Chapter 38
Maya's POV:
I stared at Adam for a long moment. His gray-green eyes held mine, desperate and raw in a way that made my chest ache.
I grabbed my hair with both hands, tugging in frustration.
"Just go, Adam." My voice came out rougher than I intended. "Whatever this is—whatever you think you want—it's not happening. Not with me. Not ever."
I shoved past him and yanked the door open. Stepped inside. Slammed it shut before he could follow.
The lock clicked.
I pressed my forehead against the cool wood, breathing hard.
Through the peephole, I watched him stand there. He didn't move for a long time. Just ran his hand through his hair. Looked at the door like he could will it to open. His jaw clenched. Then loosened. Then clenched again.
Finally, he turned and walked away.
I exhaled.
"Mommy?"
I spun around.
Amy stood in the hallway, her eyes wide.
I crouched down and opened my arms. "Hey, baby. You hungry?"
She walked over slowly. Nodded.
I pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her strawberry shampoo. "Let's make dinner, okay? What do you want to eat?"
"Mac and cheese?"
"You got it."
---
We sat cross-legged on the living room floor, plates balanced on our laps. The TV played some nature documentary—whales. Amy usually loved this stuff.
But she wasn't watching.
She picked at her food. Glanced at me. Looked away.
"Mommy?"
I set down my fork. "Yeah, sweetie?"
"You and Daddy..." She bit her lip. "You can't make up? Not ever?"
My chest tightened.
She'd heard us. Of course she had. We'd been yelling right outside the door.
I brushed a curl behind her ear. "Amy, this is hard to explain. Grown-up stuff is... complicated. But listen, okay? Whatever happens between your dad and me—that doesn't change how much we love you. We both do."
Her eyes got shiny.
"I'm going to talk to him," I said softly. "About you. I think... I think he's going to be so happy."
"Really?"
"Really." I pulled her onto my lap. "And Amy, lots of people are going to love you. Your dad, me, Auntie Chloe. I won't stop you from seeing him. You can call him whenever you want. You can visit him. Okay?"
She wrapped her arms around my neck. "I love you, Mommy. You're still my number one."
I held her tight, blinking back tears. "You're mine, too, baby. Always."
---
After I put Amy to bed, I sat on the couch in the dark.
I needed to talk to Adam. Actually talk. Without the yelling.
Every time we saw each other, it turned into a fight. We said things we didn't mean. Or maybe we meant them, but they came out all wrong.
I didn't want to be with him. That ship had sailed.
But Amy was his daughter. And she deserved her father.
I just had to figure out how to make that work.
---
Adam's POV:
When I got home, I found Claire Ashford standing outside my apartment door.
"Adam." She stepped forward. "Where were you? It's almost nine. Did you eat?"
I thought about this afternoon. Claire had called, asking me to dinner. Some new French place in Back Bay she wanted to try.
I'd agreed. Mostly to get her off my phone.
Then James had called. Ms. Bennett dropped off the documents at the front desk and left.
I'd ditched Claire halfway through drinks and drove straight to Maya's place.
"Go home, Claire." I moved past her to unlock my door. "I'll take you out some other time."
"Adam, are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine." She touched my arm. "I'm worried about you. Can I come in? Just for a little while?"
"You should go home and rest." I pushed the door open. Stepped inside. "Goodnight."
I shut the door before she could respond.
---
The next morning, I arrived at Garrison Industries at Nine.
Thomas Garrison's assistant led me to his office.
Thomas stood when I entered. "Mr. Sterling. Thank you for coming."
"Mr. Garrison."
We shook hands.
The door opened.
Maya walked in. Her eyes landed on me. Widened. Then her expression smoothed into something neutral and professional.
She turned to Thomas. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Garrison?"
"Yes, Ms. Bennett." Thomas gestured to me. "This is Mr. Sterling from Sterling Global. But I believe you two already know each other."
Her jaw tightened.
Thomas smiled. "This is Mr. Sterling's first visit to Garrison Industries. I'd like you to give him a tour. Show him around. And when you're finished, take him to lunch. Somewhere nice. Take your time—no need to rush back."
Maya's voice came out strained. "But Mr. Garrison—Julian's schedule this afternoon—"
"I'll handle Julian. You focus on Mr. Sterling."
She looked at me. Her brown eyes flashed with something between anger and resignation.
"Of course." She gestured to the door. "Mr. Sterling, please."
---
We walked through Garrison's headquarters in silence.
She kept her distance. Stayed two steps ahead. Pointed out conference rooms and executive offices in a flat, robotic tone.
"This is the East Wing. Finance and accounting. That hallway leads to—"
"I'm thirsty. I want coffee."
Her nostrils flared. But she nodded. "Fine. What do you want?"
"Surprise me."
---
She came back ten minutes later with a paper cup.
I took it. Looked at the label.
Americano. Two shots. No sugar.
I smiled.
"My favorite." I met her eyes. "You remembered."
Her face flushed. "It's just coffee, Adam."
"It's my coffee, Maya. Exactly how I like it. Which means you remember. Which means you still think about me."
"I don't—"
"You do." I took a sip. Still too hot, but I didn't care. "Admit it. You've got me up here." I tapped my temple.
"Jesus Christ." She crossed her arms. "Are you done?"
"Not even close."
"Adam, what do you want from me?"
"I want you to say yes."
"To what?"
"To us. To trying again."
She stared at me. "You're insane."
"Maybe." I shrugged. "But you'll say yes eventually."
"I won't."
"You will."
She laughed. Sharp. Bitter. "You think you're a walking hundred-dollar bill? That everyone's just going to love you?"
"If you say yes, my money is yours." I leaned against the wall. Relaxed. Calm. "Whatever you want, Maya. My cards. My accounts. Everything."
Her mouth opened. Closed.
"Five years ago, I was an idiot," I continued. "I wanted you to love me for me. To prove you weren't like everyone else chasing the Sterling name and the money."
"Adam—"
"But you know what? Why the hell does that matter? You want nice things. Security. A comfortable life. And I have all of that. So why was I fighting it?"
She stared at me.
"You want money? I'll give you money. You want a house? I'll buy you ten. You want to travel? I'll buy you a jet." I pushed off the wall. Stepped closer. "As long as you stay. As long as you're mine."