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My words pinged hollowly inside me, bouncing through the hidden caverns of my heart. Because of course, that wasn’t entirely true.
One dream had escaped me. And she was standing here in my office.
I cleared my throat, not ready to look at her. “What about you?”
“Am I happy?” She paused, as though the question did not compute. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Oh, come on. The Princess of Manhattan needs a better answer than that.” I made the mistake of turning toward her. Her beautiful face was wrought with sadness. She looked more vulnerable, more distraught, than I’d ever seen her before.
“I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy since the day we broke up.”
Her words thudded through the room. My ears started ringing. This meeting needed to end. Because whatever path this conversation was leading down would not help either of us. I had fought for years to keep my head above water when it came to this woman. She was not allowed to waltz into my building and shove my head to the ocean floor.
These words were a fantasy. I’d dreamt of hearing them in my darkest moments. They were the words I’d forced myself to live without.
Maybe she regretted breaking up with me, but she’d still fucking married Eli. Which meant nothing could ever make sense.
I looked back across the complex swirl of Brooklyn beyond my window. “You mean whenyoubroke up withme.The way you say it sounds like it was mutual.” I cleared my throat. “And it wasn’t.”
“Right. When I broke up with you,” she said softly.
“Well, you chose this life. You put yourself here.”
“I did choose it. But it was for a reason. One that I believed in.”
I clenched and unclenched my jaw. How had I become trapped in my own office? I’d wanted to scare Cora away; now she was holdingmeprisoner to the past that I very much wanted to leave behind us.
“Yes. Because your family has always prioritized excess wealth and vapid interpersonal relationships. I know.” I looked at her over my shoulder. “Are we done here?”
Cora’s gaze dropped to the ground and her back straightened. I could practically see her rebuilding her armor. Even though I knew how rare this window of openness and vulnerability was for someone like her, part of me wanted to erase this encounter from my memory.
It wouldn’t lead anywhere productive. She had a wedding ring on her finger. And no amount of explanation or regret would change the fact that she’d fucking chosenhim.
She drew a breath. “I’m sorry for coming into your building today. But it was good to see you again, Axel. I’m glad you’re happy. You deserve all of this and more.”
She toyed with a diamond earring, looking like she might add more. I spoke before she could.
“Stay where you belong,” I told her. “And if you’ve ever wanted to balance the scorecard, get me that building and stay the fuck away from us.”
Cora’s mouth turned into a thin line before she spun on her heel and strode out of my office. When the door closed quietly behind her, I buried my face in my hands.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” I pulled at my hair, allowing the briefest burst of the tempest within to come swirling to the surface. A gale force wind of emotion pummeled me. I slammed my fist into my desk, fighting to tamp down the feelings. Hold them back. Swallow them all until I could get to the fucking gym, or fuck it away, or anything.
Cora Margulis should not have this effect on me still. I hated that she could make me waver, that she could come into my space and ask me if I was fucking happy.
All it took was one glance at her heartbreaking beauty to reduce me to rubble.
I paced my office for a while, drawing deep breaths and ignoring the curiosity that sprang to life inside me. I had so many questions after that little interaction. How could she come into my office and tell me she wasn’t happy since breaking up with me? That required a serious amount of ovaries, but I couldn’t puzzle out her end game. All while wearing her wedding ring. Had this been an Eli-approved visit? Was she just making moves in the overall Margulis game of chess? I wanted all the answers, but I didn’t want to want them.
It became clear that I needed something, whether a stiff drink, a punching bag, or the slightest of hints that could begin unraveling infuriating tangle of questions in my head. She was the only one who could cut me to the core, and I was determined to cauterize the wound. Once and for all. I stormed down the hallway to Trace’s office.
I pushed open the door without knocking. He looked up at me, unsurprised.
“Okay. What the fuck was that meeting about?” I dropped into the chair facing Trace’s desk and looked past his shoulder at the blue sky through his window.
“I thought you’d be here a little sooner.” He checked his watch. “It’s been a half hour since she left.”
“Yeah, well, I’m practicing something called self-control. Now fucking spill it.”
