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My body stiffened even when Anastasia pulled me away to meet some English billionaire like I gave a goddamn fuck. I was introduced to a couple, names I can’t even recall. The only thing I wanted was to find Jessa and talk to her, desperate to see her only inches away and feast upon her like my imagination had done over and over again since the moment she left home.
The talking continued, but I excused myself and walked around the room, remembering how Noah insisted I attend this ball to meet clients. He was adamant my work is beyond anything they’ve ever seen and the importance of making new contacts.
That was business-driven Noah Mason talking. I’m more inclined to think Noah’s protective stance on his daughter was his true agenda for me attending.
The coincidence is all too much.
Jessa stood by herself, her back toward me, but her delicate skin was only an arm’s length away. I tortured myself by standing this close to her, knowing my limits were being pushed. She’s married, and nothing will change that.
But tormenting myself for a moment with her was my guilty pleasure.
When she turned around, the hazel eyes fixated on my face, her stare almostkillingme on the spot.
I still fucking loved her.
And I got that all from one stare.
The rest of the night’s memories come and go—our conversations, to how beautiful she was in her white gown. The brief, albeit introduction to her husband. A man I loathed with every fiber of my being. In a heartbeat, he’d offered Jessa everything I waited too long for. I blamed myself for the longest of times, but I wasn’t the only one at fault. Jessa jumped into his arms like I was nothing.
The dance I dared to ask for, our small conversations, to the drive home to care for her sick son.
And while all of last night plays in my head, the vision of her cradling her son sticks with me the most. She’d never looked so perfect, destined to be a mother, of that, I’m sure. But it broke me at the same time, knowing there’ll never be a chance for us, not when she has a family of her own.
The wounds and scars from her decision to walk away from us were raw and exposed, bleeding at the edges as I stood inside the home belonging to Jessa and her husband. The brick and mortar representing more than a house. It’s a place they built a life together—a place to share memories and experience all the wondrous things as husband and wife.
All the things I could’ve offered her if she had just stayed.
If I’d had the guts to fight for her like I should have.
As I stood watching Jessa with a dullness inside my chest, the anguish on her face was enough to tell me Noah had been right. His daughter wasn’t happy, and I hated seeing her struggle with her son alone.
Her husband should’ve been there instead of allowing her to go home with me. It made me think of all the times my dad or Lex made sure I was never without their support. From the earliest of memories, they were always around, and Mom always said she was grateful for the men in her life who loved me like their own.
When I drove away, I went straight to the hotel and nursed a bourbon beside the window until dawn. Then, at least the nightmares had no way of finding me if I didn’t fall asleep.
* * *
“Andy, sweetheart. You look tired, more coffee?”
I shake my head to bring myself back to reality, then force a smile. I’ve lost track of how many I’ve drunk today, another reason why my concentration is close to non-existent.
“I might have to try this again tomorrow,” I inform Anastasia, then remember this thing she needs us to go to. “How important is this meeting you need me for?”
Anastasia looks up at me with concern. “I can reschedule. Is everything okay?”
Again, I force a smile because speaking about my personal life isn’t an option right now. My phone vibrates in the back pocket of my jeans, a welcome distraction as Anastasia steps away so I can take the call in private. I pull it out of my jeans, glancing at the screen to see the unknown number, yet answer it anyway.
“Hello, Andy speaking.”
“Andy, this is Benedict Banks,” he introduces himself formally, causing me to still my movements. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you on this number? Kate was so kind to pass it onto me.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“I’d like to invite you to lunch tomorrow if you’re free. I know Jessa doesn’t have family here, and with Bentley being a bit difficult of late, I thought it would be a nice surprise to have you over.”
I hesitate, not knowing him at all. If the true intent behind this is for Jessa, then, of course, I want to see her, despite my brain telling me to back the hell away. Stepping back into their home will only torture the feelings I’m trying to bury.
But the pain is a reminder of the mistakes I made, and the only way to move on and let go of her as anything more than a friend is to build resistance. The more I see her as the new Jessa, the more I can move forward with my life.
