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“Maybe someone like you can afford to live their dreams,” I reply. “Other people have to work to survive.”
“Anyone can achieve their dreams, Emma.”
“In a perfect world, maybe.”
“Please don’t doubt yourself,” August replies. His earnestness softens me a tiny bit. He’s so keen to not let me walk away from here without receiving a compliment about my dancing. It’s getting hard to fight back.
“And what about you?” I ask, wanting desperately to change the subject. “What about your dreams, doctor?”
“Well, I always wanted to be a doctor,” August says calmly. “And now I am. Working with children is exactly what I’ve always wanted to do, and now I get to do it every single day. I’m a lucky man.”
Our wine arrives, and then our food. We only exchange the minimal of small talk as we eat and drink.
But then I’m finished, and I can’t hold back anymore.
I have to face the truth. I have to tell him what’s been bottled up inside me for years. I have to let it out.
I stop eating. I push my plate away. August puts down his cutlery as if he knows something big is coming. It’s like he’s readying himself for it.
I’ve got to say this...
“You promised that you wouldn’t allow Mom and I to be kicked out of your mansion,” I murmur quietly, trying my best to restrain the sudden onset of tears.
“Emma...”
“You once told me you loved me,” I continue. “And I believed you. It was a promise. And still, you broke your promise without a fight. And it hurt. It really fucking hurt for a long fucking time.”
August takes in a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, Emma, for letting all that happen. I’m so, so sorry.”
I nod once. Twice. I wipe away a tear. I’m still holding a flood of them back.
“That’s all I needed to hear. Thank you, August. Now it’s time to take me home.”
39
AUGUST
I pull myself up on the bar.
One.
Two.
Three.
No more.
I let myself drop to my penthouse floor, giving up on the pullup bar. I can’t do this routine, not tonight. It has already been a whirlwind today, and I am still affected by what was just said at that restaurant.
Emma was quiet on the way home. She barely spoke a word as I drove her back to her place after we left the restaurant. She had said all that she needed to say back between those velvet walls. And I had apologized – a meaningful and sincere apology from my heart. It’s something I don’t usually do, but I know she deserved to hear that from my mouth.
Despite the years apart, I know Emma Tucker too well, and tonight was just proof of that. Our initial conversation flowed like we hadn’t been apart for years. I know her idiosyncrasies and what she might say next - we’ve still got that undeniable connection.
But yet I still don’t know what to think about what happened tonight. I don’t know how to process all that went down between Emma and me. So much of my life has been spent on being the guy in the room who knowsexactlywhat to do, either as a Penmayne or as a doctor, but now I am at a total loss after I apologized and Emma simply wanted to go home. It felt like some kind of resolution, but I still feel like things are somehow unfinished between us.
I turn to face the penthouse floor-to-ceiling windows. I look out over the dark skyline of the city. All these empty skyscrapers. All this space. All this money.
