I notice his eyes. They’re cold. “Why?” I don’t even want to ask the question, but I know he’s giving me no other choice.
“Because what kind of life is this, Taylor?” He rises from his seat, moves to the front of the desk and leans against the edge. Unease floods me when I drop into the chair, listening to him continue. “You’re only nineteen. I’m twenty-nine.”
“Oh, please,” I retort, unable to look away from him, my heart pounding. “We are not going back to this, are we?”
“You’re young, Taylor,” he says, eyes soft. “You cannot deny that fact.”
I sigh, not wanting to have this conversation again. “Would you stop it. You’re only ten years older than me, and I’m happy with you.”
“That’s a lifetime at this age,” he counters sternly.
“No, it really isn’t, and I don’t want to talk about this.” Because I’m so damn sick of having this same conversation over and over again. I cross my arms, mirroring his brusqueness. “So what if you’re older than me? This works between us, and you know it.”
He stays put on the edge of the desk, looking as imposing as ever. One eyebrow slowly arches in disagreement. “What I know is that I’m busy working. I’m busy networking. I’m busy attending events to further my business that I cannot take you to.”
A lump rises in my throat at the flash of strength in his expression, the resolve in his eyes. “Well, then, you can fix that and take me to these events with you.”
He shakes his head, adamant. “You know why that can’t happen.”
I feel the harsh jab of rejection to my chest. Even so, I feel the need to push on and punish myself further. “Actually, no, I have no idea why that can’t happen.”
His arms lower to his sides, fingers wrapping tightly around the edge of the desk, knuckles white. “I have a reputation to uphold and dating a girl ten years younger than me can hurt that reputation.”
My chin trembles and an annoying tear slides down my face. I wipe it away quickly, wanting to be the woman he needs me to be. But he’s breaking my heart and I can’t stop from showing it.
His brows furrow as he pushes off the desk, moving to me. “Please don’t cry.” He takes my hands, lifting me to my feet and his warmth and strength surround me. I’m losing myself just that easily as his arms wrap around me tight, because that’s what he does to me. “You know I deeply care for you,” he adds softly, placing his chin on top of my head, “but what kind of life is this for you, Taylor?” He leans away, wiping my tears off my warm cheeks. “Coming to my office? Secret dinners at my house? Keeping you hidden from the world? This is wrong.”
“But it’s what I want,” I tell him fiercely.
He shakes his head, his warm eyes full of emotion. “It’s what you think you want.”
There are a hundred things to say, but only one stands out as most important. “You could give it all up for me. Choose me over your success.”
As warm as those eyes were a second ago, now they’re tight, burning with the fire of a determined man. “You know I can’t do that.”
Coldness strips me bare and I push out of his arms. “Why? Because you need to prove yourself to your shitty father? Prove yourself to me. I’m the one who matters here, no one else.”
He takes a couple steps back and leans against his desk again, fingers gripping the table. “I don’t want to hurt you. That’s not—”
“You are hurting me, Darius,” I state.
His eyes shut tight before he reopens them, strength in their depths. “It’s better to hurt you now than to break you later.”
“Taylor.”
I jump at my mother’s loud voice and turn to face her as she adds, “Sweetie, you’re going to mix that batter into nothing. I think it’s done.”
“Sorry,” I laugh softly, seeing my hand shake as I turn off the mixer.
That memory of Darius isn’t my favorite to remember, and I really hate that making cookies with my mother brings it back. I lift the beater out, then bring the bowl over to the waiting cookie sheets on the island.
Almost as if Mom can read my mind, she settles next to me and asks, “Have you seen Darius at all?”
While Darius kept our relationship quiet, I hadn’t. My parents knew and accepted our relationship because Darius was such a gentleman, and they knew he made me happy. I move to the sink, taking off my rings and washing my hands. “I did. When I stopped by Allie’s condo, he was there.”
“I see him all the time in the tabloids at the grocery store,” Mom says, grabbing a fork off the counter. “He’s so famous now. A billionaire, they say.” I return to her at the island as she adds, “He’s not married. Did you know that?”
“Yes, I knew.” I scoop some batter into my hands, forming a perfect ball.