Page 81 of The Billionaire Invitation

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was like he was saying everything except the word love. Could he not admit it, or was it that he didn’t feel it?

At the end of the day, it didn’t matter. If he hadn’t come to this conclusion on his own, what was the point?

“It’s my fault,” she said. “I started expecting more. I didn’t want to give you an ultimatum like you gave me eight years ago.”

“I never gave you an ultimatum.”

“What would you call asking me to move to LA with you or else we break up?”

“I offered you a choice to do what you wanted to do, which you did by the way. You stayed in Chicago. I left.”

“I’m aware.” If she’d held out any hope that he’d see the error of his ways, that was long gone now.

She would never deny that they’d had a connection at one point. They had been in love, but the way they’d defined it at the time was different than the way they defined it now.

She tried to talk the tears in her eyes into retreating. A battle she was losing.

“Not once did you say you wanted more,” he said quietly, as if it had just dawned on him that more was possible.

Why were men so concrete? He hadn’t seen her love for him on her face or felt it whenever they were together? He didn’t feel it radiating from her at this very moment?

“I have good news for you, actually.” She pulled her phone out of her purse and scrolled to her Notes app. She cleared her throat. “I don’t want you to be beholden to Long Live Food when you have a life to return to in California. So Gabby and I have restructured the launch. You don’t have to be involved.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m not. I can do it without you. You’re no longer under any obligation.”

“You mean you don’t want me.”

She did. She wanted him with a ferocity that frightened her. But she wouldn’t beg.

“I have it under control.”

“I see.” He stood, reached for his wallet, and slapped a one-hundred-dollar bill on the bar. “Glad we ironed that out.”

“Dante, you don’t have to⁠—”

“Leave? I think you made it clear that is exactly what you want me to do.”

“It’s easier if we button everything up before you go.”

“Right.”

“There’s no reason we can’t still⁠—”

“Be friends?” His eyes went to the ceiling. He emitted a humorless chuckle. “And be held at arm’s length, or communicate via our assistants? No thanks.”

“Don’t make this any harder.”

“No need. You’ve done that for me.”

That was the last thing he said before he walked out the door.

Honesty’s vision blurred when the tears came. She hadn’t wanted to end it, but she’d made herself a promise. If Dante didn’t lead with a profession of love tonight, she would cut her losses.

She’d done the right thing. If theirs was nothing beyond a working relationship, she couldn’t allow herself to keep hoping for more. Now she could accept what was staring her in the face.

It was over between them.