I Have Lived and I Have Loved - Willow Winters Page 0,367

first. Ahead of money, ahead of business. I wanted Max to stand up and claim me as my father never had.

I understood now my heart was closed to any happy futures. Shut down. Every man who came after this would always have limits.

I stood in Grace’s closet, surrounded by her designer wardrobe I’d been pilfering since I arrived a little over a week ago. She might not wear them often, but she sure had a lot of beautiful clothes. I couldn’t avoid going back to Manhattan any longer. I figured there was no running into Max if I went back on a Saturday. I needed to go back to my apartment.

“This is Gucci,” I yelled from her bedroom, pulling out a black pencil skirt.

“Jesus, your voice carries three blocks. I think I prefer you mute.”

I hadn’t had much to say for the first few days of my stay at Grace’s. It was as if the pain of walking away from my life had stolen my words. But after my third day in bed Grace had literally pulled me into the sitting room and forced me to watch TV and join in commentary on episode after episode of Real Housewives. Things got a little better after that and I was able to contain my gloom. But it was still there, lurking, waiting for me to be on my own so it could take over.

“Yeah, that skirt looks great with the YSL gray silk cami.”

“I can’t wear Gucci anything when I’m just packing up a few things and dragging a suitcase around on the subway.” I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay my rent, but something had stopped me giving notice on my apartment. I’d waited a long time to live in Manhattan and work at King & Associates—I just wasn’t ready to let it all go yet. Reluctantly, I put the skirt back in the closet.

Grace appeared at the door to her closet and rested against the door frame. “You love me, right?”

I snapped my head around at her. When Grace started a sentence with that preface, I knew the follow-up wasn’t something I wanted to hear.

I turned back to the racks of clothes. “I don’t know, it depends what you’re going to say next,” I replied.

“Well, I was thinking that while you’re in Manhattan, maybe you’d want to call your father.”

I turned to look at her, completely confused. “And why would I want to do that?”

“To get some answers. Hear what he has to say.”

“Why would I give him any of my time or energy?” Just because Grace seemed to be reconsidering her relationship with her parents and their money, didn’t mean I had to.

“Honestly?” she asked. “Because I think you spend far too much of your time and energy on him. Everything you do seems to be a reaction to your father.”

I looked up from the stack of T-shirts I was examining. “How can you say that? I haven’t taken anything from him since college.”

“You think ending up at King & Associates, working for the only place in town that didn’t work for your father, had nothing to do with him? You walked out of a job you supposedly loved because of him.”

“That wasn’t about him, it was about Max,” I replied. “You’ve got this all wrong.”

She pushed off the door frame and stood in front of me, placing her hands on my shoulders. “It was about a business decision Max made regarding JD Stanley—your father’s business. Despite your desire to avoid him, he’s everywhere in your life, pushing you down one path or another, whether it’s to avoid him or show him his mistakes.” She released her hands and splayed out her fingers. “Aren’t you exhausted with it?”

I was stunned. Was that what she thought? I sank to my knees, cross-legged. “You think I have some kind of warped obsession with my dad?”

Grace followed me to the floor. “Look, you’re not Kathy Bates Misery obsessed, but yes, I think you let him consume too much of your life, your energy . . .” Grace paused. “Your happiness.”

I looked up at her. I wanted to see doubt in her eyes but there was none. And I knew she did love me and I knew she wanted the best for me. “But he abandoned me and my mother. Fucked every woman in the tristate area. And all his sons work—”

“Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m saying get some kind of closure so you can let it go.