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“Why?” she pressed. “You truly can’t forgive me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t need to forgive you. You don’t matter.”
“Vic—”
“I don’t want to be friends with you. I want you to walk out that door, and then I never want to think about you again.”
She seemed stunned—speechless and gaping a bit before she snapped her jaw shut and left without another word. He shut the door behind her, letting his forehead fall against the wood, and he wished almost viciously that Oliver had been there to see it.
But feeling his own rush of power—of his own convictions—was enough. It was a door closing, and that was all he needed to move on.
Chapter19
“So…that’sit? Papers signed and everything?”
Victor stared across the table at Emil, who was rolling the edge of his wineglass over his bottom lip absently. Victor had a crush on Emil once, without really knowing the name for the feeling at the time. He thought it was just envy back then—wanting to be like him. Gorgeous, carefree, happy. And now, the crush felt shallow compared to the sort of love he’d known.
It had been seven months, and he’d finally sold his shares in the company, and in two days, the buyer would close on his penthouse. He’d sold to some social media celebrity who wanted a place to show off to his friends—or so Victor’s Realtor had told him. Not that Victor cared.
He had money, he was out, and he was currently shopping for a place to settle down until he could figure out exactly where he wanted to go without being a massive creep and looking Oliver up. He was thinking about him a lot though. He knew that most universities’ graduations were happening in the next few weeks, and if everything had gone to plan, Oliver would be walking the stage.
And then he’d be…moving on? Going to be a teacher, is what he’d said.
Victor felt a small, pulsing ache in his chest.
“Are you with me?”
He lifted his gaze and sighed. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“You’ve been a million miles away for a while,” Emil pointed out.
Victor shrugged. A small part of him wished he could trust Emil enough to tell him who he’d met and what that week with Oliver had been like, but he wasn’t going to give fuel to the rumor fire. “Just thinking.”
“Is it the wedding?” Emil asked.
Victor blinked before he realized what Emil was implying, and he laughed, shaking his head. “God, no. I hope they’re happy.” Charlie and Alice actually had the balls to send him a wedding invitation. He’d declined, politely, and had his assistant buy a gift from their registry as her last duty before she was transferred to the man taking his place.
Emil shrugged. “She’s pregnant.”
Victor winced. He was grateful she’d been too terrified of his disability to risk having a baby with him, and he benefitted from that. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be tied to her forever by a child he couldn’t help but love.
“I’m sure their kid will be very happy with whatever nanny they choose,” he eventually said.
Emil pulled a face, but he didn’t argue. All of them had grown up that way. “I, uh…I have a job interview.”
“A job interview?” Victor asked. His tone was heavy with surprise because men like Emil didn’t go to job interviews. They accepted job offers.
Emil’s cheeks flushed lightly pink. “It’s in Providence.”
Victor, who had taken a sip of his wine, choked on his swallow. “The East Coast?”
Emil shrugged, shifting in his seat. He looked slightly uncomfortable, which Victor didn’t think was the worst idea. He should sit in discomfort for a while—embrace it. Learn to accept that almost everyone else went through that all the time.
“Yeah, uh. It’s a job in finance. I was thinking about New York,” Emil said, then paused to take a long drink from his glass like he needed the liquid courage. “But the only difference between there and here is the size of the city.”
Victor wasn’t quite sure what to say. “That’s…I’m happy for you, I think. Are you happy?”
Emil laughed softly and shrugged. “I don’t know. But maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world. I don’t think I’ve spent a lot of time being uncertain.”
