The hawthorne brothers a.., p.38
The Hawthorne Brothers: A Complete Billionaire Romance Collection, page 38
Violet
I close the door behind me and lean on it.
For a moment, I just stay there. I don’t have the strength to move. My mind, which has been filled with all sorts of chaotic notions, suddenly feels empty. My body feels numb. My heart feels like it’s no longer in my chest, like it’s been shattered into a million pieces and those fragments have started to evaporate one by one.
Weird. It almost feels like I usually do after an orgasm—adrift like I’m out of my body, hollow, undone. Who knew pain could have the same effect?
I am in pain. I don’t know exactly what part of me is aching. I don’t even know if it’s my body that hurts. I don’t know why I’m hurting. I just know I am.
The strength leaves my legs and I slide down towards the floor. My legs spread out before me. My arms lie limp at my sides. A tear trickles down my cheek.
Why does it hurt so much?
It didn’t hurt nearly this much five years ago. I cried, too, yes. I felt sick to my stomach, too. When I got back to my apartment, I just lay in my bed in my dress for a while. But it didn’t hurt this much. This time, I can barely breathe. This time, I feel like something more has been taken from me. Something real and important.
But of course it would hurt more. After all, five years ago, I barely knew Asher. I cried mostly because I felt like trash, because I felt stupid. I blamed myself for my suffering. But now, I’m crying because Asher and I had something and now it’s gone. He said I threw it away, and a part of me believes that. But it’s not entirely my fault. I wanted to believe in Asher, but how could I when he wouldn’t give me a reason to believe? I wanted to be with him, but he didn’t seem to feel that way. It even felt like he was refusing to feel that way.
He said I was asking for too much, but I felt like he wasn’t giving me enough to hold on to. Was it really too much to ask for him to say he didn’t believe in love but he was going to try anyway? I wasn’t expecting him to say he loved me. After all, we still don’t know each other that well. I wanted him to tell me how he felt. I wanted him to let me in. It’s not so much that I wanted a label for whatever was going on between us, more like I wanted to know that we were in it together, no matter what it was.
I just wanted to know that Asher wasn’t going to disappear like last time, or at least that he would try not to. Is that really too much to ask?
It’s funny, isn’t it? When you don’t tell a man what you want, he thinks you’re a coward, that you’re a cocktease, that you’re playing tricks on him. You tell him what you want and it becomes too much and he runs away like a scared little boy.
At any rate, it doesn’t matter. Asher is gone. I’ve lost him. This time, I’ve really lost him. Before, I couldn’t say that because I didn’t really have him. He wasn’t really mine. But now, I can say he was mine, even for just a short while. I had him. We had something. And now, it’s gone. And it hurts so fucking much.
I clutch the front of my shirt as even more tears fall, silently, like raindrops making their way down a car window.
Why? Why did Asher and I have to meet again just for us to end up this way? Why did we have to be together again if we don’t belong together, if he can’t be with me anyway?
Asher has toyed with any number of women. Maybe I’ve played with a few hearts myself without knowing. But fate, fate is the real player. And the cruelest.
I hug my knees to my chest as I let out loud sobs, the pain too much for me to stay quiet.
Of course, I’m partly to blame, too. I’m angry at myself, too. I gave Asher a chance even though I said I wouldn’t. I expected more from him even though I said we would just have meaningless sex. I knew he was a man-whore. I had a feeling he was incapable of commitment. Still, I hoped.
What’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
Shame. That’s something I’ll have to live with. Because I have to live. I have to keep going.
I’m hurting. I’m scarred. But I have to keep going.
I have to breathe. I have to get up. I have to eat, to sleep. I have to go to work tomorrow and the day after and the one after that even if I don’t feel like it, even if I don’t want to.
Because I have to live.
Right now, I’m dying, but I will live. I don’t know how, but somehow, after these tears stop falling, I’ll find a way to make it through.
But first, I have to breathe.
~
Breathe, Violet.
I tell myself that as I step out of the elevator and walk to my office, my shoulders pulled back and my chin high.
I have to pretend that this is just like any other day at the office. After all, for everyone else, it is. No one knows what happened between me and Asher. No one can see my broken heart even though I feel like it’s hanging outside my chest. And no one has to know.
I’ve dried my tears. I’ve put on my makeup, including a generous amount of concealer. I have a nice dress. I have my full armor. I can’t let anyone see through me.
