Romance By the Book by Sarah Ready

Will

It’sa tense car ride to the Duportes’ bed and breakfast. No one speaks, not even when I drop them off and they climb out of the car. I park in the lot. I have no idea what to do or where to go.

I lost her.

My mind keeps replaying the loop of Jessie and Gavin kissing, then Jessie on the phone, her expression removing all doubt.

I lost her.

I lost her. I lost her.

When I let the Duportes in and led them toward the savory breakfast smells and the quiet voices in the kitchen, I was thinking about leaving the entertaining of the Duportes to Gavin. I wanted to grab Jessie, pull her back upstairs and spend a full day in bed.

Gavin has never cooked a day in his life, so when I woke up and smelled toast and bacon and coffee, I knew it was Jessie cooking for us. I grinned at the ceiling like a lunatic. I felt like the luckiest man in the world. I have millions of dollars, offices around the globe, exotic homes, and none of it ever made me feel one tenth the joy of that moment.

I jumped out of bed, threw on clothes and hurried downstairs. When I saw the Duportes pull up I was disappointed, but then I heard Gavin’s voice with Jessie in the kitchen and I knew I could leave them with him and haul Jessie away.

Until we walked in and I saw the kiss.

The world stopped. At first, I didn’t understand. I saw them, their lips touching, but it didn’t make any sense. My mind completely rejected it as a possibility. Then I heard Lacey gasp and my mind jerked, restarted and caught up with reality.

Which was, first, Jessie and Gavin were kissing less than three hours after Jessie and I had made love. Second, Jessie confirmed without a doubt that she and Gavin are soul mates.

“I lost her,” I say out loud.

I look out over downtown. The bed and breakfast is on a hill and has a panoramic view of Main Street, the river, and the forested mountain in the distance. It’s nearly eight in the morning and downtown Romeo is waking up. The lights are on in the dance studio and the Kwans are unlocking the front door of the hardware store. I see the Harts setting up a new chocolate display in their front window, and Mrs. Charles is pushing a cart of books onto the sidewalk. I stare at the books and think of Jessie spread out beneath me, a pile of books surrounding us.

I love you, she’d said. I close my eyes. I love you.

My hands clasp the steering wheel. The endless loop of her kissing Gavin and phoning Erma is interrupted by the memory of her words. I love you.

My mind starts to settle and I unclasp my hands from the steering wheel. I told Jessie it was all a game. My mouth tastes of shame at the memory. When I said it, I felt like I’d boarded a speeding train and I couldn’t stop it or derail it. Everything I’d always feared had happened. I’d given myself to Jessie, wanted her more than anything in the world. When I was young, my father would take people away. This time, when I risked more than I ever have before, fate took Jessie away.

It felt the same, but more cruel. And when it happened, my emotions shut down and I went backwards more than a decade. I was that boy again—the fifteen-year-old in the tree, telling the girl I loved that I didn’t want her and didn’t need her.

That it was a game.

My shoulders tense. I’m seeing a vision of the next thirty years. That image of Jessie in the field with her children? In it, her soul mate’s back was turned—is that because I knew all along she’d choose Gavin?

No.

I take a deep breath. I’m not a kid anymore. I’m not beholden to old patterns and old emotions.

I’m going to go back, tell Jessie I’m sorry and that I love her. Then I’m keeping my promise and carrying her off to be mine.

The only person who is stopping me from being with her, is me.

I pull out of the lot and make it back to the house. It’s a few minutes past eight. I rush into the house and pause to listen. I hear voices coming from the living room. I hurry toward them.

Gavin is talking with Jessie. He may be my brother and my best friend, but he’s going to have to step aside or we’re going to have problems.

I walk through the arched entry to the living room and come to a sudden stop. Jessie and Gavin are on the couch. Jessie’s face is turned to Gavin’s and she’s speaking passionately. Gavin is completely absorbed in what she’s saying. He reaches out and squeezes her hands, then her face lights up and she throws her arms around him. He holds her.

The breath whooshes out of me. The hollow place in my chest that I thought had been filled expands and starts to swallow me. I feel the coldness come over me—the protective layer I used to keep away the pain of losing the people I love.

I slowly take a quiet step backward, then another, until I’m back in my car and heading south toward NYC.

When I saw Jessie hug Gavin, another thought came to me. That book. The one Jessie showed me with hundreds of soul mates. All of them were happy, married, in love and together for their whole lives.

If I took Jessie and married her, would she regret it two years, ten years, twenty years from now? She may not love Gavin today, but she could in the future. And the love she said she feels for me, it could turn into a cage of resentment and disillusionment.

There’s a saying which I always thought was trite and stupid—if you love someone let them go.

It’s not trite, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

I’ve loved Jessie from the first moment I saw her. For twenty years I’ve been holding onto her. It’s time I let her go.

