“Take care of yourself, Thaddeus,” I said, meaning every word. “Regardless of everything that’s happened, I don’t regret a second of getting to know you. Believe in that man who faceddown a bulldozer because that’s the true Thaddeus. That’s the Thaddeus I know. That’s the one I fell for.”
I drank in the sight of him one last time and then called Ziggy to heel. I imagined Thaddeus watching me go. Imagined him running after me, asking for another chance and knowing damn well that I would give it if he did. I really fucking would. My resolve was hanging by a thread.
But Thaddeus didn’t follow.
He didn’t beg.
He let me go.
And I had to respect him for that.
I made it through the gardens and into the glasshouse before finally coming apart. I bundled a worried Ziggy into my arms and consoled myself with his concerned attention. I had zero intention of working. I crumpled on the dusty floor and let the tears flow.
It took almost an hour for the sound of a vehicle to break through the quiet. A minute or so later, a car door slammed and the vehicle left again. Safe to return, I slunk back to the cottage and stood in the silence of the living room, feeling lost.
A muffled bang startled me from my misery. I followed the sound and discovered four beer bottles in the freezer, two of which had exploded. Thaddeus must’ve put them there to cool. Something to go with the dinner he’d prepared, the casserole currently congealing on the cold cooktop. I stared at the forsaken dinner for a long minute before closing the freezer door and emptying the food into the trash.
That done, I walked through the empty house with my stomach in my throat. Our—mybedroom was immaculate. Bed made. Clothes tidied away. New towels in the en suite. It was like Thaddeus had never been there. Never slept there. Never made love to me there.
In the guest room, I found the clothes I’d loaned him folded in a neat pile on the bed. The note on top read,
Ryder,
Thank you for everything. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. It was all my fault.
Thaddeus.
I read and reread the note until the words blurred on the page. I grabbed a T-shirt from the top of the pile, pressed it to my nose, and sank to my knees.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THADDEUS
“Areyou going to tell me what this is all about, or have I walked out on my date night with Lily only to be kept in the dark?” JB shadowed me into my apartment. “Because let me be clear, she’s not happy.”
I couldn’t answer him, struck silent by exactly how much had changed since the last time I’d left my apartment after my life had been turned upside down. Since that day, I’d discovered things about myself I wasn’t proud of and some that I was. I’d found I had more courage than I’d thought possible. I’d met a man and fallen for him, maybe even begun to fall in love with him. And I’d fucked that up as well.
Was I feeling a tad sorry for myself? You bet your arse I was.
“Thad!” JB shook my shoulder. “Talk to me. What the hell were you doing all the way up there in that godforsaken forest? You hate the outdoors. You don’t even own a decent pair of walking boots, for fuck’s sake.”
I dropped my briefcase on the floor, collapsed into the nearest chair, and took a long look around. The apartmentstill reeked of Judd, who’d been responsible for almost all the interior design choices, even if I’d paid for them.
JB was right, of course. At least he was right about the Thad he’d known a few weeks ago. There was a lot of that guy still around, but there’d been some crucial changes as well.
“Grab a beer and get comfortable,” I told him. “It’s a long story.”
An hour later, JB was staring at me like I’d lost my freaking mind. “You have got to be joking me,” he said, slowly shaking his head. “Holy shit, Thad. You leave the city as New Zealand’s answer to Bill Gates and return three weeks later as some kind of environmental avenger?” His face broke into a huge grin. “I fucking love it. Man, that deserves another beer or six.” He pushed out of his chair and headed for the kitchen.
I watched him go, a smile creeping over my face. “Glad you can find the humour in my tragedy,” I shot back. “Did you miss the part where I met a really nice guy and fucked the whole thing up?”
JB returned with a beer in each hand and handed me one. “I heard you. To be honest, I’d be surprised if you hadn’t fucked it up.” He slumped in his chair and held his bottle out for me to toast.
“And what exactly are we celebrating?” I asked, clinking bottles.
“Your possible salvation.” JB took a long guzzle of beer and fell back in his chair. He studied me over the bottle in his hands and said, “This could be the making of you.”
I groaned and flipped him off. “Your sympathetic bedside manner could do with a little work.”
