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Even though I lost my mother at a young age, I nonetheless had the good fortune to observe her passionate, happy marriage with my father before she died. But what has Reed observed of marriage that would make him believe it’s possible for one to be happy? If I’d experienced everything Reed has, I’d probably have ten layers of cement around my heart, too. Frankly, after reading all this, I’m in awe of how kind and generous Reed is... exactly as Amalia said to me, that time we were cooking together in the kitchen.

I love him so much.

The thought pops into my head and streaks through my heart.

I love Reed. Even though I fervently wish I didn’t.

But so what if I do? I simply have to get over it. Because loving Reed isn’t enough. For our relationship to work, I need to love and trust him. And I don’t see how I could ever get there. Not really. If I were to give Reed another chance, I know, deep down, I’d slowly become jealous, paranoid, and possessive. I’d grow to despise the woman I’d become with him. And he’d despise her, too. Which means it really is time for me to move on.

Ciao, stronzo.

It’s what my brain keeps telling me to do. The thing I know is for the best. Move on, Georgie. There are other fish in the sea. You’re too young to have met the great love of your life, anyway, no matter what your foolish heart is telling you. Yes, Mom met her Prince Charming at nineteen. But Mom and Dad’s fairytale was the exception, not the rule.

I tell myself all of these things, as I stare at the conference room wall in a daze. I tell myself these things and stuff down the urge to call Reed and tell him I miss him. I love him. I forgive him. But no. I can’t wave a magic wand and make everything the way it was before. Even as my heart wants to hug the tragic, neglected, abandoned little boy who grew up to be a wildly successful, sexy, breathtaking man, my brain knows it’s time for me to move on.

Chapter 6

Reed

Tuesday 10:12 pm

I’m grunting. Sweating. Shaking as I finish a savage set of clapping pull-ups in my home gym. Henn texted yesterday to say he’d have something on Gates by Friday. So, at least, there’s that. But regarding Georgina herself, I still haven’t heard from her, other than that one soul-crushing text she sent twenty-four hours ago, after I threatened to call her father.

To entice her to call me, I did something yesterday morning that’s surely going to piss her off when she finds out about it. Hopefully, enough to make her call me and chew me out. Obviously, I’d rather Georgina call me to whisper sweet nothings into my ear. But at this point, I’ll do whatever I have to do to hear her voice, even if she’s screaming at me.

I finish my pull-ups and look down at my phone on the floor, checking to see if I somehow missed a call from Georgina. But, nope. Grunting with annoyance, I grab my phone and head to a workout bench in a corner. But as I’m getting into position with some heavy dumbbells, it finally happens. My phone rings with an incoming call from Georgina!

Gasping like a fish on a hook, I scoop up my phone and briefly fumble with it, like some kind of electrocuted circus clown, and, finally, gather enough control of my fingers to connect the call.

“Georgina,” I blurt, far more enthusiastically than intended. “You’re alive!”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she shouts.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. The sound of her voice, even when she’s shouting angrily at me, is a balm for my tortured soul. “Whatever do you mean?” I ask, even though I know exactly what she means.

“I don’t have a price, Reed!” she shrieks. “Get it through your head. You cannot buy me.”

I feel physically dizzy. I’m a junkie getting his first hit of the good stuff after three torturous days of withdrawal. I sink into the workout bench, feeling blissed out. “What crime have I committed to elicit this shrieking reaction from you, Miss Ricci?”

“You know exactly why I’m screaming at you. My father just called. His email address is the one on record for all my student loans. Apparently, two minutes ago, he checked his inbox for the first time today and discovered he’d received a ‘paid in full’ notification at noon regarding all my student loans!”

I smirk. God, I’m good.

“You can’t pay off my student loans!”

“It appears I can. Quite easily, in fact.”

“I won’t let you.”

“I already did it.”

“Then, undo it. Tell the banks to return your money and restore the original loans.”

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