“When are you going to snap out of this?” Jackson walked into my office, catching me off guard even though he never bothered to be quiet when he entered without knocking. “When you were with her, you were boring. But now, you’re super boring.”

I ignored his comment—like all the others. “I hired some new dancers. They’ll start this Friday night. I think it’ll shake up the entertainment.”

“Dancers?”

“In cages with gas masks.”

“Ooh…maybe you’re a little less boring.”

I cracked a smile—a fake one. “I’ve got a new vendor who asked me to put his vodka in our bar. Tastes pretty good, so I thought I would give it a try.”

“New booze. That’s always nice.” He fell into the armchair and interlocked his fingers behind his neck. “So…I talked to Isabella today.”

“I sincerely hope you didn’t tell her I was available. It’s one thing to reject a woman when I have a partner. But it’s just cruel to reject her when I’m free.”

“Reject her?” He moved his arms to the armrests. “I assumed you two would pick up where you left off.”

“No.” I didn’t do back-to-backs. Wasn’t my thing. I’d had a long relationship with Isabella. It had its ups and downs, but it was over. I couldn’t put it more simply than that. “I’m not looking for anything right now.”

“Why? They say you should get back on the horse, right?”

“There’s only one horse I want to get on.”

He rolled his eyes. “Still brooding over her, huh?”

I pressed my fingertips together, what I usually did when I sat at my desk and busied myself with depressing thoughts. “Yes, Jackson. Just as devastated as I was last week.”

He knew I wasn’t in the mood for his taunts. “Why don’t you just make it work with her?”

“She doesn’t want to be my sub.”

“Then don’t make her. Just be her boyfriend. If you’re this miserable anyway, what’s the harm in making the compromise?”

“I can’t do that.” I shook my head, my jaw clenched. It wasn’t in my nature. I was surprised our vanilla sex had lasted as long as it did. If it were any other woman, I would have lost interest a long time ago.

“Then how about you meet each other halfway?”

“There is no halfway, Jackson. Maybe you need to get your IQ checked.”

“What if she’s not your sub, and you aren’t her boyfriend?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Then what are we?”

“Whatever you were before. But you do your Dom stuff without her around.”

“So, you want me to cheat on her?”

“I never said cheat.” He held up a finger like he was correcting me. “A Dom needs control. He needs to be obeyed from beginning to end. You could get what you need from a different arrangement so you don’t feel frustrated with Rome. I’m sure Isabella wouldn’t mind being bossed around again—even if she doesn’t get sex.”

The idea had never crossed my mind. But it didn’t sound so bad. I would love to have someone submit to me again, to not even look me in the eye unless I gave her explicit permission. Rome was far too strong to bow to me—even though I loved that about her. It was a contradiction, one that didn’t make any sense.

“What do you think?” Jackson asked. “It’s a win-win.”

“I doubt Rome would be happy about it.”

“Who said she has to know? You didn’t tell her about Ruin for six months.”

I still didn’t like the idea. “Thanks for trying to help, but I can’t do that.”

He shrugged and leaned back into the chair. “Then, what? How long are you going to mope around for?”

Probably forever. “I don’t know…”

“What is it about this chick? You’ve been exactly the same guy forever. But the second she came into your life, you changed. And even though she’s gone, it doesn’t seem like you’ll go back to who you were. She changed you permanently.”

She did. Now I had a permanent scar on my skin. My lips would always contain her kiss. My hands would always carry her smell. The backs of my eyes were carved with the image of her face. She stole so much from me, and she didn’t even know it. “Yeah, I think she did.”

“And you really can’t make it work with her?” he asked incredulously. “If she’s the one…she’s the one.”

I cared about Rome a great deal, but I wouldn’t go that far. A connection existed between us, and she had my undying commitment. I felt differently toward her than I did with other women. She was special, there was no doubt about it. But I couldn’t give her marriage and kids. I couldn’t give her a house and a picket fence—not when I wanted whips and chains. “She’s not the one. There is no the one.”

Jackson finally gave up. “If it’s really over, you need to move on.”

“I know.”

“The sooner, the better. You know I hate your guts, but I also hate seeing you like this.” He left the chair then rapped his knuckles against my desk, like that was some form of affection. Then he walked out and left me alone with my thoughts.

My thoughts about Rome.

* * *

I went to see my mom that Saturday.

Everything was exactly the same. The Harry Potter book was tucked under my arm, it was a sunny day, so she would be sitting on the balcony, and I wore the scarf she knitted for me—the one she wouldn’t remember giving me.

But this time, Rome wasn’t with me.

I didn’t feel nearly as much pain for my mother when Rome was there to share the burden. She made things much easier, even pleasant. I still didn’t know what possessed me to bring Rome in the first place. It was an impulse decision, an action without motivation.

As always, the nurse introduced me to my mother. “Calloway is here to see you. He’s from Humanitarians United, and he’s going to read to you.” She patted my mother on the back then gave us some privacy.