I want her to be happy. I want Gavin to be happy. Now, I suppose I’m glad I told Jessie it was all a game. It lets her be free to have a future without any guilt or regret or what ifs. She can think of me as a malicious bastard and I can stay far away.

I makeit to my Manhattan office by lunch. Justin Van Cleeve, the extremely expensive lawyer that I keep on retainer, meets me at the elevator door. He’s usually immaculately dressed in a business suit and tie, but today his suit is wrinkled and his tie is undone. He has bags under his eyes.

“I’ve been calling and texting since last night,” Justin says. “You’ve got DEFCON 1 here. Were you in the hospital? Dead? Abducted by aliens? Will, you’ve got problems.”

I shove aside the pain of Jessie and Gavin and focus on Justin. A business crisis. Since last night? Not the merger then.

Perfect.

I can handle business. It doesn’t require emotions, or friendship, or feelings.

“What is it? Get me up to speed.”

We walk into my office. Justin closes the glass door and lowers the blinds. “Your assistant booked your jet to London. He has your suitcase and passport ready. The helicopter lands on the roof to take you to the airport in”—he looks at his watch—“twenty minutes.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Any reason I’m flying to London today?” Not that I’m unhappy about the distraction.

Justin rubs his eyes. He looks like he had a terrible night. “There’s an army of lawyers camped out in your London office. With your father. He’s claiming legal ownership of the entire company. It’s garbage, but they’ve got thousands of pages of documents and enough legal weaselry to stall your company’s progress and earnings for years. It’s takeover attempt number three. Your father said, and I quote, ‘I’m not leaving this office until Will meets me face to face like a man instead of hiding behind his two-bit lawyer like a frightened child.’ Frankly, I take offense at the two-bit jab.”

Justin finishes his pronouncement and waits for my response.

I do the only thing I can. I laugh, and when I see the shocked expression on Justin’s face I laugh even harder.

“It was aliens,” he says. “They abducted you, didn’t they?”

Which makes me laugh even more. Justin stares in shock. And suddenly I realize that in the five years he’s worked with me he’s never seen me laugh. He’s constantly making jokes, but I doubt I ever even cracked a smile.

I’d kept myself locked away and everyone at a distance.

I stop chuckling and wipe my eyes. I’m looking forward to this meeting with my father. It’s time I moved past the past.

“Did the Duporte lawyers contact you about the merger falling apart?”

“What?” Justin asks. He drops his face into his hands and moans. “Will, what have you been doing?”

Guess not.

“You realize this means you get to rack up billable hours, right? You should be breaking out the champagne at your windfall. A takeover attempt and a merger failure all in one day. Happy times for lawyer-kind.”

Justin lifts his head. “Who are you and where is the real Will Williams? The real Will is a scary efficient, robotic genius who doesn’t understand humor. What have you done with him?”

I smile, but it’s covering a sharp pain. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to go back to how I was, or if opening up to Jessie changed me forever. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, ignoring Justin’s comment.

It shouldn’t take too long to get rid of an army of lawyers. While I’m at it I can forget about Jessie. Or at least practice not thinking about her every minute of every day.

It’searly morning when I arrive at the London office. The city is covered in a wet, gray, misty rain. The streets are full of puddles and water run-off and everyone but me has an umbrella. Which means that when I step into the conference room, I’m damp and chilled.

I look around the space. Justin was wrong, it’s not an army of lawyers, merely fifteen to twenty. I’m certain that only one of them has been practicing long enough to be a senior partner. I focus on him.

“Leave us,” I say.

The older lawyer glances at my father.

My father, who I’d avoided looking at, nods. The lawyer gestures to his team of colleagues and they file out of the conference room.

I stand stone still, my hands folded behind my back, as they file past me. The last one out closes the door. Finally, I shift my gaze to my father. I haven’t seen him since his last takeover attempt before my twenty-first birthday. His hair is thinning at the edges and turning silver. I remember with some surprise that he turned sixty this year. He’s not as large as I remember and his presence doesn’t have the same effect on me anymore.

“Well, I’m here,” I say. “What now? The usual? You make threats with your lawyers. I make threats back. I win, you go back to Dubai and your mistress for another few years?”

My father doesn’t seem to hear. He’s taking in my appearance, cataloging all the details, like a man who thought he’d seen his last sunrise but is finally seeing another.

I stand awkwardly, hands clasped behind my back, and wait for him to respond. Finally he sighs and nods at the table.

“Tea?” he asks in a gruff voice.

There’s a tea service on the long conference table. Buttery scones, chocolate biscuits, jam and clotted cream, a large teapot and mugs. My throat tightens as I think about tea and Jessie. I wonder what my twelve-year-old self would’ve told her about this meeting.

I shove the thought aside.

