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I didn’t know what to do for her because I’ve spent all this time worrying about buildings instead of people. I lost my parents, so I thought that was it. There was nothing else for me to concern myself with but building a legacy that surpassed them.
I’m the one who did this to myself, and now to Maddie.
Getting dressed feels worthless. None of this shit matters, either. None of the custom suits or tailored shirts or expensive watches. What the fuck are they worth? When it comes down to it, I’ll be alone because I don’t know how to love anyone anymore. I don’t let them close so they don’t let me close.
And I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to wipe her tears away and to make whatever it was that hurt Maddie vanish.
I was focused on the wrong damn things in the first place.
Once I’ve got my shirt buttoned up, I put my head in my hands and force myself to breathe.
No. This is not how I wanted things to go. If she’s going to push me away, I need her to know that I don’t want her to. I need her to know that I…that I…fuck!
I don’t know what to do for the rest of the day. I pace around my apartment, waiting to see if she’ll call.
Eventually, I’m ready to admit that I’m the one who has to choose what I’m going to do. I can’t keep waiting. So I make the decision to go down to the lobby and check in with the doormen.
I need to reset my view of the property, of Maddie, and of my entire life.
The ground floor is the best place to start.
I dress, double check to make sure I have my phone and wallet, and head for the door. My penthouse feels empty without Maddie. It’s always been too much space for one person, but I ignored that feeling because it was a status symbol. A man like me issupposedto have a penthouse. It’s what’s best. It’s the crowning jewel. But what the fuck good is a king without his queen?
In reality, a man like me is supposed to know better. He should understand that he can’t just waste away by himself, alone in his penthouse, counting piles of money that do fuck all to fill the gaping hole in his chest.
He should’ve known from the beginning that all the money would never be enough.
In the elevator, I lean against the wall and tell myself over and over again that it’s not too late.
I don’t even know what it’s not too late for.
My phone rings as I’m stepping out of the elevator, and my heart pounds thinking it’s her.
It isn’t.
“Hey, Scott,” I say into the phone, trying to hide my disappointment. “I’m on my way to the office.”
“Oh, please. You can spare a couple minutes for me.”
“Yeah.”
“We need to get together again. What are your plans on Thursday? All my wife talks about is seeing you two again.”
You two.
I go the opposite way from the lobby, following the hall without looking where I’m going until I find an alcove with a bench.
“I’m not sure I can make that happen.”
“What?” Scott laughs, like I’ve made a hilarious joke. “We all want to see her again, and we’re sick of seeing you twice a year.”
“You see me twice a year because I’m busy.”
“We’re all busy,” he argues, still laughing. “We can’t let you slip away, man. That’s how you lose people.”
“I…” What am I supposed to say to that? Not having dinner together isn’t how youlosepeople. They work themselves to death and die. That’s how you lose them. And I don’t think eating at fancy restaurants will do anything to stop that.
Except...he’s right. I felt miserable last night because there was nobody to call. Nobody I wanted to talk to except Maddie. Because I’ve pulled myself away from all of them. “I know that.”