As I pass by a row of cubicles, I feel some stares, and for a moment I get worried that they might have found out that Asher and I had a fight. But then I remember that yesterday, I fled Asher’s office shortly after Ethan and Ryker showed up. That’s probably why they’re staring. That’s probably what they’re speculating about.
They can speculate all they want. I don’t care.
I manage to get to my office just fine. Yes, I’m fine. I sit behind my desk and start to work. I’m off to a good start, too. But then, the worst happens.
Asher passes by. He passes in front of my office and turns his head so our eyes meet for just a moment, too brief to convey any meaning. Then he’s gone. I freeze.
Once, when I was in an emergency room in Zurich because of a sprained ankle and I was waiting for the swelling to go down, I overheard the nurses talking. They were talking about one of their fellow nurses who had refused to show up to work because her boyfriend had broken up with her. I thought it was silly. Why refuse to work just because of a broken heart? Why not work so you can forget about your problem? That’s what I normally do.
But now, I understand why someone wouldn’t want to come to work after a breakup. And it’s even harder when the one you broke up with is your boss.
I close my eyes and draw a deep breath.
Breathe, Violet. Just breathe.
~
I can’t breathe.
I thought things would gradually get easier, but it’s been three days and the pain remains as sharp. Each time I see Asher, I feel like my chest is being opened and my heart is being broken to pieces all over again.
And I’ve just seen Asher. We were just in a meeting together which lasted more than an hour, and the whole time I was sitting next to him pretending to be okay, trying not to look at him. But I ended up looking at him anyway, and I still couldn’t help but think about how hot he is and I still ended up feeling miserable knowing he’s no longer mine.
So here I am hiding in an empty cubicle, trying to breathe.
If I don’t, I just know I’ll start crying, and I can’t do that right now.
Just breathe.
“There you are, Ms. Cleary,” Asher’s voice interrupts my breathing.
Fuck.
“I was wondering where you’d gone after the meeting. I just had to give you this.”
He hands me a flash drive. I try to look at it instead of him.
“It contains the report we discussed during the meeting. I’d be happy if you added the items you suggested.”
I nod. “Sure.”
“Thank you.”
He leaves.
Wow. That’s it? Not so much as ‘What are you doing hiding here?’ or ‘Are you okay?’ He really no longer cares about me at all?
He’s been cold to me before, but this is different. This is indifference. It makes me think he never really cared about me at all.
I run toward the restroom because I can no longer breathe and I just know I’m about to cry, but I bump into Stella on the way.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her sincerely. “I didn’t hurt the baby, did I?”
She touches her belly and shakes her head. “No, no. The baby’s fine.”
“Good. I’m sorry. Really, I am. But I have to go.”
I start to run off.
“Violet?” Stella calls after me.
I stop.
“Are you okay?”
Tears sting the back of my eyes. Why did she have to ask me that question? Why did she have to care? Now, I feel… not okay.
“Violet?” Stella stands in front of me.
I say nothing. I can’t speak. If I open my mouth, I might start sobbing.
She should just leave me alone before I explode into a mess.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she grabs my hand and pulls me down the corridor. I’m confused.
“Where are we going?” I ask her.
“To have ice cream,” she answers. “It looks like you need a few scoops.”
~
I didn’t realize I did until I finished four, which must be a record for me.
As I place the spoon I’ve licked clean in the empty bowl, I feel better. I also feel a bit colder, but I do feel better. It’s like how you feel when you’ve been jogging for miles and you feel like giving up and then you suddenly feel this cold breeze on your face. Or like that snowball someone throws in your face when you don’t want to play because you’re sulking.
I feel better.
“Thanks,” I tell Stella.
“For the ice cream? Don’t thank me. These days, I can’t get enough ice cream even though it’s getting cold. I’m just glad I found someone to eat a heap with.”
A heap? Come to think of it, she did eat even more than me—five scoops, I think. Or was it six?
“The ice cream was good,” I tell her. “But I’m more grateful for the company.”
“You’re welcome,” Stella answers. “And actually, the company would be happy to be of more help.”
I give her a puzzled look. What was that?
“I mean if there’s something on your mind that you’d like to share with me, I’d be happy to listen,” Stella explains. “If you want, we can even order more ice cream, or maybe you can have coffee while you talk if that’ll help.”
