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I don’t know if I can.

“She did,” I admit.

“There you go. All you have to do is be man enough to compromise.”

If I want Sloan to even talk to me again, I’ll have to do way more than that. I’ve never willingly conceded anything to anyone in my life. I’ve never even tried to put someone else first. I don’t have a fucking clue where to begin. But I can’t expect my mom to draw a road map for me. I need to figure it out myself.

“Mom, what happened with Dad? Why did he leave? I know you loved him.”

“I did. Or I wouldn’t have given him twelve years and five children. But we married too young, right out of high school. He hit thirty…and realized he’d never pursued any of his dreams.”

My knee-jerk reaction is that he sounds like a selfish prick. But that’s my anger talking. Besides, haven’t I spent all the years he was getting married and having kids pursuing my own life?

Yeah. And I’m not any better for it. I’m a selfish prick, too.

“How did you cope after he left?” Because when I realized he was gone for good, I fucking hated him. To this day, I can’t wrap my head around the fact he simply walked away. We’d been close. He’d been involved in my Little League team, my Scouts. I’d idolized him.

And he just disappeared.

“Because he needed me to,” my mother says softly. “And I was strong enough to bear it.”

Her answer bowls me over. She’s spent a decade and a half single parenting, never having a partner to help or support her, simply because he couldn’t and she could? “I don’t understand. It’s so unfair to you.”

“You kids were my dream, not his. Besides”—she gives me a wistful sigh—“if you love something, set it free.”

If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be.

Fuck.

Then something else occurs to me. “Is that what you did with me, too?”

“When you left home for college, I knew there was a good chance I’d lose you. Your sisters were all happy to settle down and teach school, be stay-at-home moms, or work for the local florist. But I always knew you had bigger and brighter ambitions than a town of twelve thousand people allowed.”

So, like Dad, she let me go. That must have killed her.

I never once thought about that—until now.

The difference between me and my father? I might have been a selfish prick, but I refuse to remain one. “That doesn’t mean we aren’t still family.”

I can almost hear the smile in my mother’s voice, despite the fact she’s obviously choked up. “It doesn’t, son. If I haven’t told you, it’s so good to hear from you.”

Hell if that doesn’t choke me up, too. “It’s good to talk to you, Mom. What are your plans this week?”

She takes my change of subject and tells me about some volunteer work she’s doing at the local animal shelter, a ladies’ luncheon she’ll be attending with two of my sisters, and my niece’s upcoming dance recital. Honestly, I used to think all that shit was boring. Now, it sounds nice.

We hang up a few minutes later, after I promise to keep in touch and visit home when my youngest sister gives birth this summer.

After I set my phone aside, I sink back against the sofa and stare at the wall, thoughts pelting my brain.

By the time the Monday morning sun blares in my face, I know what I need to do to make things right with Sloan.

Not going to lie. I’m dreading today. It’s necessary; I know that.

But it will blow up my entire life.

The drive to Stratus’s office is over too quickly. I park in my reserved spot, then swipe my badge across the reader. At the clicking of the door, I push my way inside. Some fellow employees wave and ask where I’ve been. I hold up my hand, smile, and keep walking—straight for Evan’s office.

I’m a man on a mission.


Tags: Shayla Black Billionaire Romance