to fill the Titanic. It’s not possible to ignore that.”
“I understand that, but I also won’t play second fiddle to a company. I’m a person, okay? A real-life human being and I’m sick of men treating me like an afterthought. Or a means to an end.”
“You’re putting me in the same category as him?” That stings.
“I am, because you’re chasing the same damn thing and neither of you wants it for the right reasons.”
Her words echo what my father said and my blood runs cold. “I am doing this for the right reasons. I’m trying to save this company. I’m trying to stop every effort my grandfather made from being turned to dust so that he’s forgotten like his life meant nothing.”
The words fly out of me, filled with a passion and anger that I didn’t ever want anyone else to see.
“He won’t be forgotten, Seb,” she says softly. “I know you’d never let that happen.”
But it’s what I’m afraid of. If Foster & Co. is gone, what’s left of the man who inspired me in my earliest years. Nothing. I’m terrified the images in my head will one day fade until I can’t remember who he was anymore. There’s some small childlike part of me that thinks by keeping his company alive, I’m somehow keeping part of the man himself alive.
Even though I know that’s impossible. He’s six feet under and I’ll never see him again.
“Won’t you miss inspiring young people to achieve their dreams?” she asks. “Isn’t that exactly what your grandfather did when he started his own company? He inspired you. He didn’t want to tie a stone around your neck.”
“How did we end up talking about me?” I shrug my jacket on and stand, watching as she gathers up the last of our lunch. I’m so frustrated I want to scream.
Why her? Why did it have to be Mike’s ex who snuck into my heart? She’s the worst possible woman for me and yet knowing I have to walk away is like taking a knife to my chest. The fact that she won’t even look at a solution...
Doesn’t that mean you have your answer? You can’t put this first, because you’ll lose everything.
“We have to talk about you, because you’re the one trying to have it all...and by doing that, you’re showing me exactly why I need to act differently this time. I won’t swallow my doubts and fears. I won’t ignore those red flags.” She hitches the picnic basket up onto her arm. “Maybe thinking we could have another day together was a mistake. We’re only prolonging the inevitable.”
“But we don’t have to end this.” I rake a hand through my hair, unsure why I feel so attached to her. To the idea of us. “But there’s no way I can pursue anything now. It’s not the right time. I have to get the company first.”
“I hope you don’t regret this, Sebastian. I really do.” Her gaze drops to the ground for a moment and she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. “You could build great things on your own.”
But I can’t build something new; I have to save what’s already there. And in doing that, I know I can’t save what I have with Presley. This is clearly an either/or situation, and I have to choose: my family legacy or a chance with her.
“Why can’t we wait and try again?” I so badly want to. I know in my gut that walking away is a mistake, losing her is a mistake. But I have my golden rule for a reason—it’s to help me preserve my priorities in a time when I’m tempted by something off-plan. “We need to give things time to settle.”
“I’m not making the same mistakes,” she says. “If I don’t learn something from this whole thing, then what’s the point?”
I don’t even know what she means. I’m blinded by the feeling that I’m walking away from something meaningful. Something important. But I can’t give up my whole future for her, can I? I can’t let my grandfather’s memory fade into nothingness for the sake of...what? Sexual attraction?
You know it’s more than that.
“Goodbye, Seb.”
As she walks away, I’m stuck to the spot. I have to let her go, even if it’s the very last thing I want to do.
Three weeks later...
You know how they say time heals all wounds? It’s complete bullshit. Walking away from Presley was like shooting myself in the chest. And now that wound is festering.
Unfortunately, I can’t