Page 26 of In Another Time

He raised an eyebrow. “Sound a little too casual for a man about to get married.”

I chuckled. “Nah, I’m just focused. You know me—always thinking ten steps ahead.”

Pops nodded, but his eyes didn’t leave mine. “You sure this is what you want, Son?”

“What the hell kinda question is that?” I asked, sitting up straighter.

“The kind a father asks when his son seems like he’s going through the motions,” he said simply.

I sighed, running a hand over my face. “Pops, Anya’s great. She’s everything I could ask for.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he said, his tone gentle but firm.

I stared at the TV, the players moving across the screen in a blur. The truth was, I didn’t know how to answer his question. Anyawasgreat—on paper, she was perfect. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the memory of Lennox. “Anya makes me happy,” I said finally, though the words felt hollow.

Pops studied me for a long moment before nodding. “Alright, then. If she makes you happy, that’s all that matters. Just make sure you’re not settling for less than you deserve—or givingherless than she deserves.”

I nodded, but his words stayed with me long after the game ended. As I drove home that night, the city lights casting a soft glow on the pavement, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The words Pops had said earlier replayed in my head:“Just make sure you’re not settling for less than you deserve—or giving her less than she deserves.”I had everything I’d ever wanted, but why did it feel like something was still missing?

I pulled into my driveway, cutting the engine. For a moment, I just sat there in the silence, staring at the darkened windows of my house. My phone buzzed with a notification from one of my businesses, but I ignored it. Instead, I found myself opening Instagram, my thumb hesitating for just a second before I typed in her name.

Lennox Anderson.

Her profile picture was predictable: a shot of her standing in front of Chicago’s skyline, her smile dazzling and her posture radiating confidence. I thumbed over the picture, my chest tightening as her image stared back at me.

She hadn’t posted much recently, just a few photos from work events and one of a view from a rooftop patio. Nothing too personal, nothing that hinted at what was really going on in her life. But it didn’t matter. Seeing her again, even through a screen, brought back everything I’d been trying to bury for the past year. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

For a moment, I wondered, what if? What if I had fought harder for her? What if I hadn’t let her walk away?

But then I remembered why I’d chosen to forget about her in the first place. Lennox didn’t want what I wanted. She was focused on her career, her independence, her freedom. And I wasn’t about to beg someone to stay who had already made it clear they weren’t interested in forever.

I locked my phone and tossed it onto the passenger seat, running a hand over my face.Get it together, O.

I had a fiancée who loved me, a life I’d built with my own two hands, and a future that didn’t include chasing what didn’t want to be caught. Whatever I felt for Lennox was in the past, and that was where it needed to stay.

With a deep breath, I got out of the car and headed inside. But as I lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, her face stayed with me. The what-ifs lingered, no matter how hard I tried to push them away.

LENNOX

The vibration of my phone on the conference room table pulled my attention away from the presentation on screen. I glanced down at the caller ID and saw Sherelle’s name.Perfect timing, I thought bitterly, already fuming from the wedding post I’d stumbled upon earlier. I excused myself with a polite smile and a nod, stepping out of the glass-walled room into the hallway.

Sliding my thumb across the screen, I answered with a sharp tone. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Sherelle.”

“Good afternoon to you too,” she said, her tone light and defensive.

“Don’t ‘good afternoon’ me. Why the hell didn’t you tell me Omir was seeing someone? Let alone getting married!” My voicewas low but cutting, mindful of my surroundings but unable to hide the anger boiling just beneath the surface.

Sherelle sighed, clearly annoyed. “Lenny, it wasn’t my business to tell you. And let’s be honest. You made it clear you didn’t want anything serious with him.”

“That’s not the point!” I snapped. “You knew this whole time, and you didn’t think I’d want to know?”

“What exactly would you have done with that information?” she challenged. “You said it was just sex. You moved to Chicago. You’ve been living your life, girl. What does it matter now?”

“It matters because—” I stopped myself, swallowing the lump in my throat. I didn’t even know what I was trying to say.

“Because, what? You’re jealous?” Sherelle pressed, her voice sharper now.

I laughed bitterly. “Jealous? Please. It’s not jealousy, Relle. It’s just. . . I don’t know.”

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