I shake my head. “No, thanks. About the additional ice cream and the coffee, I mean.”
“And the fact that I’m willing to listen?” Stella asks.
I glance at my watch. “I’d love to, but I should get back to the office. I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving, so…”
“It’s fine. If Asher asks you where you went, you can just say you were with me. He shouldn’t complain then. If he does, I’ll kick his ass.”
My eyebrows furrow. “You can do that?”
She shrugs. “Well, maybe I shouldn’t, but Ethan won’t mind if I do.”
My eyes grow wide. “So you really are going out with Ethan Hawthorne.”
Stella gives me a puzzled look. “You didn’t know?”
I shake my head. “I had my suspicions, but I didn’t know it for sure.”
She chuckles.
I guess that means everyone knows.
She shows me her hand. “Actually, Ethan and I are engaged.”
“Whoa,” I exclaim as I see the diamond ring. “So you’re…?”
“Getting married? Yes, but after the baby is born. I don’t think I can handle a wedding right now.”
I guess it would be stressful trying to handle a wedding and a pregnancy at the same time.
“Congratulations,” I tell her.
She smiles. “Thanks.” Then she draws a breath. “So, you see, I promise you won’t get in trouble if you don’t go back to the office. Also, I may be practically Asher’s sister-in-law, but I can still be your friend.”
My eyes grow wide. “How did you know…?”
“I just had a feeling,” Stella says.
I think it’s more than that.
“If I’m right, then I may be able to help you more than you know. After all, I know how difficult the Hawthorne brothers can be.”
“Even Ethan?” I ask her curiously.
“Especially Ethan.”
She goes on to tell me how she and Ethan met, after which I feel obliged to tell her about what happened between me and Asher. I didn’t think I’d be able to talk about it, but Stella is surprisingly easy to talk to. Also, it feels good to get everything off my chest.
“That Asher,” Stella grumbles when I’m done talking. “Now I really want to kick his ass.”
My eyebrows arch. She’s on my side?
“So you think I did the right thing?” I ask her. “In confronting him and telling him I wanted nothing more to do with him?”
“You did the right thing.” She pats my hand. “But you know what? If there’s something I’ve learned, it’s that doing the right thing doesn’t necessarily make you happy. In fact, it rarely does.”
Her statement takes me by surprise.
“So I shouldn’t have done it?”
“I don’t think it matters what you should have or shouldn’t have done. You’ve already done it. What matters now is what you want to do next.”
I sigh. “What do you think I should do?”
“Hmm.” Stella touches her chin. “Maybe talk to Asher and give him another chance?”
“What?”
“I’ve told you this before. Asher may be a jerk. He may be awfully clueless about how other people feel. But he’s not a bad person. I think all this time, he’s been searching for someone he can really be with, someone who can really understand him and be there for him, someone who can love him and teach him how to love.”
“You’re saying I should teach him to love me?”
“You love him, don’t you?”
That question takes me even more by surprise. What?
“I can see it in your eyes,” Stella says. “I heard it in your voice.”
She did?
“But you don’t have to admit it to me. It’s fine. You’re the one who needs to know it.”
But I don’t know if I do.
“Even if you’re right, I don’t want to force someone to love me.”
“I didn’t say force,” Stella says. “I said teach. Asher feels something for you. I’m sure of it. You just have to give him time to develop it into something more. You have to teach him how to.”
I shake my head. “Why do I have to do that?”
“Because maybe he doesn’t know how to love,” Stella answers. “And maybe because those who do don’t know how to give up on love.”
I say nothing, but I’m starting to understand what Stella is saying. What if she’s right? What if I asked too much of Asher like he said? What if I was too impatient? What if I didn’t really give him a chance?
~
I’m still thinking about those questions as I cross the lobby of The Mistral.
What do I do? Do I just forget the fight Asher and I had and all the hurtful things he said to me? Why do I always have to be the one to do something, to give in, to take a leap of faith? Why can’t he? Then again, can I stand not doing anything? Can I just leave things as they are?
Either way, I lose. And I hate losing. Isn’t there another way?
I’m almost to the elevator when I hear someone call my name.
“Violet!”
At the thought that it might be Asher, my heart leaps. But then it sinks as I turn my head and realize it’s not. It’s just Liam.
Wait. Liam? All the way from Switzerland?
“Violet!” He puts his arms around me. “How are you?”
