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I frowned, trying to remember. “No?”
“Exactly. But I do.” She shook her head. “You broke up with Jonathan.”
I stepped back, denying it even as I scrambled to remember. “No way. Jonathan and I broke up after you and Peter stopped seeing each other.”
“It wasin the midstof all the Peter drama,” Estelle corrected. “And you didn’t say a word.”
“Well, that would be insensitive, wouldn’t it?” I argued. “To dump my problems on you while you were going through all that with Peter. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Girl, you didn’t tell me about Jonathan untilweekslater. Long after I stopped crying over Peter.” Estelle crossed her arms. “And you did that thing you do where you try to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, but that ain’t-shit-ass-dude broke up with you, his girlfriend of three years,via text.So don’t tell me it wasn’t a big deal.”
I didn’t respond to that, not sure how I could defend myself or Jonathan at that moment. “What’s your point, Estelle?” I asked.
“My point is that well-meaning or not, you forget your own needs if someone even remotely close to you is going through it, but let me give you a hint:everyonegoes through something sometime. That’s no reason to put your needs on the shelf indefinitely. So please, promise me you won’t do that with Nathan. Don’t integrate yourself so much into his family that you lose sight of what makes you Ciara Payne.”
I nodded, feeling a knot in my throat. I was overwhelmed with Estelle’s insightfulness and the fact that she saw me and cared enough to remind me to have boundaries.She really is the best work wife,I thought.
“Okay. Come here and get this hug.” She reached up and wrapped her arms around me, squeezing a little before letting go.
She grinned. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s hurry up and pick out some things you actually like.” She unlocked the dressing room door and turned to me with a raised eyebrow. “I gotta get back to work. You saw that new manager. He’s fine as hell, and I don’t wanna risk losing my job and access to that eye candy, you hear me?”
ChapterTwenty-Eight
NATHAN
Icouldn’t focus on my work no matter how hard I tried.
When I left the apartment that morning, I was determined to go to work and put Ciara out of my head temporarily. I figured it would be anout-of-sight, out-of-mindsituation: if I wasn’t looking at Ciara, with her adorable sleep-mussed hair and soft, morning look, I wouldn’t have to think about how many times she tried to have sex with me the night before, only for me to turn her down. Maybe if I forced myself to look at spreadsheets, I wouldn’t think about the curve of her hip, or the way her skin felt under my lips and hands, or the sounds she made when she found her release.
What ended up happening was that I stared at my computer screen for eight hours, not taking anything in but instead thinking about all the ways I could elicit those sounds from Ciara again.
And that was nothing in comparison to the daydreams about what our lives together could be.
Maybe we’d lease an apartment overlooking Central Park for the duration of her animation program, and we’d both move. I could work remotely, right? It was my company; I could do what I wanted. And worse came to worst, I could fly home. I would barely be missed around the office.
And then, when she was finished with her program, we could move back home and really start our lives together. Take trips. Have babies. Watch our kids grow. Grow old together and then watch our grandchildren—maybe even great-grandchildren—grow. I envisioned Ciara as a doting but fair mother, one that encouraged our children to follow their dreams. I saw myself as the type of father my own dad was: steady, the one who allowed the people around him to flourish.
I was an idiot for thinking that I could just ignore the imprint Ciara had already left on me. Clearly, she occupied my mind, my thoughts, and my heart.
By four o’clock, I gave up on working. I still had a list of things to complete by the end of the week, but it would have to wait.
“I need a drink,” I muttered. And suddenly, I had an idea.
I pulled out my phone and navigated to my brothers-only group chat. We had started this chat a few years back when John would blow up the siblings text thread with inappropriate questions about how to approach women. Mack left the thread a few times, only to be pulled back in by one of us. Finally, Damien created a chat for just us guys, explaining that he didn’t want Mack to kill her twin.
I used it now to see if they wanted to hang out. I suspected Mack would not want to be involved in the type of conversation I needed to have with my brothers.
Nathan:Hey, are any of you free tonight?
Nathan:Figured we could grab some beers and wings
Brandon:On a Tuesday? You never want to hang out during the week.
Damien: Yeah, is something wrong?
Nathan:No, nothing’s wrong. Just missing my brothers ?? I’ve been doing estate stuff and preparing for my wedding, and I haven’t seen you in a while.
Brandon: Yeah, something’s definitely up.
