Again, Hassan made the sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Oh, Desmond,” he said, full of heart that Desmond didn’t deserve. “Matthew really did a number on you, didn’t he.”
Desmond, who had hung his head in shame, snapped his gaze up just as Hassan glanced over his shoulder while they waited at a red light. “Matthew doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
It was a lie; one he’d been telling himself for a while now. Hassan saw right through it. “Mate, he poisoned your mind. I never did like the bastard, but I fucking hate him now for leaving you like this.”
Desmond frowned, not completely certain what Hassan meant.
“Do you want me to swing back and pick up Javier?” Hassan asked.
“No,” Desmond answered, baffled about why he would ask in the first place. “Just take me home. All I want is to be at home, alone, with my plants.”
“Forgive me if I’m overstepping, mate, but that’s the worst thing you could do right now,” Hassan said.
Desmond’s eyes widened. “The worst thing I could do right now is pretend that I’m the man everyone thinks I am. I don’t deserve awards or accolades. I never wanted them in the first place. I never wanted the corner office or the partnership or any of the paychecks that have given me more than I ever deserve. I majored in business at university and jumped into the financial world because it was expected of me, not because I care two fucks about it.”
As soon as the outburst was done, Desmond pushed himself back into his seat, his eyes wide.
“Whoa. Where did that come from?” Hassan asked the exact question he was thinking.
Desmond didn’t know. He honestly didn’t. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized all of the jagged, conflicting feelings throwing themselves around his insides asHassan turned a corner and drove on toward his townhouse had been there for a while.
He’d thought the overall sensation of discontent for his life was just something all men in their thirties started to feel, but since Javier had appeared out of nowhere and given him something else to care about and look forward to, he was beginning to wonder.
“I’m going to quit my job,” he blurted, surprising himself and Hassan both again. “Monday morning, I’m going to go into the office, tell Harry I’m through, pack up my office and leave.”
“Um, mate, are you sure?” Hassan asked, back to looking at him in the rearview mirror.
“Yes,” Desmond breathed out as though catching his breath for the first time after being underwater for hours. “I shouldn’t be in the corner office in the first place. I shouldn’t be in the financial world. I don’t like it. I’d rather do something that helps people, that brings them together, not just makes them money. I should be doing something entirely different with my sorry excuse for a life.”
“You definitely need to think about this for a long time and talk to your boss, and Javier, for that matter, before you do anything rash,” Hassan advised him as they came to a stop in front of his house. He put the car in neutral, then twisted to look directly at Desmond. “That’s a life-changing decision, that is. At least sleep on it.”
“Maybe,” Desmond said, scooting over so he could open the car door and climb out into the cool night air.
There wasn’t any maybe about it. The idea had blasted into his brain like a bolt of lightning, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He’d lived under the shadow of his wrongdoing for more than a year now, and the only way he could truly be free from it was to leave finance entirely.
And confess his reasons why to Harry Pickering on Monday, but that was something he’d think about once he could hold a thought in his head without it driving him mad.
He said goodbye to Hassan then let himself into the house. After tossing his keys on the table near the door, he headed directly upstairs to his bedroom, stripping out of his suit jacket and undoing the tie Javier had so expertly tied earlier. Once in his room, he tossed them both aside, imagining Javier would scold him for throwing his clothes around instead of putting them away neatly. He then moved straight to his bed and fell forward, faceplanted against the duvet, then moaned.
He didn’t know how long he stayed there like that, prone in misery, eyes squeezed shut to block out the terror and consequences of everything he’d done. How the rest of the world could continue on when he’d just smashed everything he’d worked for since university was an astounding mystery to him. Even more baffling was the spreading horror of realizing he didn’t really care about losing his job or the good opinion of the other suits he’d spent the last decade with.
What he cared about was losing his sense of who he was. He cared about having no idea what he wanted to do next.
He cared about losing Javier.
He might have dozed off for a few seconds, because the next thing he was aware of was a pounding on the door downstairs. Panicked, immediately worrying Matthew had come after him intending to gloat or blackmail him and make the whole thing so much worse, he jerked and pushed himself off the bed.
The knocking came again. Desmond shook his head and dashed out of the room and down the stairs. It wouldn’t be Matthew coming to extract his pound of flesh. Not after he’d just torpedoed his career and his standing in the financial world. Doing that meant he was of no use to Matthew anymore.
Which meant the only person who could possibly be at the door was?—
“Babydoll, you’d better have a really good reason you left me standing there in that hotel ballroom with no clue what was happening,” Javier said with a flat frown as soon as Desmond opened the door.
Desmond froze. There was something uncanny and gorgeous about Javier standing on his front steps, bathed in the glaring light of the single fixture above his door, the hint of drizzle that had begun to fall sticking to his hair and the shoulders of his coat like tiny diamonds.
All Desmond wanted to do was to fling himself into his lover’s arms and hold him tight, hoping that he could disappear into the man and the world would be better.
Instead, he flushed crimson, took a step back, and cleared his throat. “Come in,” he said with far too much formality.
