Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Maybe part of me has accepted that I’m going to be alone for the rest of my days. On the other hand, perhaps part of me is okay with that.
Except….
“What?” Mom says eagerly.
I grin. “What? I didn’t say anything.”
“Don’t play games with me, silly boy.”
We both start laughing.
“You were thinking about something. I could see it in your eyes. What is it?”
I run a hand through my hair. Sebastian and I exchange a glance, the nurse smiling briefly. We both know that once Mom has got her teeth into something, nobody could make her let go.
“I’m waiting for the right person,” I tell her.
“You’ve been saying that for years.”
I sigh. “I know. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything. But it’s the truth. I can’t just rush into something for the sake of it. It wouldn’t be fair to her. It wouldn’t be fair to me.”
Mom reaches across the table. I struggle to believe the hand belongs to her, with her bones pressing through her paper-thin skin and her veins showing.
It makes me wish cancer was a person, a real human being, so that I could throw the bastard out the window.
I squeeze onto her hand as she meets my eye.
“This isn’t about what happened when you were a kid, is it?”
I grit my teeth. My jaw aches. My mind flashes with blood, and I hear somebody scream. There’s a smell of smoke, and then I forcibly remove myself from the memory.
“No,” I say. “I don’t think so, at least. Hell, Mom, it’s not like I spend all day every day thinking about why I do things.”
“I wish it didn’t have to happen. I wish I’d done something.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” I tell her sternly. “You know I hate it when you do that.”
She looks at me for a second longer, then turns to Sebastian. “I’m getting tired. Can we go?”
“Of course.” Sebastian strides across the room, offering his arm. “We’ll get some sushi if you like.”
Bizarrely, sushi is the only food Mom has been able to keep down lately.
But even at this, her lip curls. “I can’t stomach it.”
“Lucy….”
She rolls her eyes. “I’ll try.”
She meets my gaze significantly. “Because trying is all we can do.”
After she leaves, I find it difficult to focus on work. Instead, I pace my office, my hands behind my back, ending up at the window which overlooks the city. I remember when I first moved into this office. I was thirty-four at the time. I’m forty-two now, and yet it seems so long ago.
The excitement, the thrill, the pride….
It’s still there but in a lesser form. When it comes down to it, business is business, no matter how big or small. It’s all about putting in the hours and keeping things running smoothly.
It would make Mom’s life so much sweeter if I found a woman before….
I can’t finish the thought. Despite all the evidence, there’s still an ember of hope nestled deep inside of me, threatening to flare to life, to become an inferno that will consume me if I let it. My mom can’t die. The thought simply refuses to enter my mind.
Even so, she’d like it if I found somebody.
But the thought of dating makes my stomach churn. It’s impossible to know when a woman actually likes me or simply wants me for my money.
But that’s a secondary concern. The main problem is me.
No matter what I told Mom, I think she’s right. When I was a kid, what happened changed me somehow and made it difficult to feel deep loving emotions like everybody else.
I’m broken in some way, shattered. I clench my fists, feeling my forearms tense, the muscles getting taut.
I feel my body starting to shake.
Mom’s visit has stirred me up.
Is that what happened? Did my mind break when….
“Sir,” my assistant says over the intercom. “We’ve got Tokyo on the line.”
I’m glad for the interruption. It’s better than going around and around with all of this when I know there’s no solution.
No woman has even ignited it inside of me, whatever the hell it even is.
I’ll know it when I feel it. That’s what I’ve always thought.
But as the years wear on, I’m beginning to wonder if that’s a lie.
The truth could be far grimmer than I realize. I’m never going to feel it, or I’m not capable of feeling it.
What I told Mom was true. I don’t spend much time analyzing my feelings.
I’ve never even stopped to define what it is.
It’s not some Hollywood conception of romance. It’s not some skin-deep physical attraction.
It’s something else, I think, something different.
I drop into my desk chair, adjusting my collar as I set up my computer for the conference call. This is where I’m most at ease, making deals and keeping the business running flawlessly.
The rest of my life – women, children, happiness – I leave to other people.