The tone of Mark’s voice changed during our conversation. As did the gentle nudge he had given me to come visit him and his new wife, Charlie. The moment he heard the broken in my voice—in me—his suggestion became an insistence. As much as I wanted to say no, how could I? Mark’s my family. My cousin. My oldest friend.
Now, here I am.
Through the glass doors, I can see him waiting for me. That smile of his spreads wide across his face when he sees me. He steps into the sunshine and pulls me in for a hug.
“About damn time you got here.”
There we stand, two large men on the sidewalk just hugging it out. Quite a sight for passersby.
“Come inside,” he says. “Let me show you around.”
We enter the building, and Mark immediately begins to tell me about the finer points of Cole Security. By the time we reach his office, he’s in full sales pitch mode.
“Just cut to the chase.”
“Come work with me.” Straight and to the point.
If only he had mentioned that on the phone, I wouldn’t have bothered coming.
“No.”
“No?” He chuckles. “What else do you have to do?”
Avoid Virginia for starters. Sure, at one time, this was home, but home isn’t where the heart is. Not for me, at least. Instead, it holds memories—bad memories—things I’d rather just forget.
Like the visual of Norah in bed—our bed—with another man. Not just any man. No. She went straight for my best friend. Finding them in bed together shattered my world. Not only had I been betrayed by the two people I cared about the most, I also lost them at that moment as well. There was no forgiving what they had done. There was no coming back from it.
“Not stay here.”
“Oh, come on,” Mark scoffs. “That was five years ago. Get over it already.”
“Get over it? What if it was Charlie? Do you think you would be able to just get over it?”
“If she cheated on me? Fuck, yeah, I would.” Mark’s hand claps down on my shoulder. “Norah doesn’t deserve to occupy any space in your mind… or your heart.”
Easier said than done.
“Listen, I know what happened hurt you, but it’s not the end of the world.” He nods toward my knee. “Neither is that injury. You just need a fresh start.”
“And what… you’re offering me my fresh start?”
“Serving it up on a silver platter, actually. You said yourself, this company sounds amazing. Well, it is, and you can be a part of it.”
I run my hand through my hair. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to give me an answer this second, but at least think about it.”
I give him a non-committal nod.
“How’s the knee?”
That probably should have been a question he asked before he offered me a job. I’m doing okay, but depending on the assignments, I’m not sure how well my knee will hold up or how much help I can actually be.
I shrug. “It’s manageable.”
“That good, huh?”
“Yeah, but it could be worse.” It was worse, a lot worse, in fact. Bedridden for weeks. Barely able to walk for more. Then there was the limp. All of which has improved, thankfully. The only thing left is the knowledge that one false move could land me in a wheelchair and a sporadic sharp pain that likes to kick in at the most inopportune times.