“Good,” I answer automatically before giving him a puzzled look. “Liam, what are you doing here?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Asher
What am I doing here?
Yesterday, I caught Violet hiding in a cubicle on the verge of tears. After that, she disappeared. Today, she didn’t come in to work. According to Dylan, she isn’t feeling well but it’s nothing serious. Is that true? Something tells me it’s a lie.
If it is, shouldn’t I go check on her and ask her what’s wrong? What if she’s thinking of quitting because of me? And if it isn’t a lie, shouldn’t I go check on her and bring her something to make her feel better? She’s still one of my most valuable employees.
Why am I still here at the office?
It’s not because I no longer care. From the moment I saw her in her office the day after we had the fight, I realized I still do. And these past few days when Violet and I haven’t been able to talk—talk, not just discuss things about work—these past few days when I haven’t even seen Violet smile, I realized just how much.
I miss her. I miss her smile and the laughter which she always seems to be trying to suppress. I even miss her glares and her pouts and the way that she rolls her eyes and turns her nose up at me. I miss her hair and how it smells. I miss the warm softness of her lips. I miss the heat of her skin. I miss every nook and cranny of her beautiful body. I miss her pancakes. I miss her competitiveness, her stubbornness, her charm, her confidence and the vulnerability she’s only showed to me.
I miss her. I miss all of her.
But do I have a right to? Do I have a right to miss her after I hurt her so much? Do I have a right to still care about her when I’m still not sure I can give her what she wants? Do I have a right to want her back?
I think about that for a few seconds. Then I slam my hands on my desk as I get out of my chair.
Fuck it. I’m going to go see her.
~
Almost as soon as I ring the doorbell, I hear someone rushing to the door. My heart races. My fingers tighten around the bouquet of flowers I have in my hand.
Then the door opens and I see a man in the doorway, a tall man with blond curls and pale skin wearing the Canadian flag sweater that Violet and I bought at the gift shop of CN Tower. I frown.
He gives me a huge smile. “Hi.”
Who the hell is this guy? Why does he sound like he has a French accent? Or is it German? Most importantly, what is he doing in Violet’s apartment?
He looks at the bouquet I’m holding. “You must be Asher.”
He knows who I am?
“Yeah.” I offer him my hand. “Asher Hawthorne.”
I close the door behind me and lean on it.
For a moment, I just stay there. I don’t have the strength to move. My mind, which has been filled with all sorts of chaotic notions, suddenly feels empty. My body feels numb. My heart feels like it’s no longer in my chest, like it’s been shattered into a million pieces and those fragments have started to evaporate one by one.
Weird. It almost feels like I usually do after an orgasm—adrift like I’m out of my body, hollow, undone. Who knew pain could have the same effect?
I am in pain. I don’t know exactly what part of me is aching. I don’t even know if it’s my body that hurts. I don’t know why I’m hurting. I just know I am.
The strength leaves my legs and I slide down towards the floor. My legs spread out before me. My arms lie limp at my sides. A tear trickles down my cheek.
Why does it hurt so much?
It didn’t hurt nearly this much five years ago. I cried, too, yes. I felt sick to my stomach, too. When I got back to my apartment, I just lay in my bed in my dress for a while. But it didn’t hurt this much. This time, I can barely breathe. This time, I feel like something more has been taken from me. Something real and important.
But of course it would hurt more. After all, five years ago, I barely knew Asher. I cried mostly because I felt like trash, because I felt stupid. I blamed myself for my suffering. But now, I’m crying because Asher and I had something and now it’s gone. He said I threw it away, and a part of me believes that. But it’s not entirely my fault. I wanted to believe in Asher, but how could I when he wouldn’t give me a reason to believe? I wanted to be with him, but he didn’t seem to feel that way. It even felt like he was refusing to feel that way.
He said I was asking for too much, but I felt like he wasn’t giving me enough to hold on to. Was it really too much to ask for him to say he didn’t believe in love but he was going to try anyway? I wasn’t expecting him to say he loved me. After all, we still don’t know each other that well. I wanted him to tell me how he felt. I wanted him to let me in. It’s not so much that I wanted a label for whatever was going on between us, more like I wanted to know that we were in it together, no matter what it was.
I just wanted to know that Asher wasn’t going to disappear like last time, or at least that he would try not to. Is that really too much to ask?
