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Please don’t say you want to fuck, he thought.
A deep and sultry chuckle came over the line. “You left your watch the last time you were here, darling. Come by and get it?”
Is that the only reason you want me to come by?
“When?”
“Are you free at noon?”
He flicked open his calendar app. No meetings. “I’ll be there.” Another call came through. It was Albie. “Margaux, I’m sorry, but I need to take this other call.”
“No worries, dearest. See you at noon.”
* * *
When Margaux answeredthe door to her penthouse, she was dressed in one of her flowing silk kimonos, this one jade green to match her eyes. “Are you in a hurry, or would you like a drink while you’re here?”
He didn’t beat around the bush. “Do you want to have sex, Margaux?”
And what was he going to do if she said yes?
How could he have sex with her when he could still see the blissful look on Skylar’s face as she came?
“Doyouwant to have sex with me, Julian?”
He hesitated. Too long.
“Ah,” she said with a smile, strolling over to her kitchen island and picking up what looked to be his watch. “So, how is it going? With the woman fate put in front of you?”
She handed him his watch, and he took it, staring down at it without answering her question. He had a large watch collection, and he hadn’t realized he’d left his Santos De Cartierhere. How could he not know it was missing? He’d bought it for himself the first time he had an article in the New York Times.
When Julian still didn’t respond to her question, Margaux sighed. “That bad? Or is it that it’s that good, and you’re still fighting it, Julian?”
He put on the heavy watch, then breathed out a heavy sigh. “Can we sit and talk?”
“Of course.”
He followed her to the sofa and sat beside her. He took her hand, rubbing circles on it with his thumb, and without looking up at her, said, “Why can’t we be enough for each other? I wish we were enough for each other.”
“Oh, my dearest,” she said and cupped his cheek in her palm. “I’m sorry, but it was never meant to be enough. Just a wonderful friendship to get us to the other side.”
“The other side of what?”
“The other side of grief. The other side of fear. Theother side— where the pain of the past no longer holds us back and the looming pain of the present, the pain at the thought of giving up what is just out of our reach, motivates us to fight for what we want. In my case, another love. In your case, your first love.”
He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “In many ways, you’ve been my first love. My firsthealthylove,” he said.
Her breath hitched, and he opened his eyes to see her own were bright and filled with tears. “You can’t know how much that means to me to hear you say that. But as I said before, there’s a difference between loving and being in love. Are you in love with . . . ”
“Skylar,” he said, surprising himself.
“Skylar. Beautiful.”
Julian smiled. “She is. But . . . I’m not in love with her. Ican’tbe inlove with her. I justwantto be in love with her so bad, and it hurts. For the first time, ithurtsnot to be able to be in love with someone.”
“Julian! Youcanbe in love! Don’t let what happened to you—”
At that, Julian stood. He walked over to the tall bank of windows with a sweeping view of the city and wondered—how is it I’ve lived a life most men would envy, and yet it’s still not enough? When will it be enough?
