Page 16 of Serena
She nods. “Of course. Please let me know if you need anything.” She walks out, but not before giving me one final look. I drink the water and take my time putting myself together; they can wait.You can do this, Serena. I look in the mirror, compose myself, and walk out the door.
Back in the conference room, I take my seat across from the team. “My apologies. Shall we get started?” Maybe I should just cancel the meeting or have someone take over. No, I can do this. God, I just want to punch him. Maybe stab him with my pen? I wonder if Elias can be my attorney. I’m not even paying attention. Maybe I could get Jacob to sit in this meeting, but that would give him the impression that I don't know what I’m doing. He doesn’t need that ammo.
Byran isn’t presenting, but I see him glancing in my direction. I keep my eyes focused on the screen in front of me because if I don’t, I’ll most likely lose all the self-control that I’m holding on to. As soon as the presentation is over, they get up to leave.
“Ms. Nerva, can I have a word with you?” Byran asks.
Everyone is looking at me, and although I want to say no, this isn’t about me. It’s about the company.
“Of course, we can talk in my office, if you would like to follow me.” My breathing comes out uneven.
I walk past Selma on my way, briefly glancing in her direction, and I smile to assure her I’m okay. It’s an obvious lie. With Claudia busy, I walk toward my desk and manage to make it onto the chair. He sits on the chair opposite me, making me feel uneasy. Neither of us speaks, but I can’t handle the silence any longer.
“How can I help you, Mr. Carson?" I ask with a bitter taste in my mouth.
“Byran, call me Byran.” He pauses. “Given our history, there’s no need for formalities, Serena.”
“This is a business meeting.” I’m trying to rein in my anger.
“No, the conference room was a business meeting. This is different. I asked to speak with you so we can talk about us.”
“There is no us, Mr. Carson.”
“This is a big account for Phoenix Marketing, and I don’t want our past to interfere with our working relationship.”
“I see,” is all I can say. I used to think of all the things I’d say to him if we’d ever cross paths, but now that I have him in front of me, I can’t find the words.
“Serena Nerva?” He lifts his eyebrows. “Are you married? I didn’t see a ring at the gala, and I don’t see one now.”
“Byran, that is not your concern. What did you need to talk to me about?”
“Serena, I want to apologize for everything that happened all those years ago. I was young and stupid and, well, that isn't an excuse for how…you know…I left. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I know that I hurt you. You were my friend. Hell, you were one of my best friends. I will never forgive myself for how things ended. I thought about reaching out, but I was such a coward.”
I start fidgeting with my fingers under my desk. He’s still looking at me. “I moved back home last year and got this job. I even got the courage to go to your house.”
Shocked. “You what?” I stand up, pushing the chair with the back of my legs, but he keeps speaking. He sighs and continues.
“Yes, when your mom opened the door, she recognized who I was. I figured she’d know about our history, but she was so inviting, it dawned on me that she didn’t. Otherwise, she would have…I don’t know…told me to get the hell off her porch. Anyway, she told me that you’d moved and had a great career in a big finance company. She was happy to give me your number so we could get back in touch. Seeing how we were old friends. As I was leaving, I asked her not to tell you about my visit. She hesitated at first but agreed. Don’t be upset—she thought she was reconnecting two old friends.” He doesn’t stop. “When the company I work for was given the contract, and I was told I’d be relocating for a couple of months, I attempted to muster up the courage to call you but chickened out. I didn’t expect to see you at the gala, but when I laid eyes on you from across the room, I couldn’t believe it. It’s like fate brought us together. At first, I thought I was seeing things, then I saw Yuri next to you, and the rest, well, you were there.”
“What do you want, Byran?”
“I want us to be able to work together. I know you hate me.”
My laugh comes out manic, surprising myself. “This isn’t about us; it’s about you trying to feel better for leaving me after you fucked me for a whole summer. Without so much as a goodbye or a reason. I have no choice but to work with you because this is about Kayde Investments. So, moving forward, you will not be interacting with me directly. If you need something from me, have your project lead reach out to my assistant. And you’re right, I do hate you, but I hate myself evenmore. You can leave now.” He has the audacity to look hurt, and with that, he stands and leaves my office.
I don’t know how I made it home. I didn’t want to call my mother while driving—I probably would have lost it and driven off the road or something. Standing in my kitchen, holding a glass of wine in one hand and my phone in the other, I hit the dial button. “Hello.” I need answers.
“Serena, you finally decided to call your own mother.” I roll my eyes because, as much as this woman tries to feign love and empathy, I see right through it.
My mother, Carla, is a woman driven by her career and money. She would prefer that I marry someone rich who lives in a big house, drives the most expensive cars, and never has to worry about money—to be dependent on another person, like she is with my father. She's the reason I crave independence, even when I’m crippled by my fears. My father, Anthony, still works as an accountant. They are still together, but their marriage is more of a business. When I was younger, they both worked so much. Maybe to fulfill the dream of having it all or just to avoid their marriage. Either way, they were too busy to acknowledge me— that’s why I'd spend my time with my grandmother, at school activities, or with my friends. I gravitated toward Yuri’s family, who isn’t perfect by any means, but I felt more welcomed in their home than ours.
“I’ve been busy with work. You know the life of a VP.” I can practically hear her grin, and it really bothers me. Again, she’s just another person to whom I fall under the not-good-enough category.
“Why didn’t you tell me Byran came to your house? Why did you give him my phone number? I told you, if anyone ever came asking about me, you should dismiss them and call me immediately.”
“Well, he asked me not to. And I do remember him being your friend. Didn’t you date? I didn’t see the harm.” I bite my tongue because I don’t have the mental capacity for an argument.
“Have you given my information to anyone else? It’s important that I know.”
