pretty much shriveled up and died as soon as I’d left her. I might as well not have gone back to the office for the good it did me to be there.
I’d never had a more unproductive day at work, and I only had Jaxon to blame for it. I knew he’d worked there for longer than I had since I’d taken the time to take a very detailed look at his file, but I couldn’t help feeling like he’d invaded the sanctity of my workplace. A place that had always been somewhere I’d felt like I was at the top of the world.
In that office, I reigned supreme. There were very few people above me in the department itself, and outside of it, even the highest-ups often deferred to me for decisions relating to our workforce. I was the expert, and they knew it.
I used to take pride in that fact. I used to feel like I was invincible while I was there. Not in the silly, thought-I-could-get-away-with-anything kind of way. It was just that I was comfortable in my knowledge and in my job, and I didn’t feel the need to justify or explain that to anyone.
Seeing Jaxon had ripped my confidence to shreds. Maybe not seeing him but not knowing what to do with his case. I’d never been as uncertain, and yet this was my domain. My forte.
My brain said one thing, my injured heart another, and sometimes, the two would even switch. I hated the way I was feeling about it. I hated that I felt so much about it even more.
Lying on my couch with my knees hooked over the armrest, French music blasting over my speakers, and running my fingers through my hair, I wished I could teleport back to a time when I wasn’t the sad sack feeling sorry for herself over something as temporary as a vacation hookup.
Between my thoughts and the music, I almost missed the banging at my front door. Frowning as I sat up and hit pause on my remote, I nearly jerked when I realized there really was someone desperately trying to get my attention outside.
My heart jumped in my throat. Jaxon?
While I was telling myself that I really hoped it wasn’t him, I also knew how much I wanted it to be him. I wanted him on his knees groveling for my forgiveness, even if it was only to shut the door in his pretty face.
Yeah. That would amazing. Smiling until I realized I’d never be able to look into those eyes and slam the door on them, I scowled as I flung it open.
Shock radiated through me at who was waiting on the other side, his fist poised to keep banging and his blue eyes flashing with relief when he noticed I’d opened up. “I was starting to think I was going to have to break your door down. Why are you listening to French classics? You only listen to French classics when something’s wrong.”
My brother grinned and opened his arms, enveloping me in the biggest, most comforting hug I could’ve gotten after the last few weeks. He rubbed my back when I started shaking in his arms, overcome with joy that he was okay and happy and here.
“What are you doing here?” I asked when I could finally form words again. “How did you even know where I lived?”
“I got your letters,” he said when he released me, the corners of his mouth turning down. “I kept all of them. I’ve reread them about a thousand times. I’ve had your address memorized since you sent it to me after you moved.”
Tears pricked at my eyes and I didn’t bother trying to hold them back, letting them flow over my cheeks as I put my hands on Ethan’s shoulders. “I just can’t believe you’re here.”
I looked him over head to toe three times, checking to make sure that he was real, uninjured, and in one piece before tugging him back into my arms. While I hadn’t heard it for years, his chuckle was still as familiar to me as my own when it rumbled in his chest.
“I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” he whispered into my hair. “I just wasn’t ready to see you before, but I’m on leave, and I really wanted to come see you.”
Questions slammed into my mind one after the other, each as burning and urgent as the one before. Asking him about it while he was still standing