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He lingers.
And even after I close my eyes, minutes later, I can still feel him there.
"I know that there's shit going on between us, our families. But Clarissa, you're wrong if you think that I don't care what happens to you." He looks at me for a moment and then turns away, wishing me a soft "Good night."
Before he's closed the door behind him, tears have already sprung from my eyes.
I can't remember the last time someonecaredabout me, really cared.
And I never expected it to come from a person I would've been happy to see fall off the face of the earth, probably after I pushed him.
I take another sip of tea, and wonder, would he still feel the same way if he knew the whole truth.
Chapter 14
Matthias
It'stoohottobe out jogging.
It's too hot to be out doing anything but walking from the car into the building.
But I'm a highly impulsive creature, and if I don't make an effort to add some routine into my life, chaos would reign.
I also need to get out of the house and clear my head.
Get away from Clarissa, you mean.
I thought our brains worked for us. Mine's been somewhat of a traitor recently.
I increase the pace of my stride, silently counting the breaths. Like my nightly walks, my morning jogs are meant for me to mentally prepare for the day, go over the meetings I have, and hit the ground running the moment I arrive at the office. It's a habit all of us have. Damien, like me, jogs, or in his case, runs for his life, his sanity; Kylian has his martial arts and meditations; and Kingsley, well, who knows what the fuck he does since he never leaves the office. Reading finance reports is his cardio, and he never has to prepare to go into the office since he's always there.
I worry about him. As high stress as my, Kylian's, and Damien's jobs are, Kingsley's is more pressure than ours put together, not to mention worrying about the CEO vote coming up in eight months. As much as it's on my mind, it must have been keeping him up since the day Grandfather died. He's absolutely the right person for the job. Like all of us, he lives and breathes Baxter Enterprises, but while the rest of us have outside hobbies, Kingsley's hobby is...more Baxter. But that's not always enough. Not in the world of office politics.
I make a mental note to give him a call.
On the advice of a counselor, my brothers and I have a standing Wednesday appointment where we're supposed to talk about anything but work. We stick to it about 50% of the time which is better than I thought we would do. It's good to catch up with them as a group, our dynamic set since childhood. But it's also nice to also have one-on-one conversations now and then. Kylian is both my and Damien's brother of choice to confide in, probably because he's so cheery, he makes you feel better after talking to him, but I don't know who Kingsley would call if he needed to talk.
We all need someone to understand us.
"Matthias?" A female voice pulls me out of my thoughts and I see a woman falling into stride next to me.
Ugh.
I hate anyone interrupting my morning jog; I try to get out here at five thirty a.m. for that reason. Everyone's trying to avoid other people at that time. But she looks familiar so I spend a few seconds trying to place her.
"Oh, hi, how are you doing?" I ask, running my wrist band over my face, stalling as I try to burrow in my brain for her name.
It's not fooling anyone.
She rolls her eyes but with a smile. "You don't know who I am, do you?"
"I'm sorry, I'm just focused on my work." Lame, but true. Kinda.
"I'm Carrie. We met at the Ash Foundation fundraiser a few weeks ago. I left a pair of sunglasses at your place. I've been calling trying to see if I can come pick them up?"
Oh. Well. I would say that this is awkward, but it's a pretty common occurrence. Women come home with me even after I make it clear that I'm not looking for anything serious. And then they try to manufacture ways for us to see each other again. What they don't understand is, if I'd wanted to see them again, I would have. I'm not shy, and I've never been afraid of going after what I want. And I certainly don't need to hear another conversation about how I"just haven't found the right woman."If I gave two shits about finding "the right woman" I would've already found her. I live in New York City, the epicenter of beautiful, talented, accomplished women who are great to spend a night with. But I'm just not looking for someone I have to text if I want to go out for a drink after a hard day at work.
"I'll have it sent to you," I say sharply. "What's your address?"