It’s funny, isn’t it? When you don’t tell a man what you want, he thinks you’re a coward, that you’re a cocktease, that you’re playing tricks on him. You tell him what you want and it becomes too much and he runs away like a scared little boy.
At any rate, it doesn’t matter. Asher is gone. I’ve lost him. This time, I’ve really lost him. Before, I couldn’t say that because I didn’t really have him. He wasn’t really mine. But now, I can say he was mine, even for just a short while. I had him. We had something. And now, it’s gone. And it hurts so fucking much.
I clutch the front of my shirt as even more tears fall, silently, like raindrops making their way down a car window.
Why? Why did Asher and I have to meet again just for us to end up this way? Why did we have to be together again if we don’t belong together, if he can’t be with me anyway?
Asher has toyed with any number of women. Maybe I’ve played with a few hearts myself without knowing. But fate, fate is the real player. And the cruelest.
I hug my knees to my chest as I let out loud sobs, the pain too much for me to stay quiet.
Of course, I’m partly to blame, too. I’m angry at myself, too. I gave Asher a chance even though I said I wouldn’t. I expected more from him even though I said we would just have meaningless sex. I knew he was a man-whore. I had a feeling he was incapable of commitment. Still, I hoped.
What’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
Shame. That’s something I’ll have to live with. Because I have to live. I have to keep going.
I’m hurting. I’m scarred. But I have to keep going.
I have to breathe. I have to get up. I have to eat, to sleep. I have to go to work tomorrow and the day after and the one after that even if I don’t feel like it, even if I don’t want to.
Because I have to live.
Right now, I’m dying, but I will live. I don’t know how, but somehow, after these tears stop falling, I’ll find a way to make it through.
But first, I have to breathe.
~
Breathe, Violet.
I tell myself that as I step out of the elevator and walk to my office, my shoulders pulled back and my chin high.
I have to pretend that this is just like any other day at the office. After all, for everyone else, it is. No one knows what happened between me and Asher. No one can see my broken heart even though I feel like it’s hanging outside my chest. And no one has to know.
I’ve dried my tears. I’ve put on my makeup, including a generous amount of concealer. I have a nice dress. I have my full armor. I can’t let anyone see through me.
As I pass by a row of cubicles, I feel some stares, and for a moment I get worried that they might have found out that Asher and I had a fight. But then I remember that yesterday, I fled Asher’s office shortly after Ethan and Ryker showed up. That’s probably why they’re staring. That’s probably what they’re speculating about.
They can speculate all they want. I don’t care.
I manage to get to my office just fine. Yes, I’m fine. I sit behind my desk and start to work. I’m off to a good start, too. But then, the worst happens.
Asher passes by. He passes in front of my office and turns his head so our eyes meet for just a moment, too brief to convey any meaning. Then he’s gone. I freeze.
Once, when I was in an emergency room in Zurich because of a sprained ankle and I was waiting for the swelling to go down, I overheard the nurses talking. They were talking about one of their fellow nurses who had refused to show up to work because her boyfriend had broken up with her. I thought it was silly. Why refuse to work just because of a broken heart? Why not work so you can forget about your problem? That’s what I normally do.
But now, I understand why someone wouldn’t want to come to work after a breakup. And it’s even harder when the one you broke up with is your boss.
I close my eyes and draw a deep breath.
Breathe, Violet. Just breathe.
~
I can’t breathe.
I thought things would gradually get easier, but it’s been three days and the pain remains as sharp. Each time I see Asher, I feel like my chest is being opened and my heart is being broken to pieces all over again.
And I’ve just seen Asher. We were just in a meeting together which lasted more than an hour, and the whole time I was sitting next to him pretending to be okay, trying not to look at him. But I ended up looking at him anyway, and I still couldn’t help but think about how hot he is and I still ended up feeling miserable knowing he’s no longer mine.
So here I am hiding in an empty cubicle, trying to breathe.
If I don’t, I just know I’ll start crying, and I can’t do that right now.
Just breathe.
“There you are, Ms. Cleary,” Asher’s voice interrupts my breathing.
Fuck.
“I was wondering where you’d gone after the meeting. I just had to give you this.”
He hands me a flash drive. I try to look at it instead of him.
“It contains the report we discussed during the meeting. I’d be happy if you added the items you suggested.”
I nod. “Sure.”
“Thank you.”
He leaves.
