The elevator doors open. I step inside and turn to press the button for the lobby. Just as the doors close, Aiden looks up. Our eyes meet.
And then he’s gone, leaving me with forty-one seconds to cry my heart out as the elevator carries me away from the man I love.
Chapter Fifteen
Seraphina
One day later
ITILT MYhead back. Savor the warmth of the summer afternoon. Try not to think about my computer sitting on my parents’ kitchen table and the email I sent ten minutes ago.
“Dear Mr. Hawke, I am tendering my resignation, effective immediately. I appreciate the opportunity…”
He won’t reply. Which is for the best, I remind myself for the hundredth time. We’re incompatible. The family issue is a no-brainer. I want children. Aiden doesn’t. That he didn’t want me to go matters. But if I’d stayed for any length of time, I would have placed myself back into a relationship with an unequal balance of power. One where I would be adapting myself and my needs to someone else’s wants and comfort.
Walking away from Aiden was the right choice. Maybe, one day, the logic of my choice will make the heartache easier.
As soon as I walked into my apartment, I called my mom. I managed to choke out that Aiden and I had broken up. Three hours later we were driving out of New York City and up to their home on a quiet street in Millbrook. Mom didn’t ask questions or pester. She simply drove with my favorite songs playing and one hand wrapped gently around mine. Dad was waiting when we got home. And they both did what they did before. Loved me. Supported me.
“Here we go.”
I turn and look over my shoulder, smiling as my mother walks up to the picnic table with a glass in each hand.
“What’s that?” I ask as I nod to the flutes.
“Your father brought back several bottes of gin from a distillery in Kansas City.” Mom rolls her eyes as she sets the glasses down on the table. “Apparently his next career is going to be a bartender. We have here the French 75, a champagne cocktail with gin and lemon.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
I swallow past the tightness in my throat as I slide off the swing and walk toward the table. “It’s three o’clock in the afternoon.”
“And you did something important.” Mom hands me a glass and clinks hers against mine. “Something that warrants an early drink.”
Heat pricks my eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”
We sip our cocktails, the sweetness of champagne and tartness of lemon eliciting sighs of appreciation from both of us.
“Will Dad be back in time for the exhibition on Thursday?”
“He wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Mom smiles. “I’m so excited for you.”
After I left Aiden’s penthouse, I went straight to Obsidian. I danced for an hour, doing tricks with my staff, then my sword. I took it slow since it had been over a week, but I slipped back into it like I’d never left. Jessica stopped by to check on me. If she noticed my missing engagement ring, she didn’t say anything. But she did surprise me with an invitation to dance at their exhibition on Thursday. Cirque Obsidian’s first in-house event showcasing their students and instructors.
I almost said no out of habit. But when I thought about all the adventures I’d taken in the last week, from getting engaged to my boss to dancing at a Venetian masquerade, dancing in front of a couple hundred other students didn’t seem so scary.
And it gave me an opportunity to correct a mistake. I invited my parents to attend.
“I…” I swallow hard. “I know I put you and Dad through hell—”
“Darling.” Mom cuts me off, her voice firm and loving. “We loved you through all of it. Love isn’t just about the good moments.”
I think about Aiden, the pain in his eyes when I told him I couldn’t be with him anymore. Grief chokes me. I know I made the right choice, but it only seems to make the pain worse.
“I…” I press my lips together, get myself back under control. “Aiden…”
“You love him,” Mom says softly.
“I love him so much it hurts.” My voice breaks on the last word. “It hurts so much, Mom. I had a crush on him for the longest time, but it was safe, you know? He was my boss, there was no risk, I could just admire his…well, his—”
