Page 94 of The Billionaire's Redemption

Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I let out a sigh. “I didn’t mean that. Look, I’ve spent enough time around Braxton and his friends to know when a man is looking at me with that sort of intent. Roland isn’t. He’s not interested in me. He just likes me for some reason. That’s all. I’m not that unlikable.”

I meet his gaze. “You shouldn’t have been so rude to him. He’s one of your biggest investors. You shouldn’t have screwed yourself over because of me.”

“I don’t trust him.” Ethan’s reply is curt, and from the set of his jaw, I know he’s not going to listen to reason.

I just roll my eyes. “He was upset. You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why do you care so much about his feelings? You barely know him.”

The tension in his voice has me bristling. “You had better not be saying what I think you’re saying.”

He looks away, and my shoulders slump. “Why are you here? Were you following me?”

He tucks his hands in his pockets, his eyes returning to me and running over me. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“You had my phone number.”

He doesn’t answer for a few seconds. “I thought you might not want to hear from me.”

“And since when have you become so considerate?”

I sit down on the bench, feeling tired. When he doesn’t move, I look up at him. “I don’t want to get a crick in my neck. Sit down.”

He obeys.

I look down at the phone in my hands, anxiety building up. “There’s something we have to discuss.”

“I’m not accepting your resignation, Natalie.”

I go still. “Is that why you haven’t contacted me for the penalty fees?”

He looks at me, and his lips twist in a wry smile. “You must really have a low opinion of me if you think that I was actually going to collect that penalty fee.”

I don’t know what it is, his words or his tone, but my heart feels funny in my chest. “You had Jake draw up that contract, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” He takes his sweet time in answering. “I knew that you would have left the moment you saw me. I needed to give you a reason not to leave. I thought if I spent enough time with you, you would be able to move past what happened five years ago. I didn’t realize your hatred for me would run so deep.”

My lips part. “I don’t hate you.”

He doesn’t look at me now. “I see.”

“Why?” I turn to face him. “Why did you go to that extent?Why did you want me cornered like that? Five years is a long time, Ethan. I need to know the truth.”

He hesitates—the first time I have seen him do so—and then he reaches into his jacket’s inner pocket to bring out something, placing it in my hands.

It’s a scrunchie. A faded purple scrunchie.

For a moment, I stare at it. “I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“You were wearing it that night five years ago. I’ve been carrying it around ever since.”

Whatever I was going to say is stuck in my throat as I study the faded hair accessory.

“Why?” I finally choke out. There’s a pressure in my chest, my heart beating so fast I can barely keep up. “Why would you keep this ridiculous thing? It was—I just got it that morning from a drugstore. I didn’t—Why?”

The desperate question is ripped from my soul, and Ethan gently picks up the scrunchie from my palm. “It was all I had of you. I came back that night, maybe an hour later. I knew I fucked up. I made a mistake. In those few dates we had, I had already fallen for you, Natalie. I thought I would come back and tell you the truth, and we could start over. But you were gone. When I went to your apartment, you weren’t there anymore. You just disappeared without a trace. I spent days looking for you.”