Chapter 86

Chapter 86
Kristal had been a no-show during those terrible days, but he still remembered the flowers and pastry the family had sent every morning, her mother checking in on him, and her grandmother calling him three times a day to make sure he ate, showered, and breathed.

Bella turned around, reaching for the door handle. Zander kept his face blasé. “Good luck explaining it to everyone, sir. Because let me tell you something—the moment Elvie walked into the room and into your life again, she changed you. It wasn’t profound. It was even more gradual, but it was there. In the way you started smiling, the way you softened towards your employees—just a little—and started doing the right thing by yourself and Kristal. But standing here?” She shook her head. “I think that man just bailed on us, and it saddens me because I was looking forward to working with and befriending the new Zander.”

Fuck!

Bella closed the door behind her, and he looked to the glass wall, catching Elvie unpacking her lunch and dumping her bag by her chair. She looked up to meet his gaze, like he knew she would. They could sense each other from miles away. He arched a come-get-it eyebrow. Her face remained unaffected, like she didn’t actually see him, and she began to roll her earbuds around her iPod, turning her computer on.

Stay calm, Zander!

Stay put.

Think it through. This is what you wanted.

Fuck it. I didn’t need to think.

He pushed off his desk, blazing into the newsroom. Everybody was nose deep in work, because evidently they were on the verge of an environmental disaster, and nobody had time to be impressed that he had, in fact, gotten his head out of his ass.

Zander knew now that for the last three days, he’d tried to deny his feelings towards Elvie and make them go away.

He went directly to her table and slapped a hand over Kipling, which was open by her keyboard.

She looked up. Her face was blank, empty, and void!

Shit!

“Yes boss?” There was nothing in that voice. Nothing in her face. No fire crackling in the air between them. It was like she’d been turned off.

"I need you for a minute.”

“I’m right here.”

“Downstairs.”

“Not happening,” she said calmly, with everyone looking now, because that was the essence of Elvie Stanton—a goddamn badass in colourful shoes and a weird, too-grownup suit. “If you need something from me professionally, please say so right now, because I’m about to head into the conference room for an urgent call with NOAA’s public affairs officer.”

The only reason he didn’t clench his jaw was because he knew that shit would snap and break from the force. If she’d been any other employee, he would’ve thrown her ass out of the building with the phone cord and receiver still clutched in her fist. But not Elvie. Not after everything they’d been through.

The truth of the matter was that Zander couldn’t verbally rip her limb from limb, even when she belittled him in public, because he didn’t want to.

Because he cared about her.

I was in love with her.

Jesus fucking Christ. I was, wasn’t I? First she got into my bed, then under my skin, then into my heart. There was no deeper tissue than that, so she stayed there, taking more and more space until there was no room left inside me. If she cut me open, I would bleed her.

Holy crap!

Elvie reared her head back, like he was going to bite her face off. “Will that be all, Mr. Stanton?”

“Yes. Get on that NOAA call and report back.” Zander took a step away, his head still spinning from the eternal revelation.

I loved Elvie.

I’d pushed Elvie away.

I could have told her what had been happening at any point during those three days, but I didn’t.

I didn’t want her to know.

I’d wanted her to assume the worst and to give up on me, like everyone else had.

“Sure thing, boss.”

“Stop calling me boss,” Zander snapped.

“Okay,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him.



Zander went back to his office and closed the door. He sighed and closed his eyes.

In love. Fuck me.

With Elvie!

Who’d sneaked into every fibre of my skin, one layer at a time, with her music, contagious laugh, daily moods, and colourful shoes?

I was in love, despite not wanting or agreeing to be.

So I’d pushed her away. If I disappeared, I wouldn’t have to make a decision. It would be made for me.

A decision to take a chance on someone.

A decision to live again.

A decision to give up SBC and everything I’d worked for because power wasn’t enough. Especially if you have no one to share it with.

That’s how he found himself doing the whole flowers-and-chocolate routine when he came to the mansion that evening. Did people do that anymore? Every romantic idea he had—and granted, he didn’t have many—was taken from stupid rom-coms his mother made him watch when he was a teen. Kristal had never bothered. She knew sitting me down in front of a Kate Hudson movie was a task akin to getting him to fuck a food grinder.

Maybe chocolate and flowers were a ‘90s thing. Elvie was young. Perhaps to a point, it made people feel uncomfortable. Ask me if I gave a fuck.

Zander, do you give a fuck?

Not even a half. Not even a quarter. Minus three fucks, and still counting.

He rang the doorbell several times, pacing back and forth. This was his mansion, but he was too nervous to even call the butler.

Damn it!

