“What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. If you don’t act fast, you’ll end up losing the one person who can change your life for the better.” Just as I’m about to open my mouth and tell him I don’t need this, he throws up a hand to stop me. “You need to finally do what’s necessary to put Fallujah behind you, once and for all.”
My jaw clenches at the mention of my last mission, and I glare at him accusingly. “What the hell do you know about that?”
“I know enough, man. Know you did what was necessary to save the lives of your guys. But until you address that shit, you’re not going to be able to move on. It’s a choice. You either continue to suffer by staying the way you are, or suck it up and suffer the brief pain of changing for the better.”
I stare down at my burger, unseeing, my voice muted. “I’m not good enough for her.”
“Bullshit.”
My head whips up at the hushed vehemence in Kane’s tone.
“How do you feel when you’re with her? Does she make you feel like you’re not good enough?” he demands.
“No,” I answer slowly, not entirely sure I know where he’s headed with this line of questioning. Gazing toward the ocean view across the street from us, I blow out a long breath. “She makes me feel like a better person when I’m with her.”
“Because she loves you—the way you are.”
I don’t respond, instead caught up in the memory of Noelle’s words weeks ago. “…you’re missing out on me. Someone who loves you, someone who would love you … forever.” Only two weeks have passed and I fucking hate life and everything about it. Because she’s no longer a part of it.
“You need to take this. He’s top notch.” I look over to see Kane offering up a business card stuck between his index and middle finger. My eyes flicker to the card and back up to Kane. I know what card this is, and I don’t like it one bit. Even so, I reach out slowly to accept it, glancing down at the name printed on it.
Rolling my lips inward, I stare at it. Running my thumb over the writing, I know this is it. It’s time to deal with the past.
“You going to follow through?”
Without looking up, I nod slowly. “I’ll follow through.”
“You want me to come with you?”
My eyes dart up in surprise, expecting Kane to be joking, giving me shit like normal, but that’s not the case. He’s sincere.
“No, I’ll be good.” With a sigh, I pull out my wallet and tuck the business card safely inside.
“It’s time I man up and do this once and for all.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Noelle
“What the hell is this?” My entire body jolts at the accusatory tone in Foster’s voice. Shit, I was hoping he’d be too overwhelmed with our new site contracts and wouldn’t come across my resignation until after I left for the day.
Attempting to calm my nerves, I take a deep breath before I answer, my eyes trained on the document I’m currently working on. “It’s my resignation letter.”
There’s a beat of silence. Then, “I can see that.” Pause. “You’ve got another job lined up?”
“I don’t feel comfortable discussing this with you.” Hell, even I’m amazed at how calm and composed I sound.
“So you’re just planning on up and leaving us?”
Something in his tone sets me off and I find myself gritting my teeth. “I’m giving you far more notice than necessary, Kavanaugh.”
Which is true. My new job doesn’t have a start date for another month. I’ve already suffered through staying here for nearly two months, and it’s been torture. Absolute freaking torture. Offering a month’s notice on my resignation wasn’t my idea but I know it’s smart since my new job won’t be starting at the same pay scale as this one. I’d like to have some savings, just in case.
“Well, we’ll all … miss you.”
I can’t withhold the derisive sound I make at his comment. “I’m sure.”
“I’ll miss you.”
My entire body stills in shock not just at his words but at the underlying tenderness to them. Still refusing to meet his gaze, I force myself not to react. Hearing his chair slide back, he stands and clears his throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ve got to get going.”
My eyes dart down to the bottom corner of my computer screen, noting the time. Every single Tuesday and Thursday for the past eight weeks, Foster leaves at three o’clock in the afternoon. I recall his original request for me to block out these particular times on the schedule, and when I asked which site he would be at he informed me that it wasn’t work-related. He’s been tight-lipped about it, as has everyone else. If they know anything about it, that is, which it seems they don’t.
Was it a date? A booty call? Has he already started seeing someone else? But what was the deal with Tuesdays and Thursdays at three in the afternoon?
And why am I even wasting time thinking about this? It doesn’t matter anymore. He doesn’t matter anymore.
Yeah, right. I swear, it feels like Foster Kavanaugh will always matter to me.
If only I’d matter to him, too.
*