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Ambrose attempted to entertain the idea.
She’d left him. She wasn’t answering his texts or his phone calls. It felt like his history with Shae was repeating itself, except this time he knew it was his fault. Maybe he hadn’t been engaged to Everly, but it didn’t matter, because his connection with her had run deep—even deeper than things had been with Shae. But no matter how important Everly had become to him, they were over now.
For all he knew, Everly was off playing with other men and sleeping with them. Maybe she even had a new boyfriend. But even if Sindee had been his type, she still wasn’t Everly.
Just thinking her name made his chest ache.
Konstantin groaned and hid his face in Sindee’s hair. “Do you see? He plans on wallowing in his guilt and self-loathing for the rest of his life.” He coaxed the girl up off his lap. “Go to him now and make him happy.”
Sindee recovered her usual self-assured demeanor and stalked over to him with feline grace, as though she didn’t have the slightest hesitation about doing what her Master asked. When he realized she wasn’t going to balk, Ambrose sat up quickly and raised a staying hand.
“Thank you for being willing to help, but I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
“If she seriously broke up with you just because you’re rich, she’s a twit.” Sindee shook her head, and went back to Konstantin’s lap. “If she’s not interested in you, I have about a million friends who’d be more than willing to wait in line just to be introduced. Like me, for instance. When Konstantin’s new little wife comes, keep me and Anna in mind. You guys are fun to hang out with, you treat your slaves like gold, and the fact that you have money means we get spoiled. If she’s thinks she’s too good for you, she should give her head a shake.”
Sindee was interested in his love life? She was interested in him? It was an awkward conversation, considering she was sitting in his best friend’s lap, but at least she and Anna didn’t think he was an asshole.
“I’m not ready to give up on her.” The swell of emotion that came when he thought about walking away from Everly permanently thickened his throat and gave him a headache. He couldn’t just forget about her. And if it took her weeks, or even years, to come back to him, he’d fucking wait. Waiting for her, even if there was the slightest chance, was worth every miserable second.
His mind drifted to the passionate way she talked about human rights, and dignity for the poor, the fire that lit her from within. The way she challenged how he saw the world. Everly was so much more than a sexy girl with kink on her mind. She was that, of course, but there was a depth to her that had slowly been changing him, too, making him see where he was lacking as a person and challenging him to grow—to be worthy of her.
There was no moving on when the person who had become his life wanted nothing to do with him.
* * *
Flipping through the seven zillion channels he had access to was completely unsatisfying, considering none of them had a live feed of her day. He’d settle for seeing her do almost anything. All he had of her was three pictures on his phone, one of which he’d printed out and put in a frame. It was grainy but better than nothing.
Pitiful.
And why hadn’t he taken more photos when they were together? Idiot. He’d been too busy enjoying their life together
It should have been a good day. He’d gotten through a whole hour and a half without feeling like someone had gutted him, because he’d been dealing with a situation at the office.
Now, alone at home with no work to do, his house felt huge and ridiculous and excessive. Why did one person need all this space? Maybe one of those really small homes, like he’d seen on TV, would be better for him. A house this big needed more people—like a wife and children, or maybe a small village—to fill it. Everything he owned that was expensive made him feel ashamed. How much wealth was too much for one person? But at the same time, was he supposed to give everything away? He’d tried asking Banner and Ambrose what they thought, which had turned into a long philosophical discussion about capitalism, but they hadn’t answered his questions.
He stopped flipping channels when he got to one that showed wide-eyed, starving children in rags. Maybe even giving his money away wasn’t enough. Maybe he should go back to school to become a doctor or something, so he could do some real good in the world.
No wonder she hated him.
This was stupid. What he needed to do was get off his ass and go to The Catacombs and hang out with the guys. They’d invited him to go, but he’d declined, saying he was going to make himself a big dinner. Instead he’d sat on the couch as though he’d rooted there. Being around Kon with his girls and Banner with his new wife would only feed his pity party.
The phone rang, and he realized with annoyance that he’d left it on the kitchen island. Too far. Four more rings and voicemail would kick in. Three. Two. At the last second, he lurched up from the couch and sprinted into the kitchen to get the phone, hoping he hadn’t exerted himself for a telemarketer or the guys nagging him to quit being a loser and meet them at the dungeon.
“Hello?”
There was silence for a moment, and he rolled his gaze to the ceiling, waiting for an automated telemarketer spiel to begin.
“Ambrose?” The voice was so quiet he barely heard it over his own breathing.
“Yes?”
“I . . . You can hang up on me if you want, but I had no one else to call. My mom is out of town with her boyfriend.”
Everly? His heart struggled to find its rhythm again. “No, it’s okay. What’s wrong?” He could almost hear his heart pounding in his throat. Ask me for anything, and it’s yours.
“I was at a protest today.”
“Oh. For what? I hope it went well.” Okay, so that wasn’t the smoothest response, but talking to her at all, after so long, made him panic about saying the wrong thing.