Wow. That’s it? Not so much as ‘What are you doing hiding here?’ or ‘Are you okay?’ He really no longer cares about me at all?
He’s been cold to me before, but this is different. This is indifference. It makes me think he never really cared about me at all.
I run toward the restroom because I can no longer breathe and I just know I’m about to cry, but I bump into Stella on the way.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her sincerely. “I didn’t hurt the baby, did I?”
She touches her belly and shakes her head. “No, no. The baby’s fine.”
“Good. I’m sorry. Really, I am. But I have to go.”
I start to run off.
“Violet?” Stella calls after me.
I stop.
“Are you okay?”
Tears sting the back of my eyes. Why did she have to ask me that question? Why did she have to care? Now, I feel… not okay.
“Violet?” Stella stands in front of me.
I say nothing. I can’t speak. If I open my mouth, I might start sobbing.
She should just leave me alone before I explode into a mess.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she grabs my hand and pulls me down the corridor. I’m confused.
“Where are we going?” I ask her.
“To have ice cream,” she answers. “It looks like you need a few scoops.”
~
I didn’t realize I did until I finished four, which must be a record for me.
As I place the spoon I’ve licked clean in the empty bowl, I feel better. I also feel a bit colder, but I do feel better. It’s like how you feel when you’ve been jogging for miles and you feel like giving up and then you suddenly feel this cold breeze on your face. Or like that snowball someone throws in your face when you don’t want to play because you’re sulking.
I feel better.
“Thanks,” I tell Stella.
“For the ice cream? Don’t thank me. These days, I can’t get enough ice cream even though it’s getting cold. I’m just glad I found someone to eat a heap with.”
A heap? Come to think of it, she did eat even more than me—five scoops, I think. Or was it six?
“The ice cream was good,” I tell her. “But I’m more grateful for the company.”
“You’re welcome,” Stella answers. “And actually, the company would be happy to be of more help.”
I give her a puzzled look. What was that?
“I mean if there’s something on your mind that you’d like to share with me, I’d be happy to listen,” Stella explains. “If you want, we can even order more ice cream, or maybe you can have coffee while you talk if that’ll help.”
I shake my head. “No, thanks. About the additional ice cream and the coffee, I mean.”
“And the fact that I’m willing to listen?” Stella asks.
I glance at my watch. “I’d love to, but I should get back to the office. I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving, so…”
“It’s fine. If Asher asks you where you went, you can just say you were with me. He shouldn’t complain then. If he does, I’ll kick his ass.”
My eyebrows furrow. “You can do that?”
She shrugs. “Well, maybe I shouldn’t, but Ethan won’t mind if I do.”
My eyes grow wide. “So you really are going out with Ethan Hawthorne.”
Stella gives me a puzzled look. “You didn’t know?”
I shake my head. “I had my suspicions, but I didn’t know it for sure.”
She chuckles.
I guess that means everyone knows.
She shows me her hand. “Actually, Ethan and I are engaged.”
“Whoa,” I exclaim as I see the diamond ring. “So you’re…?”
“Getting married? Yes, but after the baby is born. I don’t think I can handle a wedding right now.”
I guess it would be stressful trying to handle a wedding and a pregnancy at the same time.
“Congratulations,” I tell her.
She smiles. “Thanks.” Then she draws a breath. “So, you see, I promise you won’t get in trouble if you don’t go back to the office. Also, I may be practically Asher’s sister-in-law, but I can still be your friend.”
My eyes grow wide. “How did you know…?”
“I just had a feeling,” Stella says.
I think it’s more than that.
“If I’m right, then I may be able to help you more than you know. After all, I know how difficult the Hawthorne brothers can be.”
“Even Ethan?” I ask her curiously.
“Especially Ethan.”
She goes on to tell me how she and Ethan met, after which I feel obliged to tell her about what happened between me and Asher. I didn’t think I’d be able to talk about it, but Stella is surprisingly easy to talk to. Also, it feels good to get everything off my chest.
“That Asher,” Stella grumbles when I’m done talking. “Now I really want to kick his ass.”
My eyebrows arch. She’s on my side?
“So you think I did the right thing?” I ask her. “In confronting him and telling him I wanted nothing more to do with him?”
“You did the right thing.” She pats my hand. “But you know what? If there’s something I’ve learned, it’s that doing the right thing doesn’t necessarily make you happy. In fact, it rarely does.”
Her statement takes me by surprise.
