I've been so terrified by it that I've let everything in my life fall by the wayside except Sandra, who doesn't, in the end, care a single iota about what happens to me.
Jesus, I was so stupid.
"Cate?"
Dex's tone is soft, and I realize I've been lost in thought.
"Yeah, Dex?"
"Could you take a video of all of us? Bee isn't going to want to have missed this. As soon as she's awake … "
My sister is still recovering from her surgery, sleeping deeply, the nurses say, and I know Dex is absolutely right.
I pull out my phone and hit record, knowing while I'm doing it that I'm capturing some of the most precious moments in a human's life.
I only wish Jax was by my side to see it with me.
Chapter 38
Jax
Cate is gone.
She flew away on the private plane that I offered to her without a fucking second thought, like I'm some kind of whipped idiot who's in over his head.
I am in over my head.
Was.
When she leaves, her back retreating out the door, I go into the kitchen. I tell Laurence to take the rest of the night off. I send Gloria an email letting her know that I won't be needing her in the morning, and I tell everyone else on staff except for Peter that I'll contact them in a couple of days.
I don't want to see anyone I don't have to see.
The first night she is gone, I mix a drink so strong it could be paint thinner. I sit on my couch alone, watching some shitty movie about car racing that I didn't like when it came out and I don't like any better now.
The next day, I try to work out with my trainer and act like everything is fine, but the guy seems like something's bothering him.
"Should we end the session, Carl? You seem distracted," I say, sounding far more like an asshole than I intend.
"Nope. I'm all good to go. Sorry about that. I have a friend on my mind today."
"Let's focus on the workout then."
"Fine by me."
Carl is the only one, aside from Peter, who comes and goes-and that's only because if I'm going to allow myself to wallow like this, I at least have to stay in some semblance of shape. And Carl is divorced from every other aspect of my life, so there's not much chance of awkwardness.
As the second day passes, and then the third, I retreat farther into my penthouse. I let Gloria return on the fourth day, but I leave when she's there, haunting the city in my Aston Martin like a pathetic ghost, a billionaire who still found a reason to feel sorry for himself.
Aside from giving my staff an inexplicable vacation and spending my evenings drinking in front of the TV, I put all of my effort into playing this whole thing so fucking cool that even I almost believe it.
But the truth stabs at me with every single heartbeat.
Cate is gone.
And I've given her no reason to come back.
It would be so easy for her to send a moving service to her apartment. They could pack up everything that's not here and send it home. At least, to wherever she decides home is. Once Cate's done being royally pissed off at me, she'll be able to get a job wherever she wants. Seattle. Chicago. Her options are endless.
Selfishly, the one place I want her to be is in New York City, preferably in my penthouse, her gorgeous body pressed up against mine.
I don't text her.
I don't call her.
The situation with her sister sounded pretty serious, and I'm sure the last thing she wants is to be interrupted by a desperate ex.
That's what I am now.
Her ex.
For some reason, I can't wrap my mind around the fact that it's over. That Cate is the one who ended it and walked out without a backward glance, without an apology text, without so much as a note saying that her plane touched down successfully.
I know it did. It's my plane, after all. But it would have been nice to hear it from her, to get another chance to talk to her …
Thinking about her consumes me, even when I'm pretending to be wholly absorbed in other work.
I sign contracts while I think about her. I review the numbers from Basiqué while I picture the sway of her ass in a tight skirt. I place orders with Laurence and my favorite carryout places while I picture her face, flushed with pleasure as she grinds her sweet, sweet slit up against my hand until she finds her release. I order coffee from the shop down the street-a last-ditch attempt to give myself something to do-while I remember the sensation of my hand coming down across the firm expanse of her ass and hearing her sharp intake of breath, pain and delight all wrapped up in the most beautiful package the world has ever seen.
And the one thing I can't escape: this is all my fault.
Cate had every right to be furious. I can't blame her for not wanting to listen to me. I would have been just as angry, and probably would have said worse things if the situation was reversed.
Hindsight is fucking twenty-twenty, as they say.
I could have handled it differently. I could have waited longer to approach her about it, could have sweetened the deal in advance instead of planning some stupid gesture that she probably wouldn't accept anyway, could have made it clearer to that bitch Sarzó what the next steps would be instead of leaving the details in her hands to the extent that I did.
Since I graduated from college, I've had nightmares where I arrive at my office only to find out that someone has taken everything: my name, my fortune, everything. I wake from those dreams soaked in sweat, shivering, heart pounding.
How is it that I managed to force the only woman I've ever loved to endure one of my nightmares?
Yet I did.
And even at the end, when her eyes were flashing with rage and she was spitting her fury at me, I should have fought harder.
I should have insisted on taking her to the airport. I should have gone with her into the elevator. I should have run out into the street after her car, waving my arms and making such a scene that the driver would have had no choice but to stop.
I should have fought it every step of the way.
Instead I just let her go, like the world's biggest jackass.
Every day, I see more clearly how dull and colorless my life is without her.
And there's nothing I can do about it.
Chapter 39
Cate
Days go by in the strange zone that's known as hospital time, where the meals are served according to a schedule but you can still lose track of what day of the week it is. I spend my time shuttling between the hospital and Bee's house, bringing things they didn't think to pack, getting food from their favorite places, and generally being … useful.
After my year with Sandra, it seems unthinkable to just sit down and do nothing.
So I do everything I can think of.
Aside from the first day, Bee is a post-op champion and so in love with her daughters that I cry when I see that, too. The nurses wheel her carefully down to the NICU and she and Dex take turns holding the babies up on their chests. My gorgeous sister cannot get enough of them, or her husband.
"Look!" she says to him over and over, her delight filling the room. "Look at what we did, Dex!"
"Don't give me any credit," he says, and laughs. "You did most of the work."
"I couldn't have done it without you."
"I wouldn't have done it with anyone but you."
"Uh, guys," I say, teasing. "There are other people in the room, and we're all about to be sick."
A nearby nurse gives me a look. "You just keep being in love, honey," she says to Bee. "It's the best thing for you."
The days go by, and despite all the medical drama surrounding birth, the twins don't have to stay in the hospital. They're discharged the same day as Bee, who has been under observation for longer than the usual period. I don't understand exactly what happened to her, and I'm positive I don't want to look it up online.
I'm the one who drives Dex and Bee's car home from the hospital so they can both sit in the back, oohing and aahing over the babies the entire time.
"You're the perfect Gabriella," says Bee to one of the twins. "Nobody could be a better Gabriella than you."
"Did you know? This is the perfect Isabel!" says Dex, and in the rearview mirror I see him steal a kiss from his wife.
My stomach clenches.
We pull into the driveway and I help them unload their bags, stowing everything carefully in its place, and bring them a tray of snacks that I got from the store while they were waiting to be discharged.
Bee snuggles up on one end of the couch, Dex on the other, both of them holding a perfect, tiny baby.
I'm the fifth wheel.
"Well," I say, putting my hands in my pockets. "Is there anything else you guys need?"
Bee gives me a huge, tired smile. "I think you've given us everything there is, Cate. I can't thank you enough."
"Okay," I say, fighting back the urge to cry. I want to stay with them, but I know it's only because there is a huge, painful wound in my life where Jax used to be. "Call if you need anything. I'm always available to babysit."
Bee leans her head back against the armrest and closes her eyes against the afternoon sunlight. "You're the best, Cate. When are you heading back to New York?"