Twisted Love (Modern Romance #3) - Piper Lawson Page 0,84

you remember when you went on that school trip and I refused to go because I couldn't line up a ride home? You broke your ankle running and blamed me after.

It felt awful being on the receiving end of it. But not bad as it feels to give it.

I've been blaming you. I've blamed you for being yourself, for how people perceive you, for making me feel as if I wasn't enough.

I hate the way you left. And I was going through some shit at the time, and I wished you were here.

But it's not your fault. I had this idea for how life was going to play out. The fact that we're different and grew more different as time went on isn't your fault.

I love you, and I always will.

I hope you have people you can love the same way.

I take the bracelet that’s been sitting on the corner of my desk all week and tuck it into an envelope before sliding it into a drawer with photos.

The bangle always felt like security before, like assurance. But without it, I feel lighter.

I’ve been afraid to love Ben the way I want to—honestly, fully—because I’ve been afraid he’ll leave.

But I won’t be afraid anymore. And no matter what he does, I won't think less of myself, I won't hide my feelings, and I won’t ever think I don’t deserve love.

I finish writing the letter and, for the first time, drop it in the mailbox.

29

"Hey, Ben. It's Armand calling from London." My former colleague's voice is smooth and cheerful when I reach across my bed to answer the phone Friday. "I know it's early your time, but I wanted to give you the heads up. We'd like to offer you that job we talked about when you were here last month."

"The job," I echo as I shift up in my bed and rub the sleep from my eyes, pushing away the half-empty pizza box keeping me company under the sheets.

"Yes. The compensation is incredible. But the best part is there are no limitations. As the head of tech, you go where you want, when you want. Basically no oversight."

Phone pressed to my ear, I shift out of bed and stretch.

I cross to the windows to open the curtains.

On my way, I step on something that makes me jerk my foot back with a hiss.

“You okay?” he asks, concerned.

I lift Jet and glare at him. “Fine. Keep talking.”

It would be easy to pick up and leave. Not answer to anyone.

I could leave this awful feeling behind too. The betrayal. The hurt.

But as Armand talks through the details, all I can think of is what it would feel like to have Daisy with me in London. To play tourist, take a double-decker bus, get a flat in a killer neighborhood. I’d wake up next to her, love her until she was awake, then she’d drag me to a nearby restaurant where she’d study people over breakfast until I was so fucking rapt I had to leave cash on the table and drag her home and show her how damn perfect she was.

“I think that’s it,” he says once he’s finished. “You don’t have to answer now. But soon.”

My phone vibrates with a calendar notification for my first meeting. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

After I finish my shower, I head down to Cara’s restaurant.

Yves is waiting by the door when I arrive, and we shake hands.

“This is decent of you,” he says.

“I felt it was the right thing to do.”

I knock on the back door and moments later, Cara steps out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Thank you for opening early to see us,” I tell her.

“Anything for you.” She smiles fondly at me.

“I appreciate you taking the time to talk with us about you and your son’s experiences with the mental health care system.” I look between them. “Yves, like I said when I called, I reviewed your expansion strategy and it would be stronger if you had deeper connections to mental health at the community level.”

Yves nods, obviously enthusiastic.

The three of us talk, Yves peppering Cara with questions and scribbling notes in a notebook. He also presses on issues he feels strongly about. I like his interest, and his willingness to take feedback without compromising the strength of his vision.

“Thank you. Both of you,” he says after we finish.

“Say hi to that lady of yours,” Cara says before I turn for the door. “You don’t smile for business the