Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
He finally responded a few hours later while I was running on the treadmill in the executive gym at the office. As I stood there on the skids, the belt whirring between my feet without me, I opened his text.
It was an uncaptioned photo of Roman gazing at Scotty. I could tell from the background the photo had been taken at the beach on Saturday. Scotty was laughing at something someone else was saying, and Roman stood several feet away with his head turned in Scotty’s direction.
It was clear why Hugh had sent this specific shot. The look of utter adoration on Roman’s face was impossible to miss. This was the reason Hugh did what he did. So that Roman and Scotty could look back at this picture and remember that moment. That gut-clenching feeling. The connection that made all the risks and vagaries of life worthwhile.
I typed back.
Oscar
You’re an incredible artist.
Hugh
I only captured what was already there. Everyone deserves to be looked at like that.
He was right. And no one deserved it more than he did. I swallowed the anxiety crawling up my throat.
Oscar
You’ll find your person, Hugh.
After a moment with no response, I typed again.
Oscar
Don’t compromise.
Hugh
I won’t. I think I understand things better now. It was good to see you, Oscar. Take care of yourself, okay?
I stared at the goodbye message, and my stomach churned. I wanted to ask him what he understood… but I was pretty sure I knew.
I’d expected the price for my crossing the line this weekend to be high, but I hadn’t known it would be this high. That it would be… everything.
And yet, maybe it was for the best. Now that I knew what it was like to hold Hugh all night, now that I knew what wedding champagne tasted like on his lips, it would be harder to keep my distance. Harder to convince myself not to give love a try, just one more time, because surely this time would be different.
I snorted. Like I hadn’t told myself that a hundred times before.
I gritted my teeth and responded.
Oscar
You too.
And then I put the phone down and jumped back on the treadmill.
I spent the following two months aggressively pursuing any new business that would take me halfway around the world—the further away from my current location, the more time zones I crossed, and the more I lost touch with what was happening in New York, the better. I spent so many nights on my plane that Frank became best friends with my cabin steward. Any few moments of free time I found, I filled with new charity initiatives Lesya set up for me through our foundation.
Still, I made a point of deleting the TikTok app I’d downloaded months ago and blocked the site on my laptop; there was no point in me searching for Real Life HEAs, so it was best to avoid temptation.
Lesya seemed to recognize I was dealing with something emotionally heavy because she volunteered to travel with me, even though this meant taking a break from her social racquetball league and leaving her cranky old mutt with a neighbor.
“Chuckie keeps texting you new project ideas,” she said one evening in a taxi through London on our way to a dinner event. I’d long since given her custody of my phone after 5:00 p.m. most days since I couldn’t be trusted not to text Hugh once the sun was down. “He wants to know if you have any contacts with ‘big-ass lawns’ who might be interested in testing out his RoboMower prototype.”
I grunted acknowledgment. “Put him in touch with the groundskeepers at my Greenwich house. Tell Chan I said to let Chuckie try out the prototype anywhere he wants.”
“Okay. He also asked if you can help him figure out where to apply to college. His counselor at school sounds like they’re phoning it in, and he’s worried about applying for the right scholarships.”
“Yeah, of course. Set something up.”
I flipped through another page of a legal contract on my tablet. Raindrops sparkled on the window glass beside me, throwing speckled light across my dark suit pants. The muted blur of London commuters in dark jackets and umbrellas crowded the sidewalks on either side of the road.
“Do you want to take him for pizza or plan a sit-down at the office?”
“Sure, fine.” I waved a hand.
I felt her stare at me. Lesya was exceptionally skilled at her silent reproach. I let out a sigh and gave her a terse “What?”
Too late, I realized what she’d asked. “Sorry,” I muttered. “I was distracted. Ask him if he wants his mom to join us and if he wants me to come to him or host him somewhere. Whatever works best for them is fine with me.”
She nodded. “Good call. While I’m at it, I’ll book an appointment with Leandro. Have you seen your hair lately?” When I raised an eyebrow, she stared back defiantly. “It’s giving… scarecrow.”