“Dude. She told you she loves you,” my brother said beside me.

I’d left Tessa in the stairwell and made my way to the men’s bathroom, which was where he had found me with my face buried into my hands like I was breathing into a paper bag. She’d opened herself to me so completely, and I’d turned my back on her. I wanted to give in to the rage that flowed through my veins, wanted to punch something and take my anger out on the world. Instead, I waited. I calmed myself. I tried to summon all the words my father had repeated to me when I was a child and found I couldn’t think of any.

I only came to the conclusion that, at some point, I had to grow up and stop pointing the finger at the person I wanted to blame for my own fuck ups. I had to accept my own mistakes. Maybe this was my moment to do that. But I felt like shit.

“Ro?” Samson said, tentative as he stood beside me.

I heard him but couldn’t find it in me to react. I just stood there, face in hands. I wanted the day to pass. Wanted the stupid fake ceremony to go on without me. My brother put a hand on my shoulder. I nearly flinched but forced myself to stand still.

“You need to calm down,” he said. “You’re shaking.”

“Why would she tell me those things?” I focused on breathing. In and out. In and out. “She knew I needed to do this, and she came down here and fucked with my head. Why would she do that?”

“Did she fuck with your head?”

I dropped my hands and looked at my brother. “Obviously.”

His eyes widened as he took in my appearance. I didn’t know what I looked like, but if it was an ounce of how I felt, I must have been a mess. “Maybe we should postpone this.”

“There’s no point. It needs to be done.”

“Maybe you should let me do it,” he said. “I’d let you run the company anyway.”

In theory, it was a great idea, but I didn’t want that for my little brother. Differences or no differences, Samson didn’t deserve that life. The only thing he’d ever asked for was to have room for his creativity. Doing this would stifle that, and I couldn’t bear it. I swallowed down the knot in my throat, the one throbbing and reminding me about the woman I just let walk away. The one I would from this day forward only be able to summon in dreams when I closed my eyes at night. I’d never feel her hand in mine or her heart beating against my own. I’d never see those beautiful almond eyes light up when she smiled, or feel her smooth skin beneath mine. I shook my head and looked at my brother.

“When I thought you two were dating, I was furious,” I said. “Because she’s mine, always has been, and I wanted her to myself. Maybe that’s a dick thing to say, but it’s true. More than anything, I was mad because I thought being with you would hinder her growth. She needs to get out of here. She deserves to do something for herself for once.”

He looked at me for a moment, seemingly stunned. “You love her.”

I scoffed, but it sounded weak in my ears. “Please. I don’t even know what love is.”

“I don’t either, but if I had to make a bet, I’d bet it was this—letting go of someone with the knowledge that you’d be miserable without them. You say you’re selfish, but you’re doing the selfless thing here.”

“It doesn’t feel like I am.” It felt like I was breaking apart at the seams.

He let out a breath, watched me closely, and finally, opened his arms and hugged me. I closed my eyes and hugged him back. Was losing a loved one what it took for two people who loved each other to find themselves back to each other? I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t remember the last time we’d hugged. I thought about Tessa and how alone she must have felt in that moment. I dropped my arms and swallowed the lump in my throat. My brother wiped his face quickly.

“You have to go find her,” I said. “I don’t want her driving right now.”

“I will.” He slapped my shoulder and walked away, turning toward me one last time. “It’s only four years, right? The contract.”

“Four long years.” Thanks to Camryn’s clause that she wouldn’t bear children, we were able to keep a limited contract. The goal was that by year three or four I would be able to buy out the board and change the company name and all of its information so that my uncle couldn’t come back and sue for it.

“You’ve suffered worse.” He shrugged, shot me a small smile, and left.

I stayed a moment longer, washed my face, my hands, gripped the sink and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I tried to summon those words my father said to me again, but the only thing I could think was what a liar he was, even as I opened my mouth to say it, what came out was different from what I had rehearsed countless times before.

“I bleed.”

I bleed.

I bleed.