Page 75 of Love By Design
“Marshall is calling,” I said through a fresh wave of tears.
Lincoln made a knowing sound that made me cry harder. “Kay. Text me later.”
“I’m sorry.”
The phone beeped again.
“It’s fine, Silas. It’s normal,” he said. “I love you, and you’ll be fine.”
“I love you.” Another beep, and I accepted the call, hiccupping a sob into the receiver. “Hello?”
“Sorry I miss—” He cut himself off, like he had it allrehearsed but realized something was off. “Are you okay, Silas? What’s wrong?”
“Yes, I think. No, maybe. A lot is wrong.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Are you in danger?” he asked.
“No.” I laughed and choked on my own snot. “My dad.”
“Is he hurt?”
“No, he’s…he’s alive,” I said, forcing a breath. “He fired me.”
Marshall was as quiet as Lincoln had been, but then he asked me again, “Are you all right, Silas?”
“He’s mad I didn’t write the bid. He said it’s my fault he’s going to close.” I choked on a sob. “It’s a lot.”
“Yeah, I imagine it is.” His tone was as soft as his mouth when he’d almost kissed me for the very first time. “Where are you?”
“In my car at the office.”
“I’ll be home in twenty minutes. Meet me there.”
I’d never been more thankful for an order in my life.
“Yes, Sir,” I whimpered, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. It was embarrassing to be so upset over something I wanted, something I needed. My tears were creeping toward hysterical, and I didn’t think Marshall would ever cry this hard about anything in his whole life. My reaction was unstoppable, but every time I choked on my own tears, my body curled in on itself. I felt like an overly emotional child, and for as much as I didn’t want Marshall to see me like this, there was no place else I wanted to be.
CHAPTER 24
MARSHALL
Imade it home five minutes before Silas arrived. I’d barely had time to undo the cuffs of my shirt when he pulled into my driveway and cut the ignition. He sat in the driver’s seat for a while, a fact I knew only because I stood in the open doorway and watched him. He could have as much time as he needed, so I left the door open and headed back into the house. On the phone, he’d sounded inconsolable, but it appeared he had cried a lot of that out on the drive from work to my house. I was certain he had more in him, though, and together we would wring him dry of it.
Eventually, I heard his footsteps shuffle up the porch, then he kicked out of his shoes and moved them into their place against the wall. I’d never asked him to take off his shoes. He’d just…done it and never stopped, and if that wasn’t the best description of Silas as a person, I didn’t know what was.
“You look like you need a hug.” I greeted him from the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of wine. Alcohol was the last thing Silas needed, and I would make sure he didn’t get any.
He glanced up at me, eyes ringed red and the tip of his nose wet from tears or snot, or most likely both, and he shrugged.
“Even if you want one, I’m not offering. At least, not right now.”
“Alright,” he grumbled.
I chewed on my lip, studying him to make sure what I said to him really had time to sink in. This was a test for us both, because even though I was Silas’s boyfriend, I was still his Dom, and while it was easy for those two things to engage with each other most days, there were times when one or the other would have to take precedence. Whether we liked it or not. And Silas did need a hug. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and let him cry and protect him from whatever had gone down with his father, but first…
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