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Probably not. No one’s worthy of her.
But then I’m so proud of her for caring. Proud of her for having that heart of gold, that innocence that shines like the sun. That’s part of what makes her so special. Her pure spirit.
I want to go to her with every fiber of my being, especially when I see that fucking boy around her. The only thing that calms my rage when he’s near her is the way she pulls away from him and treats him just like any of her other friends, refusing his company and sticking to her solitude.
I’m a selfish prick. I should want her to be happy. I should want her to be with her friends.
But I want her all for myself. Even though I know I’ve probably fucked things up so bad I can never have her.
But I know what I can do for her, so I do it.
I fix up the building she lives in. She’d suggested it, but I’d shot it down. What I’d said had been true. I wouldn’t be able to recoup the costs of the renovation without raising the rent.
But I’m not going to do that. I won’t raise the rent because I know she and her mother can’t afford it. She doesn’t even have a job anymore thanks to me. It’s the least I can do.
I watch the renovations taking place from my balcony next door. I wonder what she thinks of it. I wonder if she likes the new design. I used to show her some of my designs when she lived with me. I liked getting her take on things. She has a sharp mind and an eye for detail. She considers things other people wouldn’t—like putting a lime tree inside the lobby of one of my latest developments so there would be fresh limes for the bar. That had been all her idea, and it was genius. It gave the place something special and unique. It was a great ad point.
Sometimes I see her standing on the beach, gazing back up at the building, a little furrow on her brow. No doubt she thinks I’m going to raise their rent to make back the money I’ve lost on the renovation.
That’s certainly what I would do. Were it not for her.
She’s changed me. Made me want to be a better man. It’s not all about the business and money for me anymore. I can’t get the way she looked at me that night out of my head.
She expected no less of me.
That hurt. It fucking hurt.
And that’s why I’m doing this. To show her that I’m not the callous, unfeeling businessman she thinks I am. I’m not a monster who only cares about himself and turning a profit.
Not anymore. I’ve got plenty of money, but all the money in the world can’t make up for her.
And I’ll do anything I can to make sure she’s safe and happy now—even if that means she’s not with me.
It’ll kill me, but I’ll stay away from her and watch over her silently like her own guardian angel. Actually, I’m probably more like a sick, demented demon pining for a taste of heaven’s light.
Still, she’ll have a good place to live and everything that I can give her from afar. And nobody will mess with her. Ever.
