But, once I got to know about Griffin and his struggles with his Mom, brother, and his father soon passing, I knew I had no choice. I wanted him and his family to be taken care of. I wanted him to be happy. I cared for him. I loved him.

So, Griffin finally met my father after he graduated. And three years later we were married. He never told me about the contract he signed just so he could keep his business up and running—so it all wouldn’t be snatched away. During a heated argument with Beth, she spilled it all when she wasn’t supposed to.

The rules mainly stated that 1) 40% of what Griffin makes goes to my father, Steven Jenkins. And 2) That Griffin Boyd is to take care of me, Colette Jenkins-Boyd, until one of us passes. No divorce is allowed. I knew Dad did that because he was tired of spending his hard-earned money on me, and also because he was getting older, which meant soon he would be retiring and keeping all of his money to himself and Mom.

Griffin and I argued about it all night, but in the end, I knew this was best. Because, back then, I would have much rather had Griffin taking care of me and providing for me than my father who could have just abandoned and left me out in the world to suffer and take care of myself.

I knew this was okay. Griffin always took care of me, promised he would never let me down.

We were good for a while… until we were four years into our marriage.

When our son Bradley was still here… but then, two years later, I lost him.

And, since then, my life has never been the same.

Neither has my heart.

Nor my withering soul.

NINETEEN

Griffin

I’m currently in the café a block away from the hotel.

I drove to get Angelina and I some coffee. I got a call this morning about a new company that wants my help. I gave Angelina the details and she was willing to work with me on it, but only after she had a caramel blended latte.

That woman… I swear. She drives my soul and heart crazy in the greatest way possible.

After paying the cashier and snatching up my piping hot cups of coffee, I walk out of the café and jump in my car, the drive back taking less than five minutes.

I walk right into the hotel room where Angelina is standing in front of the window, watching the ocean. Her damp hair is gathered on one side of her face, and she’s wearing a new robe. A silky black one that makes her appear slim and curvy in all the right places.

She hears the door creak open and glances over her shoulder, a hardly-there smile spreading across her pink lips. Her eyes drop, and she returns her attention to the ocean again. I walk ahead, handing her the cup of coffee and when she thanks me, I sigh.

Silence fills the air, and I notice her phone is in her free hand. She checks it three times. She’s been like this all morning, really. Kind of quiet. A little more reserved.

I don’t know what it is. Maybe she’s just not a morning person. I can’t help but wonder what’s up, so I finally speak on it. “Something wrong?”

Her head whips up, those clear blue irises sparkling from the rising sun. “No—no. I’m fine.”

“You sure? Kinda quiet today.” I gesture at her phone with a nod of my head. “And you keep checking your phone like you’re waiting on someone to call.”

She studies her iPhone. “Oh… no. I’m just waiting for Scott to call back. He said he had some things to discuss and needed my opinion on it.”

I look out the window, nodding while sipping my coffee. After lowering my cup, I murmur, “If you have other things to do, Angelina, you should do them. Don’t let me hold you up.”

“Are you kidding?” She rolls her eyes playfully. “Scott is perfectly capable of doing his job. He’s just harassing me, as always.”

I chuckle.

“But… there is something I wanted to discuss with you… about the future. Our future.” She bites her lower lip and when I see the tension melt off her shoulders, I sigh.

“So, that’s what’s really bothering you? You have something to discuss with me?”

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to go about it…”

I cock a brow. “About what?”

“Well…” she blows a breath. “Okay…” Stepping back, she sits her coffee cup on top of the nearest table and, holding her hands in the air, she says, “God, I’m so good at negotiating with businessmen, but when it comes to you it seems soooo difficult.”

“Why?” I murmur, stepping closer to her. “Because I make you feel things you shouldn’t?”

She laughs. “No, because I respect you even more now, and I don’t want this to come off in the wrong way.” She looks around the room, and then gestures towards the table. “Let’s sit and talk. I think that would be better.”

“Alright.” I follow her, sitting at the chair at the end of the table. She picks up her workbag and takes out a file folder, opening it and fingering through a few papers. “So, you and I both know we work really, really well together. Maybe too well,” she laughs nervously.

“Yeah,” I say inconspicuously, placing my cup down.

“And,” she breathes, pulling out a packet of stapled papers, “I know you aren’t a fan of working with others, but I think we could make a great team, Griffin.”

I blink. She’s beating around the bush, avoiding my eyes. “Spit it out, Angelina. What are you getting at?”

She exhales, walking around the square table and dropping the stack of papers in front of me. “Me and Scott want to drop Neil and become permanent associates with you.”

I stare down at the papers, swallowing thickly. “Permanent associates? Like partner with me?”

“Yes... in a way. We let Neil go, but nothing changes. Everything will still be your call. No impatient bastards to calculate your every move.” She forces a smile.

My face remains stiff. “Angelina, you know I don’t partner. I’ve been doing this successfully, on my own, for years. Why would I suddenly want to partner now?”

“I know,” she whispers, sinking onto my lap. Her hands wrap around my neck, her chest gluing to my side. I open my arm, allowing her to get a little more comfortable, though I am still tentative. “I know you’ve been doing this for years, Griffin, but you can’t deny the fact that we work so well together. It can be simple, really. We will still make our share of money and you will make yours. That percentage we agreed upon when we hired you will still stand. Nothing will change. It’s just that… we would feel much more comfortable knowing that if we fail at something, you will be there to back us up.”

“We?” I question.

“Well, me…” She drops her head, her hair curtaining the right side of her face. The porcelain skin on her cheekbone gives me the urge to run my fingers across it, but I hold off because this is serious. She’s not joking. “Scott doesn’t like this idea—says he hates the thought of you getting most of the money—but he only feels that way because he knows you will deserve the money. Griffin,” she breathes, placing her palm on my chest. “We are honestly nothing without you, but together, you and I are pretty much unstoppable.” I can’t disagree with her there.

“We’ve been holding our own for years, yes, but that’s not without giving more than we can afford. We invest more than we really should just to keep our business functioning. We can pay our bills, take care of ourselves, but that’s about it, really. There is no true luxury in this for me.” Her head shakes and she looks away, eyes glistening. Fuck me. The puppy dog eyes. “I just want you to consider it. I want you to think about it—it doesn’t have to happen right away. You can totally take your time.”