Homewas a small cottage in the middle of a forest with faded, mismatched furnishings, unruly chickens, a dog called Ziggy, and a man who smelled of bacon and made my heart sing. Just the thought made me want to call Ryder and beg to be forgiven. Which I wasn’t about to do. For all that I hated how things had ended between us, I knew there were things I needed to do before attempting to contact Ryder was in any way feasible.
Ryder had been right to call a halt to things between us. If he hadn’t, I wasn’t sure I would’ve felt determined enough to do what I was about to. The gutted grief that had me in its grip was a necessary reminder of why things needed to change. WhyIneeded to change. Whether I could actually do it was yet to be seen. In the meantime, I didn’t deserve Ryder’s belief in me. And more than anything, I wanted to. I wanted to be the man that he saw, and I was determined to make that happen. Only then could I ask him to reconsider.
Still standing in the middle of the room, I thought about Phillip and almost smiled. He would get the shock of his life when he opened the email I’d asked my lawyer to send. It officially withdrew the previous contract buyout price and replaced it with a much higher one.Muchhigher. After what Phillip had said at the cottage, I was over any lingering sense of obligation for what he’d contributed to the company. He could get fucked, for all I cared. The issue might’ve been of my ownmaking, but Phillip had cost me any chance to make it right with Ryder on my own terms.
And then there was my mother. God help me.
But dealing with all of that was all going to have to wait until I could actually breathe again without crying. Until I’d put flesh on the kernel of an idea I’d had to try and redeem myself in Ryder’s eyes. I’d thought about almost nothing else on the long drive back to Wellington, in between beating myself up and listening to JB’s godawful techno playlist.
I didn’t expect it to miraculously change anything between us, but I hoped it might at least let him see that I’d been serious about the changes I’d told him I wanted to make. Only time would tell. In the meantime, I had a to-do list to begin ticking off, and cleaning the slate was an excellent way to start.
I scrolled up my Rolling Stones playlist, which I hadn’t listened to for years because Judd hated it, and cranked up the volume. Then I grabbed my super-duper chef’s knife from the kitchen I barely used and set about shredding every piece of furnishing in the apartment that I could trace back to Judd, including the artwork he’d bought at some pretentious gallery onmycredit card.
I left the bed untouched since it had come from my old flat but trashed ninety per cent of the linen cupboard, which hadn’t. I threw every 1,000 thread-count sheet and pillow slip into a pile by the front door and jumped on them like a crazy man.
To finish, I took photos of everything I’d done, sent them to Judd, and then blocked his number.
Exhausted, empty inside, and sweating like a pig, I slid to the floor, stopped fighting back the tears, and ugly cried to the accompaniment of The Rolling Stones singing, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.”
No fucking kidding.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
WEDNESDAY—TWO DAYS LATER
THADDEUS
The front dooropened before I’d even had a chance to knock—a combination of my mother’s impatience and my procrastination as I stood on her doorstep. That whole courage thing was taking a bit of getting used to. It was all too easy to succumb to the old voices in my head telling me to be quiet.Respect your parents. Remember what they gave up for you. Don’t make waves about silly things that don’t matter.
Except those things actually did matter. They mattered a lot. Whether Ryder forgave me or not, I wasn’t going to build the life I wanted by catering to everyone else’s expectations.Halle-fucking-lujah.
“Thaddeus!” My five-foot-nothing mother wrapped her arms around my chest and set about hugging the life out of me. When she finally let go, she stood back and ran a critical eye over my frame. “You don’t seem to have lost too much weight, so I guess that’s something.” She tugged me by the hand through the lounge and into the kitchen, talking as she walked. “I’ve gotsome leftover lamb and cheese burek heating in the oven for our lunch. Sit yourself down, and we’ll eat first and talk later. I can’t think on an empty stomach, and you certainly have a few problems that need sorting out.”
Oh God.And so it begins.I did as she said, protesting, “I’m fine, Mum. Really, I’m not hungry.” A comment that drew an acerbic look and prompted me to change tack. “Some burek will be perfect, thanks.”Choose your battles, Thaddeus. Choose your battles.
My mother grunted approval at my backpedalling, and the kitchen fell quiet as she pulled a tray out of the oven and apportioned the meat-filled pastry onto two plates. The unctuous aroma of herbed lamb and melted cheese filled the kitchen, and I was transported back to my youth when my mother always made enough for leftovers at school the next day. I was unusually popular with the in-crowd on those particular days and often didn’t get a bite before the burek was handed around and devoured.
We ate in silence for a while. Well, my mother did. I mostly pushed my food around my plate, trying not to catch her eye. My stomach was a roiling mess of acid nerves, and eventually, I gave up altogether and stared out the window.
My lack of appetite didn’t go unnoticed. With a grunt of dissatisfaction, my mother rested her knife and fork on her plate and leaned back in her chair. “Fine. Come on then.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “Spit it out. Where have you been and why couldn’t you tell me?” She was nothing if not forthright.
She’d opened the door, but it was still so hard to walk through. I pushed my plate to the side, swallowed a drink of water, and then started to speak. I told her where I’d been, what I’d been doing, and who I’d met. I said I was sorry for shutting her out but that I’d needed some time to think thingsthrough and plan for a very different future than the one I’d been sleepwalking toward.
She’d frowned at that but said nothing, a miracle in itself.
I told her I’d met a man who’d been kind enough to let me stay and who I thought I might like to see more of. And finally, I told her that I’d discovered some things about myself and my work that I wanted to change and that I’d made some decisions about that, which she may or may not like but she would have to live with.
Her eyes narrowed. “So, I take it you’re not here to get my opinion on anything, then?”
My gaze remained steady on hers. “No, Mum, I’m not. I’d welcome your support, but your opinion or approval won’t change anything. I’m doing this for me. For my future. For my happiness.”
She huffed, “You’re implying that those things aren’t just as important to me as they are to you. You’re my son, Thaddeus. Of course I want you to be happy.”
I gave a long blink and counted to five. “I’m notimplyinganything, Mum,” I argued. “I’msayingthat I want to plot my own course, for good or for bad, without interference, even from you. I’m saying that you raised me well, but it’s time for me to trust myself and move forward with my life in a way that fits me best, even if it’s different from what you would choose for me.”
My mother shifted uncomfortably in her chair, clearly unhappy. She studied my face, like she was weighing her options for the best way to go about shutting this nonsense down without actually seeming to do that. Eventually, she loosed a heavy sigh and said, “Okay, out with it, then. What are these momentous decisions that you’ve made?”
“I’m selling my share in the company,” I said bluntly, moving on before she could argue. “Either to Phillip, if he wants and can afford it, or to someone else if he doesn’t. Either way, I’m done.I want a change in direction, Mum. I want to build software that helps the world’s problems and doesn’t add to them. I want to feel good about what I do and how I earn a living. And I want to get to know this man I met a lot better, if he’ll let me. I screwed up with him, Mum, and I need to set that right.”
