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“You were fourteen when you lost your sister, your mother, and your father. I’m sorry I’ve been harsh with you,” I tell her.
“I needed to contribute to my sister’s care and it wasn’t cheap, so I’ve worked twice as hard as others, but I don’t resent it,” she says with another sigh.
“Why didn’t you let her go when your parents were gone? She’d been in a coma for nearly ten years.”
She looks at me like I’m a monster. “You never give up on the people you love,” she says.
“No, but you can also forgive yourself for mistakes you made as a kid, and for making a mistake with this Nathan guy.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Byron. You were born into wealth and privilege. Life hasn’t continually kicked you down every time you tried to stand up again. In this world, you’re either a winner or a loser. After being attacked, I was determined to never be taken again, to never show weakness again, and especially to never be fooled again.”
“Everything isn’t always as it appears,” I say.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks.
“We all have our pasts, and we all have secrets.”
“I’m sure your secrets are about the maid forgetting to pack your lunch,” she says, instantly putting her armor back in place.
I look at her, sadness filling me. “What made you leave your job and strike out on your own?”
“I had the escort service. I thought if I could teach women to appreciate themselves and to use what they have without being taken advantage of, they’d be better off. I was wrong. It was killing me.” She let’s out another long suffering sigh. “Then my sister died. Pneumonia. I no longer needed to make as much money, and I wanted to finally livemydreams.”
“I’m sorry...”
“Don’t. I can’t stand generic apologies or words that mean nothing. They’re spoken so freely, so easily, and they’re never meant.” She looks away again, and it’s time for me to leave. I need to think. I turn and begin walking toward the door. She follows.
“Why did you come? Why did you ask this of me to just turn and walk away? Is it to prove that I’m worthless in your eyes?” I can sense she’s close to falling apart. I should go to her, but I have to get my head clear. This is all too much.
I turn back around. “I’m glad you told me, McKenzie. Sometimes you have to trust another person.” How ironic these words are coming frommylips. What a crock. I’ve trusted no one, and I haven’t for years.
“It’s fine, Byron. Go ahead and leave.”
Pain slices through me at her words, but that’s what I’m doing, isn’t it? I’m leaving. It’s what I do best. Without another word, I slip from her house. I’ve made choices my entire life that affect me — and not in a good way. What’s one more bad choice?
Chapter Thirty-One
McKenzie
I wait until I’m sure Byron’s gone before I break down. Everything inside of me hurts. I’ve warned myself not to fall for this man, but I’ve done it anyway. Why? Will I ever learn? How can I care about someone who’s so cold? I’ll admit he’s shown me a few glimpses of the real person beneath all the armor. But it doesn’t make him honorable, doesn’t make him worthy of my love. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’ll never feel worthy of love, so it’s easier to love a man who can never love me.
I have to remember this is simply one more roadblock on a long stretch of road littered with them. It won’t hold me back forever. I simply took another detour. By the time I go to bed, no more tears fall, but I don’t get much sleep. My life will never be simple. But who wants a boring life? It’s better to have ups and downs than to simply exist. I’ll get past this. I have to stay strong. And I will.
When I walk into my office I find Byron instead of Zach... and I’m not in the most receptive of moods.
“How did you get in here?” is my only question.
“Zach let me in and then split. I think the man might have a crush on you,” he says as if he finds it amusing.
“Is it such a shock that a man might find me attractive?” I ask as I stand three feet from him. Enough is enough. We can have it out and then be done with each other. I can’t keep getting rejected by this man.
“I’d find it more shocking if menweren’tattracted to you,” he offers with a chuckle.
“I don’t find you funny, Byron. Why don’t you tell me whatever it is you need to say and then get the hell out of my office and out of my life?” My bravery is going to last for only so long before I snap.
“Fine. Just like that?” he asks. “You want me to blurt it out?”
“I don’t say what I don’t mean,” I nearly snarl.
