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“Nope, wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for him to return. I think he’s done.”
“At least you’re still here.”
For now, I wanted to say, but I didn’t. “Talk to you later, Nick.”
I ended the call, my mood even darker now than before. “Maybe there’s more to life than being sexy,” I muttered, ignoring the curious looks of a couple passing me. “And maybe there’s more to me than a pretty face.”
By the time I got to my hotel, the sky was packed with thick clouds, the first rain splatters the precursor to a heavy thunderstorm. The air was muggy and swollen with humidity, making me feel trapped and suffocated.
I unlocked the door to my hotel room, stepped inside, and flicked on the lights. The sudden brightness seemed to amplify the emptiness of the space. I took in the luxurious furnishings of the suite that were meant to make me feel at home. But no matter how many designer throw pillows lay on the leather couch or exclusive art pieces adorned the walls, the place still felt impersonal and cold.
After Tiago had made his big move, we’d sold our apartment in Paris. It made little sense to keep it when I’d be the only one using it, but the downside was that I had to stay in hotels again when I was in Europe.
Sighing, I kicked off my shoes, unbuttoned my shirt, and tossed it onto a nearby chair. The air conditioning was a welcome relief from the Parisian heat—I’d picked this hotel because it was one of the few that boasted having AC—but it did little to quell the ache in my chest. As I stood there, barefoot and half-undressed, my mind wandered to Forestville, to Tiago and the life he had built with Cas.
Who would’ve thought I’d miss that place so much? The pang of longing took me by surprise. Technically, I didn’t even live there, but it was still the only place that felt like home. Our apartments in Rio and Paris had been great, and we’d owned some property in London for a while, but none of them had ever been a true home. Also something I hadn’t grasped until Tiago had pointed it out. They’d held no history, no memories, no roots. Those were all in Forestville.
With a heavy heart, I ran a bath. Hopefully, some relaxation would help calm the tempest of emotions swirling inside me. As the tub filled, I added a lavender bath bomb, peeled off the rest of my clothes, and sank into the water. I closed my eyes and let the water envelop me, hugging me like an embrace.
As I lay there, surrounded by the fragrant steam and soft light, I tried to focus on the soothing sensation of the water against my skin, but my thoughts kept tumbling through my head.
I had worked so hard to get where I was. Long hours with grueling shoots, starving myself when necessary or working out twice a day, traveling the world until I’d lost all sense of time zones, working with asshole photographers and art directors, and pushing my body to its limits. But was it worth it? Had I sacrificed too much in pursuit of success?
The emptiness gnawed at me, a hollow ache no amount of fame or fortune could fill. I’d had sexual relationships, but they’d all been passionate but fleeting, leaving me feeling more alone than ever. Had I, in my relentless quest for success, missed out on something far more valuable, something Tiago had found? Companionship, family, love.
I was lonely.
My chest tightened as I acknowledged this new and unfamiliar emotion. Here I was, successful in every way…yet not only alone but lonely as well. Throughout my career, I’d always been fiercely independent, embracing my solitude and the freedom it gave me. With Tiago by my side, I’d wanted nothing different. But now, for the first time, I craved companionship, something more than a string of meaningless flings and one-night stands.
My breath hitched. What would it be like to have someone by my side, someone who understood me and wanted to share their life with me? I could almost feel the phantom touch of a lover’s hand on my chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns across my skin, their warmth seeping into my soul. The image was so vivid I trembled, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
“Shit,” I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn’t believe how vulnerable I felt, my longing for connection leaving me raw and exposed. It was a side of myself I had never known existed, and I was terrified. What the hell was happening to me?
I had no clue.
All I knew was one thing: I wanted to go home.
9
FIR
The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a melancholic glow over the living room as I stood by the window, clutching a steaming cup of coffee, waiting for the boys to wake up and come down. No school for them today, so they were sleeping in. I’d tried to stay in bed longer as well but, as usual, hadn’t been able to. I’d always been an early riser, and besides, today wasn’t a normal day, and the weight of my grief and my memories had kept me awake for most of the night.
I dreaded this day every year since Samuel had passed away. Five years today, the anniversary of his death. How had these five years felt like forever yet so fleeting at the same time? Those first weeks without him had been a blur, an endless litany of crying, comforting, consoling, and more crying. The boys had been heartbroken without their daddy, and I had been so, so lost without him.
And here I was, five years later. The sharp edges of my grief had softened, but it was still there. It always would be. And today would suck and bring it back all over again. I always took the boys out of school for the day to spend it together. It was an important day, one that brought up a lot of emotions, and I wanted to be there for them.
The floor upstairs creaked, and I turned around. My sons sleepily made their way down the stairs.
“Morning, Dad.” Gabe yawned, rubbing his eyes.
“Good morning, boys.”
“Morning,” Josiah mumbled, still half-asleep. He took after Samuel, who’d always had trouble waking up as well.
“What’s the plan for today?” Gabe asked when we sat around the breakfast table.
I’d made scrambled eggs and bacon on English muffins, Samuel’s favorite breakfast. The absence of Samuel’s laughter and warmth at the table seemed more pronounced than ever. But I needed to be strong for my sons. They were my everything.
