs through me. “Because eventually, I’m going to let her down,” I whisper.
Her face softens. “Jameson darling, how? By working too hard? By being too honorable to your family business?”
I close my eyes.
“I’m in love with a man just like you, Jameson. You know him well, your father. He, like you, is a workaholic.”
“How . . . ?” I frown. “I don’t know how to do both, Mom.”
“Then work it out.”
I stare at her.
“Emily loves you, Jameson, not your money . . . or your company. She loves you . . . just you.”
I drop my head.
“Stop being so damn selfless, and do what you want to do.”
“I don’t know what that is anymore,” I whisper.
“Oh, nonsense,” she snaps. “Tell me something. If you were on a deserted island, who would you want by your side?”
“Emily,” I whisper without hesitation.
“Being in love is like being on a deserted island, Jameson. You focus on them and them only, and you make everything else fit around that person.”
I inhale deeply.
“If you don’t want to travel into the future with her, don’t. But don’t you dare pull away from your own happiness to protect her.”
I clench my jaw as I listen.
“How one man can be so ruthless in business and so giving to those he loves, I will never understand . . . but, the fact that your father is your carbon copy, I know it’s possible.” She cups my face in her hand. “The man I love and the man that the world knows are two very different men . . . and that’s just how I like it. I like that I’m the only one who gets his softness.”
I smile softly.
“I am your father’s world, Jameson; he made it work around the company. Never once have I felt neglected or unloved. I have always come first to him.”
I stare at her as her words roll around in my head.
“The man that Emily loves and the one that you think you are are two very different men. You need to allow yourself to be who you are with Emily and be the Jameson Miles that the world knows. It’s not one or the other like you think it is. The fact that you have put Emily’s happiness ahead of your own cements that she is the one who has been chosen for you.”
“She won’t speak to me,” I whisper.
She stands. “Then make her listen.” She takes me into her arms. “Go and get your love, and grab her with both hands . . . and never let her go.” She kisses me on the cheek and, without another word, leaves my apartment.
My mother’s words ring home, loud and clear.
You need to allow yourself to be who you are with Emily and be the Jameson Miles that the world knows. It’s not one or the other like you think it is.
It’s five o’clock in the morning, and I lie and stare at the ceiling of my living room from my couch. I’m still fully dressed in the clothes I wore yesterday. I haven’t slept all night.
My mother’s words keep going over and over in my head.
She thinks that I can be both the man that Emily wants and the man that I need to be.
As I see it, I have three options. The first is to walk away from Miles Media so that I can be a man worth being with. The second is to let Emily leave my life forever. My stomach twists as I imagine living my life without her.
The third is to try to be both . . . is it truly possible to live as two men?
I stand, and for the first time in a long time, I have crystal-clear clarity.
Fuck this.
I’m going to try, and if I can’t make it work, I will leave Miles Media.
I’m getting my girl back.
She comes first.
Chapter 25
Emily
I close down my computer and pack up my desk and make my way to the elevator. I’m one of the last to leave the office. It’s been a long day, but I achieved a lot. It’s the weirdest thing—blocking Jameson yesterday was the most satisfying thing I’ve done since I murdered his roses.
In some kind of sick and twisted way, being mean to him is releasing some of my anger. Hurting him is like the best kind of therapy. I must really be messed up at the moment; either that, or payback is just surprisingly satisfying. I watched the movie John Wick last night, and I smiled the whole way through it . . . that in itself says a lot about my current headspace.
I take the elevator and walk out onto the street. It’s dark and cold, and I pull my heavy coat around my shoulders for protection.
“Emily,” I hear a voice from behind me.
I stop on the spot . . . shit. Jameson . . . what’s he doing here? I put my head down and keep walking.
“Emily,” he repeats.
I spin toward him. “What, Jameson?” I snap.
“Can I talk to you?”
“No. Go away.” I turn away from him and start to storm to my bus stop.
He follows me as I walk. “I just want five minutes of your time.”
I stay silent.
He runs to catch up with me. “I know I fucked up . . . bad.”
I glare at him as I imagine punching his stupid, handsome face. I get a vision of his head snapping back as I connect the hit.
“Please,” he stammers as he runs after me. “I need to explain why.”
“I’m not interested.” I march forward.
He follows me for a while longer as if not sure what to say. “I’m going to follow you until you talk to me. Can we get a drink or something?”
“No.”
“Dinner?”
“Go. Away. Jameson.”
“I’m not leaving you,” he stammers as he runs to keep up with me.
“You already did. Get out of my face.”
He runs in front of me and walks backward facing me. “I mean, I’m not leaving you again . . . ever.”
“Then it’s going to be a one-sided relationship because I want nothing to do with you. Ever again.”
His face falls. “Don’t say that.”
A man runs into him as he walks backward. “Watch out,” the man snaps as he brushes past.