The door remained unanswered, much like his text messages. He’d tried to keep them curt and sane, but those were two traits he’d parted ways with for the past few hours while dealing with an oil spill, a dying network, and a broken heart. He decided to shoot her one last message before he left.

Zander: We need to talk.

Zander: In a nutshell, I did not put my dick inside my ex-wife!

Zander: And she is still very much in love with Patrick!

Zander: Her grandmother died. We were close. I didn’t want to lay out all the shit in a text message. Which is fucking ironic because PICK UP THE DAMN PHONE.

Zander: Also, if you did catch the party, that was her cousin. The family was obligated to go. I left early.

Zander: And alone.

Zander: Why am I explaining myself to your message box? Let’s make it awkward for both of us. I’m coming over.

Zander: Open the door.

Zander: I’ll kick it down.

Zander heard the click of the door opening a second after the last text. He looked up. Elvie had on a Supergirl red hoodie and short shorts. She stared at him through a crack narrower than a bird’s anus.

“Here,” he said, thrusting the flowers—they looked about as wilted as him—and the red chocolate box with the pink cellophane in her direction. “For your stubborn ass, which I would very much like to eat again in the near future.”

“Is this a joke?” She blinked slowly.

Zander looked around her. Was it? Because it felt serious on an existential level to him. “About the ass or the apology? Never mind. No, in both cases.”

“Well, I don’t accept your apology, and I will not grace the ass comment with a response. Anything else?” she asked, but she was already pushing the door closed.

He spotted her brother shuffling behind her. He shook his head when he saw me through the slit in the door.

“Zander,” he scolded. “You’re lucky; I’m too sick to kick your ass. Wait. I’d never be too sick to kick your ass.”

“Joey, I’m trying to explain.”

He walked off to the couch, not sparing him another look. Zander went back to staring at his wife. Ex-wife, wife, whatever she was. Fuck.

“There’s a perfectly good explanation for everything that’s happened in the last three days.” Zander tried a different tactic. “Wait, where is Thea? I missed her. Can I see her?”

“NO! She is sleeping!”

He sighed and thought, For the record, my BA was in pre-law and my masters was in international relations. I was supposed to be good with words. In fact, I knew I was. That did not stop me from shitting all over this encounter.

“Yet there is zero way to explain why you went MIA and brushed me off when the entire world knew you were with your ex-wife,” she countered. “You know, Zander, Almera was wrong about a lot of things. One thing she was right about, though—royalty and plebeians don’t mix. It’s probably very nice to be sitting there on the throne, like you do.”

Did it look like he was having a good fucking time? What gave it away—the fact that he felt like hell or smelled like it? His teeth ground together.

Elvie breathed in heavily. “We can't continue this nonsense! I'll be better off if I sign the divorce paper for real. We can't go on playing and acting like we were meant for each other, because I know we aren't. Now. Go back to your ex-wife. Send me the divorce papers so I can go on with my life. And you go fuck her!” She swung the door open all the way, parking a hand on her hip. “Actually, I do have more things to say, so listen carefully. When Almera said the heart was a lonely hunter, I thought she meant I was incapable of falling in love.” She trailed off. “But then I found out that’s not what Almera meant. My brother told me she was actually referring to a book. See, I’d never told him what Almera said; I didn’t want to tarnish how perfect she was in his eyes. Almera was Joey’s ex, you know. But anyway, because I love my brother, and when you love someone, you want to protect them, no matter the cost. And I can’t afford to be with you, Zander, because I love you. But in order to learn how to love, you first need to learn how to live, and hating your parents, running around with your ex-fiancée, and playing power games is just not the way. I deserve more.”

Zander would tell her he loved her right now if he thought she would believe him. But why would she? He’d acted like an ass for months. Fuck, he wouldn’t believe him, either.

“Give me a chance.”

She shook her head. “No can do.”

“Elvie…”

“Don’t do this," her eyes pleaded. Zander said nothing to that. “You will only prove what I just said—that it’s all about you. If you care about me at all, let me go. We can still have joint custody over Thea; just don't take her away from me. That's all I ask.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

She thought he'd take Thea from her.

Hoping like hell it wasn’t some test he was failing, he ran a hand through his hair, then slammed the chocolate and flowers against the corridor’s wall. Pitted glossy cherries and chocolate smeared down the side of her door.

And they say the French are romantic.

“Okay,” Zander said. “Okay.”

He found the habit of repeating himself unappealing. But that was because he was never out of sorts and clueless. He was now, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“Should we revisit this subject next week? Next month? Next year?” Was he even going to survive that kind of time?

“No, Zander. I don’t think we should. Send me the divorce paper, and I'll sign it.”

The door closed in his face. Gently, but firmly, like everything else she did.

He hung his head and shook it, staring at the floor.

And he fucking let her go. Because she did deserve more.