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He shakes his head. “Thank you. If you, um…change your mind, your job is always open.”
“I appreciate that.” But I can’t take Evan up on it. Instead, I give him a little salute as I exit his office, passing Nia along the way with a hug and a smile. “I’m leaving. Evan will explain. Give him a little extra TLC tonight. You’ve got a good one.”
“The best,” Nia says automatically, still searching my face for answers.
“Take care of each other. Goodbye.”
After my meeting with Evan, I return to my condo, sit on my sofa, and look around. The living room is decorated in shades of gray, just like my bedroom. And my bathroom. Hell, even my car is gray.
I’d give anything right now to be in Sloan’s apartment warmed by earthy tones and her big personality, rather than nearly four thousand miles away, fending off the need to shed unmanly tears.
But I can’t sit here and feel sorry for myself. I’m finally pulling up my bootstraps and charting a new future. Leaving Stratus—and Evan—was fucking difficult. Unfortunately, that was the easy part.
My next steps are much harder.
I make two phone calls. The first takes roughly ten minutes. The professional on the other end says she’ll get working and for me to let her know when I’m ready to take the appropriate next step.
Swallowing, I end that call, then place another, this one using a burner phone I picked up on my way here. I don’t really expect much, but I have to try.
I’m shocked when I get an answer on the second ring, though her voice sounds cautious. “Sloan O’Neill.”
It’s Sloan Shaw, damn it. But I can’t insist she take my name when I’m sure she doesn’t want to stay married to me.
“It’s Bas. Please don’t hang up,” I rush to say. “I just called to tell you three things. Then, if you want, I’ll go away—for good.”
She hesitates a long time before she lets out a resolute breath. “What?”
“Last time we were together, we had unprotected sex. I’m clean. I know you are, too. But if you’re pregnant, I’d like to know. I want to be an involved father—the kind neither of us had growing up. You might hate me, and I get it, but our son or daughter shouldn’t suffer.”
Another long pause. “Agreed. If I’m pregnant, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Thank you.” I’m relieved she’s willing to give me that concession. “I appreciate that.”
Everything else I’m about to say is for her happiness—and hers alone.
“That same night, you told me that if I truly love you, I’ll let you go. I do, so I am. I spoke with an attorney earlier.” I give Sloan the woman’s name and number. “When you’re ready, let me know and have your attorney contact her to negotiate a settlement. I’m more than willing to give you half—”
“I don’t want a dime of your money.”
Of course she doesn’t. That’s so Sloan. I’d take her refusal to mean that she doesn’t want a damn thing from me ever again…except she sounds on the verge of tears.
“Baby…” But what can I say? She’s asked me to let her go, not fight her harder for us. How can I say I’m putting her first if I’m trying to hang on to her in an effort to make myself happier? “I’m so sorry about everything. It may not matter to you anymore, but what we had… It wasn’t all business for me. And if you’ll let me, I’ll explain the situation with Becca.”
I’m worried she’s going to tell me that she doesn’t care. Instead, she surprises me again.
“I’m listening.”
That’s a good sign, but I can’t get my hopes up. Maybe she only wants to hear what I have to say so she can get some closure. And that’s fine. If it will help her move forward alone—even if that’s the last thing I want—I’ll give that to her.
“Evan married Becca right out of high school. They were both foster kids, and Becca came out of a rough home. She had this…vulnerable quality, like she wasn’t quite capable of protecting herself from the pitfalls and cruelties of the world. I, like a lot of men who met her, wanted to protect her. Don’t get me wrong. I’m no altruist, as you know. She was beautiful. And I knew Evan wasn’t in love with her.”
“Why did he marry her?”
“He felt responsible for her. He’d done his best through high school to shield her from an abusive foster father. The moment she turned eighteen, he yanked her out of that house and gave her the protection of his name and his roof. Sure, she was my best friend’s wife…one with big eyes, a soft smile, and so much unfulfilled need. Somehow, my heart convinced me that I could give her what she needed.” I scoff. “I never touched her—not once. My loyalty to Evan came first and foremost. And in some ways that was perfect for me. I could tell myself I couldn’t commit to anyone else because I’d already given my heart to Becca—the most unattainable woman I knew.” God, I was an idiot. “But the truth was, she wasn’t what I needed. I didn’t know what that was until I met you.”
“Bas…”
Right. I’m not calling to win her back. That would be great, but not the reason I reached out. That’s also why I’m not telling her I’ve left Stratus and Evan. I didn’t leave my best friend and the job I loved to win brownie points, simply to make things right. “Becca died in a car accident, on her way to a doctor’s appointment. She was three months pregnant.”