“No,” I say. “Let’s get down to business. This will be your last takeover attempt. The next time you try, I will ruin you. I’m done playing.” I sit in a leather chair and lean back.

My father takes a seat diagonal to me and pours himself a cup of tea. Steam puffs up and is followed by the scent of bergamot and black tea leaves.

I close my eyes. Does everything have to evoke her?

“How’s your brother?”

Something’s different. I look at my father. Really look. “Gavin’s fine.” Then, “What’s happened?”

He gives me a sheepish smile. “I’m a dad again. You have a brother.”

I’m stunned. He’s…what?

“Delia and I got married. She wants a big family.” He holds out his hands and gives another sheepish smile.

My eyebrows lower. I have another brother? My heart starts to thump and I realize I already love him, within ten seconds of learning he exists, I love my baby brother.

My breath catches. I wonder what leverage my father will use, what upper hand he’ll try to gain if he sees I care. I want to ask a thousand questions. What’s his name, how old is he, what’s he like, what color are his eyes, does he smile?

I school my features into an expressionless mask. But still, I care about this baby boy that I may never meet.

I lean forward, surprised at the vehemence I feel, and address my father. “If I hear even a whisper of a rumor that you treat your son the way you treated Gavin and me, I will destroy you. I will take you apart piece by piece and leave you ruined.”

My father takes a drink of tea, not perturbed in the least. He sets down the cup, then, “Good. I’ll hold you to that.”

“Excuse me?”

He frowns and drags his hand over his chin. “I’ve spent a good majority of the past seven years thinking about my life and regretting most of it. There’s a lot I did that I’ll never forgive myself for. Especially how I treated you boys. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

I swallow a lump in my throat. His words sound eerily similar to ones I said only a few days ago.

He continues, “Delia has helped me look forward. She’s certain I can learn from my mistakes, acknowledge what I did, and not do it again. Move forward.”

“Yet here we are,” I say. “Another takeover attempt.”

My father shifts uncomfortably. “Funny enough, the only way in the past ten years I’ve been able to see you is when I’m trying to take over your company.” He shrugs. “I wanted to speak with you.”

I stare at him. “You hired two dozen lawyers so we could have a chat over tea?”

He clears his throat. “Three dozen,” then, “Delia said it was a bad idea.”

I spread my hands. “Obviously.”

My father nods. “I don’t have the right to ask for a relationship. I don’t expect one. I put all my fears and self-loathing on you boys, and for that I’m sorry. It took me nearly sixty years to grow up.”

I study him. He’s in an understated suit, unlike his former flashy Armani suits. He wears a simple gold wedding band and I allow myself to see that he seems relaxed, content with himself, centered.

“About destroying me and tearing me apart for my son…”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to invite you to his christening. His name’s Tyler.” He pulls out his wallet and flips it open to a small photo of a tiny baby in a blue hat and a diaper. A dark-haired woman smiles down at him. My chest hurts looking at the picture.

“Is that Delia?”

“That’s her. We’re married now. Two years in November.”

I nod. I didn’t even know my dad had remarried.

“When’s the christening?”

My dad smiles and it’s filled with enormous relief and gratitude.

“I’m not doing it for you,” I say. “I’m doing it for my brother. Every kid deserves as much unconditional love from as many people as possible.”

My dad sniffs and blinks his eyes. “Good. Good,” he says in a gruff voice. He holds out his hand to shake. I grasp it in a firm grip. I don’t think I’ve ever shaken his hand before.

“I never told you,” he says. “but I’ve always been proud of you. Tremendously proud.”

I frown. “Because I became the focused businessman you wanted?”

He shakes his head. “Because no matter how hard I tried to ruin it, you kept your ability to care.”

I stare down at the table, unable to look at him. It was Jessie that did that for me. If I hadn’t met her, if I hadn’t fallen in love at first sight, if she hadn’t given me The Horse and His Boy, and all her years of smiles, I would’ve lost the ability to care long ago.

I stand up abruptly and shove back the chair. “I have to go.”

My father looks stunned. I hand him my card with my private cell number. “Send the details. I’ll be there.”

“Will you tell Gavin? I don’t have any way of contacting him. He doesn’t have a company to mock-take over for catch-up chats. I’d like to ask him to come.”

“I’ll tell him.”

My dad nods then offers his hand again. I take it and give him a firm clasp.

“Thank you,” I say.

“For what?”

“For reminding me of something I’d forgotten.”

I leave him standing in the conference room and rush down to the busy streets of London. There’s a passage I underlined in Jessie’s copy of The Horse and His Boy. In it Aslan tells Shasta that no one is told any story but their own. I don’t know Jessie’s story. I don’t know if it’s true whether or not Gavin is her soul mate. Her story isn’t mine, although our stories intersect. But I know my story, and in it I’ve loved Jessie all my life, with all my heart. Right now, I don’t know the ending, but I do know the next chapter.