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“Love. Not loved. This is still me and this is still you. A fucking certificate doesn’t change anything.”
“Yes, it does. A certificate changes everything.” Alice shakes her head, tears streaming down her face.
Her mom sees that something is happening and rushes over, but Alice just pushes her away before walking through the crowd.
And then she’s gone out the door.
“Don’t you dare go after her, you fucking asshole,” Peter warns me.
“You don’t understand,” I try to explain. “It isn’t like that. It’s a whole legal mess––”
But her dad raises a hand to cut me off, shaking his head at me.
I can’t stand around and justify anything to these men.
I just need to find Alice.
I need to explain.The concierge won’t tell me what her room number is.
Her family certainly won’t either.
She doesn’t answer her phone. Doesn’t respond to my texts.
I try knocking on random doors at the hotel, but the manager tells me I have to stop waking up guests or I’ll be kicked out.
I don’t want that to happen. I figure I can stand in the lobby until she comes out of her room because eventually, she has to leave this place.
In the meantime, I pull out my phone and punch in a number.
“Hello, Aiden?” Lewis, my lawyer, is on the phone.
Thank God he picked up, it’s certainly not office hours.
“Hey, it’s an emergency.”
“What kind?”
“I need to settle with Sheila. Tonight. Tomorrow. Just as soon as fucking possible.” The line is silent for a few minutes too long. “Lewis? You still there?”
He coughs. “You sure you’re thinking straight? We’ve been fighting her on this for two years, Aiden.”
“I’m sure.”
“She’s asking for 15 million and a monthly stipend for the next five years.”
“I know. I don’t care. Give her whatever she wants. Fifteen million isn’t even a third of what I own. And I need this done in the next twelve hours. Less, if it’s possible. Find her, get her to sign. Send me the contract.”
I get him the hotel information, tell him where he can fax documents--knowing how essential it is that we get this taken care of before it’s too late.
Fearing it already is too late.
He gives a low whistle. “Why the change of heart?”
I run my hand over my beard. “I met someone.”
“Must be someone pretty special.”
“More than special. I met the woman who is my soulmate. My heart. My everything.”
No more games.
No more make-believe.
No.
I need Alice as mine, no matter what it costs.Chapter FifteenI turn off my phone, lock my door, and take a long hot shower.
This can’t be happening.
I fell in love with a married man.
How could he have done this to me? And how could I have been so blind, so stupid, so naïve?
The part that hurts the most is that it was my father and Peter who told me. Not Aiden. It also means they were right and I was wrong. Aiden isn’t the man for me after all.”
Aiden, who had plenty of chances, to be honest with me.
As I wash away the day, the shower masks the tears that continue to pour from my eyes, I try to make sense of Sheila and Aiden.
Remembering their conversation at the bar, none of it makes sense.
She was engaged. Was throwing it in Aiden’s face. And Aiden wasn’t having any of it.
I wrap myself in a towel, trying to decide how to proceed. I crawl under the blankets, so exhausted, and I close my eyes, telling myself it will just be for a few minutes. I’ve been taking family photos, getting hair and makeup done, played a piece, made love with Aiden... confessed my love to Aiden. Ugh. I roll to my stomach, burying my face in the pillow. It’s all too much for one day.I wake up to someone knocking on my door. Shouting at me. “Alice, open the door. It’s your mother and father. We mean it, open up.”
Groaning, I roll over, looking at the alarm clock, and I’m shocked to see it’s eleven am. I must have really been worn out . I can’t remember sleeping in like this.
“Alice,” my dad calls. “Open the door or we will ask the manager--”
“I’m coming,” I call, standing and reaching for a bathrobe. Cinching the belt at my waist I let down my hair and reach for the doorknob. My feet hit a manila envelope that has been slid under the door.
I lean over for it and then open the door for my parents.
They push right in.
“Alice, we need to talk,” Dad says.
“I know, just...give me a second okay?”
They sit down in the armchairs in my room, and I sit on the edge of my bed opening the manila folder.
“Oh, you haven’t read it yet?” Mom asks.
“Read what?”
Mom and Dad exchange a look I don’t recognize.
Apology?
“Open the envelope, Alice,” Dad says.
I do. When I slide out a stack of papers, my lips push forward as I try to register what I’m holding.
