Page 147 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I

“Don’t give me that BS kiss off, Paisley. I thought we were friends.”

“We are but…” I press my lips and close my eyes to keep from crying.No more tears.I can’t think rationally if I’m crying. “We can’t ignore what I did. I can be in serious trouble. And also, I don’t want to come between you and Mason. I mean, look how long you waited for him. And now he’s yours. Don’t lose him because of me.”

She flops a hand toward her bedroom. “Don’t worry about him. However, what I hear you saying is that you need some distance because you’re in a period of emotional crisis at the moment.”

Tears stuck in my eyes, I snort a chuckle. “You pretty much nailed it.”

Lake walks over and hugs me. I hug her back, unable to stop the waterworks.

Chapter Fifty-One

A Period of Hibernation

Paisley Grove

I’m so drained that I can hardly keep my eyes open. The subway transports me back to Midtown in record time. The snow and haze haven’t let up, though. By the time I make it to my apartment, my coat is damp again. I’m shivering uncontrollably, but I’m not sure if I’m trembling because of the cold or the emotional breakdown that I’m in the midst of.

With my back pressed against the front door, I inhale so deeply that my lungs feel as if they’re going to burst. Hercules’s scent is in the air. On the ride home, I planned my next steps. But the smell of the man I love is giving me doubts.

First, I’ll delete Lark Davenport’s footprint from the face of the earth. Next, I need to create a new fake identity no one will be able to track and make her a bank account and an electronic debit card. Then go to a luxury resort and sleep a bunch of days away. Essentially, I was going to do what I’ve become very good at thanks to Max—hideout and isolate.

But is that what you really want, Paisley?a small voice asks in my head.

Do I want to be free, or not? Do I want to be brave, or not?

The answer to those questions makes me take heavy steps toward the credenza. I take out my real cell phone and make one difficult phone call. To make a different future, I have to address the past.

The phone rings.

“Paisley, sweetheart? It’s early. Is everything okay?” My mom sounds tired, but I can also hear the slight panic in her voice. She knows I would never call her this early in the morning unless something was wrong.

“No, Mom. Everything isn’t okay.” Then I ask if I can stay with them for a while.

Three Weeks Later

Something happened today… Something freaking-fantastic.

I was stuck in a rut after arriving at my parents’ Greenwich, Connecticut, estate three weeks ago. Mostly, I was sleeping the days away. My body and soul needed to recover from all of that lying I did while working at VTI. Occasionally, in the mornings, my mom or dad would peek in on me and ask if I need anything. I would sit up, flash a fake smile, and just say, “Only more rest.”

On several occasions, my mom asked what I was going to do that day. I perfected my fake smile and told her I was working on new software and that I would give her a demo when I was done. That answer always excited her. She always responded with some version of “I can’t wait.”

However, yesterday, it occurred to me that as far as my parents are concerned, I’m A-okay. Isolating myself in my room, doing brilliant shit, must remind them of old times.

But my mom doesn’t know that after she left me alone again, my happy Paisley mask came off, and I flopped back down on my mattress then stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep.

I didn’t care that I lied to my mom. I didn’t care about anything anymore. And so my parents gave me my space because they thought I was working on the latest and greatest software that GIT could steal from me and slap one of their engineer’s name on. I’d been thinking of how no one would ever know that I had developed TRANSPORT and Killer Firewall.

My parents also gave me space because that’s what they’ve been doing since I was a kid—tending to their business and giving me space to do what I “love.”

I also did tons of soul-searching while staring out the window or walking the grounds, bundled up to stay warm from the snow.Have I ever loved coding?I’m good at it, but I wasn’t sure that would have been my first choice if there weren’t so many emotional strings attached to it. Coding was how I connected with grandfather. It was how I made my parents happy. I think Max would’ve banished me to a place where little sisters are forgotten forever if I were of no value to him. So, I’ve been wondering: am I brilliant at coding because I needed to be in order to feel loved? And the funny thing is now that I’m an adult, my brilliant, famous, and extremely wealthy parents still spend more hours away from home than they do at home and together.

But this morning when I woke up, I had my answer. Yes, I love coding. Even though a lot of people got value out of my creations, I’ve always done it for me. It had been a huge epiphany, one I can feel deep down in my bones. And so, when I rose to my feet, I made a vow to myself. Today, I’ll live differently at my parents’ house. Then tomorrow, I will pack what little I have and leave.

Instead of languishing in bed, waiting for breakfast to arrive, I go for a swim. After stripping out of my jeans and T-shirt, I dive naked into the eighty-five-degree aqua-blue water of the indoor swimming pool. My arms stroke the silky water, as I try to figure out my next major life decision. I could get another job like the one I had at VTI. Better yet, I could start my own company and work as a contractor.

Then I let myself think about Max. I’m glad he’s chosen to keep his distance. Maybe he’s sensed that I needed space. Or maybe he doesn’t trust me anymore. A time existed when the thought of losing his confidence would’ve caused a dull ache in my belly. But not anymore. I glide from one side of the swimming pool to the other, feeling as light as a feather.

Call Lake,I think. Maybe she can brainstorm with me and help me figure out what to do with myself in the pivotal next phase of my life.