“When are you going to admit to yourself that you’re in love with her?” Estelle asked suddenly.
Her words came at me hard, pushing a boulder of pressure against my chest. Love. I’d told her I thought I was falling in love with her when she’d been lying in my arms. All this time apart did nothing to diminish my feelings for her. Nothing. If anything, it made me realize how much I was missing. No late-night talks about our days. No humorous discussions. No kissing. No fucking. No . . . light. No Nicole. Fuck. And I realized Estelle was fucking right. How did that happen? There was no way around it. No point in denying it. I was in love with her and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I’d known it in that hotel room. I may have known it before then. Who knew? Love was a strange thing. But the more time that passed without seeing each other, and the longer she was in Argentina, the clearer it became that I’d lost her. Probably for good. Maybe I’d have to come to terms with the fact that I let go of the one woman who made me want to settle down once and for all.
“I . . .” I started, but stopped.
“Dude. She’s right,” Oliver added.
I closed my eyes, but it was useless, because all I could picture was Nicole’s smile when she looked at me, her laugh when she made fun of me, the way her blue eyes lit up when she saw me walk near her. And fuck, I loved all of that. I loved the way she tried to hold back her emotion from the world but let me see it. I loved the way she let me see all of her, unfiltered. And my sister was right. I was in love with her.
“This is you admitting it?” Jensen asked with a laugh. I opened my eyes and looked around the room, at him, at Mia, Oliver, Estelle, and finally, at baby Grayson.
“I . . . it doesn’t matter. I can’t . . . it doesn’t matter what I feel,” I said.
“Shit. Victor stuttering and at a loss for words. This is big,” Mia said.
“I fucking lost her,” I said quietly. “The one girl I could stand to be near when she chewed her food and got all emotional and shit . . . and I fucking lost her.” Again, I wanted to add, but didn’t.
“You haven’t lost her yet,” Estelle said with a small smile.
I loved my sister. She was a pain in my ass most of the time, but she encouraged me when I needed it. I haven’t lost her yet . . . but it didn’t take away from the fact she was still in another country with her ex. I decided to call her. What else could I do? But her phone went straight to voicemail. Once. Twice. Three times. Finally, I sent her a simple three-worded text message in hopes she’d get it. Thankfully they hadn’t pushed me for more, because there wasn’t much I could offer. I wanted to fight but I had no idea how. The only thing I’d ever had to fight for was my career. My love life always sorted itself out. Fuck.
Later that week in the office, I snapped at everybody. Corinne cringed every time she walked into my office to drop off a paper, and I didn’t blame her. I was sick of her, William, Grace, Bobby, and everybody else I had to see. The next time somebody knocked on my door, I growled a loud, “What?”
Bobby.
“Did your promotion come with a pissy attitude?” he asked as he stepped in.
I took a deep breath and put down my pen so I could massage my temple. When I knew I wouldn’t snap, I dropped my hands and looked at him.
“What’s up?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Not really,” I said, letting out a breath. The last thing I needed was to talk about it. I went from being upset at myself for letting her go, to being pissed off at her for going and going with him. Him. The guy who had treated her like shit, cheated on her, let himself be seen in public with other women, and then there was the ice cream parlor thing . . . I just . . . I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t.
“Okay. You want to go watch the game, have a drink? Maybe it’ll help you sort your shit out.”
“I’m fine,” I growled. “Nothing to sort out.”
“Dude. Everyone in the office is fucking scared to talk to you right now. This has been going on for a week. You really don’t think we realize you have a problem?”
My hands formed fists. I ground my teeth together to keep myself from lashing out. The moment I felt my heart tighten and thought of the heart attack scare my dad went through a couple years ago, I realized I couldn’t do this anymore.
“I have to go talk to Will,” I said, standing from my chair and heading toward his office. I knocked once, twice, and raised a hand to knock once more before he shouted for me to come in. He was sitting on the other side of his desk with his eyes closed, the lights dimmed down as he listened to one of those relaxation podcasts he’d been into as of late. He’d even gone as far as to email one of the links to me, which I deleted without opening.