I sat down in the chair, feeling strange wearing a scarf. The pressure around my neck was unusual, but I wore it anyway because it was so special to me. She wouldn’t remember the hours it took to make it. She wouldn’t remember giving it to me. But that didn’t matter.

She stared at me in silence, her eyes taking in my features like she’d never seen me before.

As always, it was a stab to the heart. “I brought the first Harry Potter book. I’ve never read it, so I thought we could enjoy it together.”

Her eyes moved to my scarf. “That’s lovely…” She lifted her hand and pointed several of her fingers in my direction. “The colors look nice on you. The blue brings out your eyes.”

I held her gaze and nodded. “Thank you. Someone special made it for me.” I opened the book to the first page. Just when I began to read, she interrupted me.

“I feel like I know you from somewhere…”

My eyes remained glued to the book, but I felt my hands shake. She’d never said anything like that, not once in all these years. Her mind had slipped away a long time ago, and she’d never given us any hope for improvement.

I met her gaze once again, seeing the blue eyes that were identical to my own.

She continued to study me, looking at me like a painting on the wall of an art gallery. She took in my features, committing them to a memory that she wouldn’t maintain. If she remembered that I was her oldest son, it would be a miracle.

I shouldn’t get my hopes up.

“You were here before…with a woman.”

I released the book, and it slid down my knees and hit the floor. I didn’t bother picking it up because I was in shock. Every night when my mother went to sleep, all the events, conversations, and activities of that day were wiped clean. She woke up the following morning without a single recollection. The nurses had to explain that she lived in a nursing home now because it was the best place for her. “Yes…”

“Where is she?”

Rome wasn’t by my side because she wasn’t in my life anymore. But I didn’t think I had the strength to say that out loud. “She couldn’t make it today…”

“Oh…” My mom didn’t hide her disappointment. “Lovely girl. I enjoyed the sound of her voice.”

She remembered Rome more than she remembered me. It made me both happy and fiercely depressed.

“Something about her,” she whispered. “I enjoyed her company.”

“Do you enjoy mine?” I don’t know what possessed me to say that. It just came out, my frustration obvious. I lived a life of cold cruelty, having no emotions. I told myself I didn’t need anyone because I didn’t. But I came here every Saturday because I was missing something. I was a grown man who’d been taking care of himself for decades. But I would always have a spot in my heart for my mother, the woman who nurtured me into adulthood. The only good childhood memories I had came from her.

She watched me with pursed lips and a confused gaze. “Of course. Is this woman your wife?”

“No.” Even when my mom didn’t recognize me, she still pushed me to get married.

“Are you hoping to make her your wife?”

“No.”

Her lips fell into a frown. “That’s a shame. The woman is perfect.”

“You don’t know her.” My mom didn’t even know what she’d had for dinner last night.

“But I can tell. And I could have sworn she meant something to you. I remember the way you looked at her…”

I grabbed the book off the floor and placed it on the chair beside me. Why did Rome, a complete stranger, elicit so much emotion from my mother that she could actually remember her? But my mom didn’t recognize her own son? I had to admit, I was a little jealous. “She does mean a lot to me. But we want different things.”

“What kind of different things?”

“She wants marriage and kids. And I want to be alone forever.” It was a simple reasoning. I didn’t need to explain to my mother that I was a creature of the underworld, just like my father, the man she despised.

“Who wants to be alone forever?” She cocked her head as she stared me down, her authoritative tone emerging like it had never left. I remembered the way she straightened me out when she caught me feeling up a girl when I was thirteen. Even though I was a teenager, she whipped my ass with a belt. “I live in a nursing home with no friends or family. Being alone is overrated.”

“You aren’t alone,” I whispered. “I’m here.”

“Yes, but it’s not the same. Do you want to end up like this?”

The idea of losing my memory, of forgetting about all the people I cared about and who cared about me, was devastating. To live out the rest of my life without someone to remind me of the beautiful life I had once before seemed harsh. That was a whole new kind of alone, to be trapped in your own mind with no way out.

“Calloway.” She said my name the same way she had a million times in my childhood. “All handsome young men want to sow their seeds forever. I was young once. I understand. But there will only be one amazing woman to walk into your life. There’s never two—only one. So, you can give up your ways and choose a life of forever happiness. Or you can keep sowing your seeds, watch her end up with someone else, and at the end of your lonely life, you can find yourself like me—sitting on a balcony all alone.”

She was giving me a lecture—just like she used to. I couldn’t help but smile at the irony. I hadn’t had an experience like this with my mother in decades. It was refreshing to experience a normal familial relationship again.

“That’s my best advice, Calloway. I hope you take it seriously.”

I nodded. “I will, Theresa.”

She eyed the book beside me. “If you’re willing to read, I’m willing to listen.”

“Of course.” I opened the book again, watching her lean her head back and look across the lawn and the gardens at the edge of the property. The sun fell on her face, highlighting her elegant features. She still wore the red lipstick that sometimes smeared her front teeth. The gold earrings in her lobes were a pair her mother gave her for her sixteenth birthday. Her wedding ring was missing from her left hand, either lost or tossed. My eyes moved to the first sentence, and I began to read.