“So I shouldn’t have done it?”
“I don’t think it matters what you should have or shouldn’t have done. You’ve already done it. What matters now is what you want to do next.”
I sigh. “What do you think I should do?”
“Hmm.” Stella touches her chin. “Maybe talk to Asher and give him another chance?”
“What?”
“I’ve told you this before. Asher may be a jerk. He may be awfully clueless about how other people feel. But he’s not a bad person. I think all this time, he’s been searching for someone he can really be with, someone who can really understand him and be there for him, someone who can love him and teach him how to love.”
“You’re saying I should teach him to love me?”
“You love him, don’t you?”
That question takes me even more by surprise. What?
“I can see it in your eyes,” Stella says. “I heard it in your voice.”
She did?
“But you don’t have to admit it to me. It’s fine. You’re the one who needs to know it.”
But I don’t know if I do.
“Even if you’re right, I don’t want to force someone to love me.”
“I didn’t say force,” Stella says. “I said teach. Asher feels something for you. I’m sure of it. You just have to give him time to develop it into something more. You have to teach him how to.”
I shake my head. “Why do I have to do that?”
“Because maybe he doesn’t know how to love,” Stella answers. “And maybe because those who do don’t know how to give up on love.”
I say nothing, but I’m starting to understand what Stella is saying. What if she’s right? What if I asked too much of Asher like he said? What if I was too impatient? What if I didn’t really give him a chance?
~
I’m still thinking about those questions as I cross the lobby of The Mistral.
What do I do? Do I just forget the fight Asher and I had and all the hurtful things he said to me? Why do I always have to be the one to do something, to give in, to take a leap of faith? Why can’t he? Then again, can I stand not doing anything? Can I just leave things as they are?
Either way, I lose. And I hate losing. Isn’t there another way?
I’m almost to the elevator when I hear someone call my name.
“Violet!”
At the thought that it might be Asher, my heart leaps. But then it sinks as I turn my head and realize it’s not. It’s just Liam.
Wait. Liam? All the way from Switzerland?
“Violet!” He puts his arms around me. “How are you?”
“Good,” I answer automatically before giving him a puzzled look. “Liam, what are you doing here?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Asher
What am I doing here?
Yesterday, I caught Violet hiding in a cubicle on the verge of tears. After that, she disappeared. Today, she didn’t come in to work. According to Dylan, she isn’t feeling well but it’s nothing serious. Is that true? Something tells me it’s a lie.
If it is, shouldn’t I go check on her and ask her what’s wrong? What if she’s thinking of quitting because of me? And if it isn’t a lie, shouldn’t I go check on her and bring her something to make her feel better? She’s still one of my most valuable employees.
Why am I still here at the office?
It’s not because I no longer care. From the moment I saw her in her office the day after we had the fight, I realized I still do. And these past few days when Violet and I haven’t been able to talk—talk, not just discuss things about work—these past few days when I haven’t even seen Violet smile, I realized just how much.
I miss her. I miss her smile and the laughter which she always seems to be trying to suppress. I even miss her glares and her pouts and the way that she rolls her eyes and turns her nose up at me. I miss her hair and how it smells. I miss the warm softness of her lips. I miss the heat of her skin. I miss every nook and cranny of her beautiful body. I miss her pancakes. I miss her competitiveness, her stubbornness, her charm, her confidence and the vulnerability she’s only showed to me.
I miss her. I miss all of her.
But do I have a right to? Do I have a right to miss her after I hurt her so much? Do I have a right to still care about her when I’m still not sure I can give her what she wants? Do I have a right to want her back?
I think about that for a few seconds. Then I slam my hands on my desk as I get out of my chair.
Fuck it. I’m going to go see her.
~
Almost as soon as I ring the doorbell, I hear someone rushing to the door. My heart races. My fingers tighten around the bouquet of flowers I have in my hand.
Then the door opens and I see a man in the doorway, a tall man with blond curls and pale skin wearing the Canadian flag sweater that Violet and I bought at the gift shop of CN Tower. I frown.
He gives me a huge smile. “Hi.”
Who the hell is this guy? Why does he sound like he has a French accent? Or is it German? Most importantly, what is he doing in Violet’s apartment?
He looks at the bouquet I’m holding. “You must be Asher.”
He knows who I am?
“Yeah.” I offer him my hand. “Asher Hawthorne.”
