Page 60 of Caught in the Axe
The campus was gorgeous. Just for a moment, I let myself imagine living here, walking down the Charles River path to get to my classes in ancient brick buildings that proudly lined the streets and studying at a battered oak table in the massive library.
New York was my destiny. My dream. But Boston was gorgeous and intriguing.
I sat in the park, sipping a coffee and taking in the sights and the sounds of the city. This was what I’d been waiting so long for. A new place filled with infinite possibilities. Where I could carve my own path, far away from the person I used to be.
Once in a while, I spiraled, stressing about all the wasted years. It wasn’t just hindsight. It was muscle memory, imprints of the constant ache of disappointment.
Despite the perfect day and how alive I felt, I was hit with the regrets and what-ifs right there on the park bench. I closed my eyes and breathed through the tidal wave of shame that came.
I’ve evolved, I reminded myself.I freed myself from limiting beliefs.Falling into old patterns was too easy. Just another reason that my fresh start in New York was so necessary.
Most days, my natural positivity made it relatively easy to avoid these feelings. I’d muscle through with a smile and the belief that everything would be okay.
It was more than a belief. It was the truth and an eventuality. I’d grown through the tough years. I’d learned so much about myself and what I wanted. The lessons I learnedduring the hardest times, and the person I’d grown into because of them and in spite of them, were far more valuable than any degree, job, or money could ever be.
It had taken a long time to come to terms with the path I’d taken and to embrace the journey I was on. But now, just a few months away from graduate school, a real career, and making a real difference in the world? I was so ready.
Only a few years ago, I was destined to be someone else entirely. A pretty trophy on someone’s arm. A kept woman who spent her life bending over backward to please others. I shrank, took up less space to make room for the wants and needs of others, until I didn’t recognize myself. Now I took up the space I needed. The space I’d earned. I woke up every day and presented my true self to the world, brown hair, flat shoes, and all. It took a long time to get to where I was, and I had a way to go yet, but I was doing things my way. I’d earned that degree, and when I did, I’d do so much with it.
I had a bank account filled with shitty diner tips and tutoring money, and I was ready for the next step.
I smiled at a group of senior citizens power walking, then tilted my face to the sky and soaked in the warmth of the sun.
Good. Positive. This was who I was. A woman with grit and determination. There was nothing I couldn’t accomplish with a little elbow grease and a smile.
Right? I popped in my earbuds and cued up my “good vibes” playlist.
Life was great. The day was perfect. This moment was bliss.
And then my thoughts veered into dangerous territory.What if I came here instead?The University of Boston wasgorgeous and prestigious. I’d even applied for several scholarships. At least I thought I had. I’d applied for damn near every stipend, scholarship, and grant I could find, so it was hard to remember the details.
It was closer to home, and the cost of living in Boston was cheaper than in New York. And Owen was here.
I huffed out a breath and tipped my head back. I’d made it all the way back to square one again. I cursed my stupid, optimistic, romantic brain. It had gotten me into trouble so many times before.
God, I was such a silly girl, considering the idea of making plans around a guy I’d kissed once.
I knew better. I had plans and goals, and every day, I was striving to be the kind of woman who wouldn’t rearrange her life for a man.
Especially when said man may have zero interest in me following him back to his city and his life like a lovesick schoolgirl.
I wasnotlovesick. It was only a teeny-tiny crush. Nothing more. And who could blame me? He was better looking than any Hallmark hero my mom had drooled over in my lifetime, and he said the kindest, most insightful things to me.
And then there was the kiss.
Owen kissed like a man who understood that a kiss shouldn’t be rushed. It was not an appetizer, but a full, satisfying meal.
His lips, his hands, the feel of him pushing me against the wall. I clenched my thighs together, willing the warmth in my belly to dissipate and scolding myself. Here I was, sitting on a bench in public, having asexual flashback.
In my defense, it was hard not to fantasize about him, especially while I was sleeping in his home, surrounded by his things, engulfed in his scent. He’d been a perfect gentleman, and I had no doubt that would continue for the whole weekend. We were here for work, and tonight, we’d be working through the new offer from the buyers and prepping the new lawyers.
But I couldn’t help but wish he’d be a little less of a gentleman.
DiLuca Construction, housed in a massive building in Boston’s Seaport District, was a ten-minute walk from Owen’s very impressive but minimally furnished apartment.
We were set to meet with the new lawyers on Friday morning. When I arrived, I was directed to set up in a large conference room with windows that overlooked Boston Harbor. I should have been reviewing numbers and working through the Deimos issues as our meeting drew near, but instead, I couldn’t help but marvel at the facility.
It was huge, with people bustling about everywhere. Some were dressed formally, while others looked as though they’d just come from a job site. Every aspect of the office was state-of-the-art, and every person here knew Owen and seemed in awe of him.
