Page 66 of The Husband I Left

“That would require movement,” Leo says without opening his eyes. “I’m conserving my energy for the next course. Because that—“ he gestures vaguely in the direction of the kitchen, “—can’t possibly be the only thing you planned to feed me.”

“There is no next course,” I mutter, scraping the scorched rice into the trash can. “I planned fajitas. That’s it.”

Leo finally sits up, looking at me with mock concern. “So we’re going to starve then?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, just order a pizza.” I drop into an armchair with a groan.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Leo pulls out his phone. “I’ll order now. Any requests? Besides, ‘make it quick, I’m starving’?”

I don’t answer him, too busy looking around and wishing I’d bought new furniture when I moved. The couches and chairs from the penthouse look slightly ridiculous in their new environment.

Leo finishes placing the order, drops back on the couch, and closes his eyes again. “Look on the bright side,” he finally says. “Things are going brilliantly so far.”

I snort, running a hand over my face. “Brilliantly? I set my kitchen on fire.”

“It wasn’t on fire,” Leo corrects, waving a hand dismissively. “It was just very, very smoky. And anyway, that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean, with Genny.”

My head snaps up. “What about Genny?”

“She just seemed really happy to see you,” Leo says innocently. “Not freaked out at all. She was obviously thrilled that you are now neighbors.”

“Yeah, right. She was so thrilled she practically ran away from me at the grocery store.”

“Well, yes, I suppose that did happen. But at least she got to witness the great Oliver Sinclair, former heir to the Sinclair fortune, shopping for his own dinner. That’s the kind of character development that makes for good storytelling.” He grins.

“Isn’t there someone else you can go bother?” I ask, not bothering to hide my irritation.

“What, leave my best friend to navigate his first days as a commoner all alone?” Leo smiles sweetly. “Never. This is way too entertaining. Besides, my pizza isn’t here yet.”

I groan again, louder this time. Leo laughs, the sound echoing in my sparsely furnished living room. Besides the couch and chairs from the penthouse, I didn’t bring much. I’ve always hired someone to decorate my living spaces in the past and now have no idea how to make this small apartment look more homelike.

After a minute, Leo sits up, swinging his legs to the floor and fixing me with a serious look that seems out of place on his normally mischievous face. “This is all very amusing,” he says, “but what do you actually hope to accomplish here?”

I blink at him, thrown by the shift in tone. “What do you mean?”

Leo gestures at the surrounding apartment. “Look, I get that you wanted to make some grand gesture to prove something to Genny. But with your background and education, you’re going to get any job in corporate America that you want in a heartbeat. And even with your father cutting you off, you have enough money that you’ll never truly struggle.” He leans forward. “So I’m just wondering what you’re hoping to prove. What’s the endgame here?”

I don’t answer right away. The question hits uncomfortably close to thoughts I’ve been avoiding since I walked into my father’s office and told him I was quitting. Leo waits patiently, his eyes fixed on my face.

What am I hoping to prove? The question sends me back to that terrible night at the restaurant, Genny’s face across from me, those green eyes looking straight into me as she asked me if I’d ever made sacrifices for someone I loved.

“I need to prove to Genny that I can make sacrifices,” I say finally, the words feeling inadequate even as I say them.

Leo raises an eyebrow. “By… learning to cook? By giving up the penthouse? What exactly are you sacrificing here, Oliver?”

“Before…when we were married… I held all the power in that relationship. I was the billionaire who had plucked a waitress out of obscurity, and now she was living a life that she could only dream of previously. And part of me liked that. I liked being the one who provided. I liked that…I guess part of me felt like she should be grateful. I’d picked her when I could have had anyone. I think the only way I have any chance of getting her back is if I leave all that behind and come to her on an even playing field. And hope she chooses me this time.”

Leo studies me for a moment. “Have you been reading self-help books?”

“What? No.”

“Going to therapy?”

“Well, I am impressed. The Oliver Sinclair I knew wasn’t capable of that level of self reflection.”

“Fuck off,” I snap, and Leo just chuckles.

We sit in silence for a moment, the only sound the whir of the fans and the distant honking of horns from the street below. Finally, Leo shifts, reaching for his phone. “Seems like you still have competition,” he says casually, checking the screen. “I wouldn’t have thought Evan would still be hanging around by now.”