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“She was fine before you came along. Focused. Driven. Now she’s questioning everything, throwing away everything she’s worked for.”

“Maybe she’s finally figuring out what she actually wants.” The words came out harsh and filled with venom. “Did you ever think about that? Maybe your daughter has spent her whole life trying to live up to your expectations, and she’s finally realized she doesn’t have to.”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“If she’s not talking to you,” I continued, my voice rough with all the liquor I’d been dumping down my throat, “that’s between you and her. I didn’t put any ideas in her head. My big crime was seeing her. The real her. Not the ice queen everyone expects her to be.”

“You were supposed to help her image!”

I laughed again, but there was no humor in it. “I did. Maybe too well.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

More silence.

“She’s not talking to you either, is she?” he asked.

“Nope,” I admitted. “She’s not.”

A long pause. I could hear Lou breathing on the other end, processing this information. We were both on the outs. And we were both suffering. I knew he loved her. He wanted the best for her, but in my humble opinion, he had done it wrong. He made her feel inadequate whether that was his intention or not.

“Well,” he said finally. “I suppose I still owe you your fee.”

I snorted. “Keep it.”

“What?”

“I don’t want your money.” I stared out at the ocean, watching the waves catch the last light of the dying sun. “It was never about that.”

“Then what was it about?”

I didn’t have an answer. Or maybe I did, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. What was the point? Darcy had made her choice. She’d chosen her career. I wasn’t part of that equation.

“Goodbye, Lou.” I hung up before he could say anything else.

I thought about throwing my phone into the ocean. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t make it all go away. Instead, I just set it down on the step beside me and went back to watching the sunset.

I thought about all the things I should have said. Should have done. Should have been.

Maybe I should have fought harder to make her hear me. I could have refused to leave that hotel room until we’d talked it out. I should have made her understand that what we had was real. She mattered more to me than any contract or arrangement or business deal.

But she’d looked at me with her eyes full of panic and fear, and she had called us fake. And something inside me had broken.

I’d meant it when I said it. I still meant it. She’d spent so long being what everyone else wanted her to be that she’d lost sight of herself somewhere along the way. I’d seen glimpses of the real her and that woman was extraordinary.

But she had to find that for herself. I couldn’t do it for her.

Tomorrow, I’d go back to work again. Return the calls. Handle the cases. Pretend to be the competent, charming lawyer everyone expected me to be.

But tonight, I would sit with the pain for one more day. I’d let it wash over me like the waves on the shore. I would let it pull me under, keep me buried, and tomorrow morning, I would get up and be done with the sulking.

If she ever figured out who she was and decided that the life she wanted included me, she could come to find me.

If not, then it wasn’t meant to be.

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