Chapter 53: Dr. Grant: Chapter 53

I walk into the house, feeling tired right down to my fucking soul. My heart feels empty, and all I’ve been able to think about is Amara. I keep trying to cling onto the anger, the pain.

The love I still feel for her overpowers it all. I’m like a fucking addict, craving something I know will destroy me. Her engagement party has been all over the local news. Apparently everyone who is anyone will be at the Astor mansion tonight. Everyone but me.

I pause in the hallway, my eyes trailing over the countless photos Aria and I hung on the walls. It’s all our favorite memories. Or they used to be. I used to stand here and remember the way I felt as a child. The photos used to transport me back into a time when I was happy and loved.

I didn’t even notice I’d stopped pausing in the hallway. While Amara lived here, I was always in too much of a rush to be with her… because she made me happy. She made me feel the way the memories did, but a thousand times better.

I lift my fingers to one of the frames, tracing over the edge of it. My mother is smiling back at me, and for a single moment I feel like she’s here with me. “Forgive me,” I whisper. “Forgive me, Mom. Please. I’m sorry, but I… I can’t do it. I keep telling myself that this is the right thing to do, but how could it be when I’m this unhappy? I have to believe that you’d want me to be happy. I have to, Mom. I have to believe that you’d love her, because I think you really would. I can’t. I can’t do this to myself, to her. I can’t let the words I spoke to her be the last thing I ever said to her. I need to see her. One more time. Even if it’s just to apologize. I can’t… I can’t let things end like this. I just can’t.” I brush my fingertips over the photo, wishing to be just a little closer to her. “I hope you can forgive me. I swear, Mom. She’s nothing like her father. I swear it.”

I take a step back, my eyes lingering on the photo. I don’t even know what I want, but I know I have to see Amara. I run a hand through my hair as I walk toward the staircase, pausing when I hear rustling. I frown and turn around, following the sound into the living room.

I don’t remember opening the window, but it’s wide open, the curtains flowing. It seems like the window flying open knocked over some of the trinkets Aria kept in the windowsill.

I bend down to pick up the metal box on the floor and pause, my eyes widening. I swallow hard as I sink down on the floor, kneeling in front of the ring that’s catching the light from multiple angles.

It’s my mother’s engagement ring. I had no idea Aria kept it here. I raise my head slowly, my heart racing as I look at the window and back at the ring on the floor. I could’ve sworn that I hadn’t opened that window in weeks.

I pick the ring up with trembling hands, and for a single moment, I’m certain I smell my mother’s perfume. Daisies. She always smelled like daisies. I bite down on my lip, swallowing hard. “Mom,” I whisper, unable to help myself. I don’t believe in ghosts or any of that stuff, and maybe this is all a coincidence. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. Maybe it’s my broken heart and my fucked-up mind that are making me see what I want to see, what isn’t there.

Or maybe it’s a sign.

I asked for one, after all. “I would have gone after her before I found your ring, Mom,” I whisper. “But I… I’m going to take this as your blessing. You’d have loved her, and she’d have loved you just as much. I fucked up, Mom… Amara never would’ve given up her company, she’d never give up her freedom. She traded hers for mine, and a woman like that? Mom… she’d never do that if she were anything like her father.”

I rise to my feet, feeling completely shaken. Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’m truly making this all up, but I don’t think I am. I haven’t smelled my mother’s perfume this strongly since I was a child, but the scent is filling the living room now, right along with the warmth she exuded.

I smile to myself as I close my fist around my mother’s ring. “I fucked up,” I whisper. “But I’m going to make this right.”

The smell of daisies follows me as I pull out the tuxedo Charlotte gave me, and even in the car, it’s right there with me. She’s right there with me.

I’m smiling as I park in front of the mansion, feeling at peace for the first time in weeks. For weeks, everything has felt wrong. But now? Tonight? Tonight feels different.

I inhale deeply as I walk up to the entrance, unsure of what I’ll even say when I see her. I don’t know if she even wants to see me, but I do know I can’t let her marry someone that isn’t me.

“Stop right there, sir.” I pause as two bodyguards approach me, both of them wearing matching earpieces. “Come with us.”

One of them grabs my arm, his grip tight as he forces me to follow along. I’m tempted to shake him off, but that won’t help me. I should’ve known this wouldn’t be easy, but they’re crazy if they think they can stop me.

I’m not surprised when they lead me straight to Harold’s home office. He’s leaning against his desk, a cigar between his lips. He takes a deep drag, his expression unreadable.

“What are you doing here, Noah?” His voice is calm, dangerous.

I yank my arm out of his bodyguard’s grip and straighten my tux, my jaws locked. “I’m here for Amara.”

He stares me down as he takes another drag of his cigar. “She moved on,” he says. “She’s marrying a man of her own stature.”

I smile at him, emboldened by confidence that might be entirely misplaced. I don’t give a fuck. I’ll make a fool of myself if I need to. I’ll do anything. I can live with embarrassment, but I can’t live without her.

“No. She won’t. She’s marrying me.”

Harold raises his brow. “You’re wearing a suit my daughter bought for you. If I hadn’t let you go, you’d still be out of a job. You’re drowning in student debt, and at your current salary you make a comfortable living, but you can’t maintain my granddaughter’s lifestyle. You’re not good enough for her, Noah.”

I nod. “I know. I might never be good enough for her, but I’ll never stop trying. I’ll never stop trying to make her happier than she was the day before. Can you look me in the eye and promise me that Gregory will do the same? Will he make her laugh, Harold? Will he support her dreams?”

He looks away. “You can’t live off happiness, Noah. She can’t.”

I laugh and run a hand through my hair. “I’m a doctor, Harold. Sure, it’s early in my career, but I make a decent living. I can take care of her just fine, and you know it.”

“She loves her father. She always will. What will you do if she wants him to walk her down the aisle? What if she wants him to be part of your lives? If you have children, she’ll want them to know their grandfather. What will you do? Are you going to make her feel guilty for loving her father for the rest of her life? Make her feel like she’s always choosing between the two of you?”

I walk over to the sideboard in his office and brazenly pour two glasses of what I suspect is incredibly expensive bourbon. I hand him a glass, and much to my surprise, he takes it.

I raise it to my lips as I mull over his questions. He’s right to ask them, to demand an answer. I empty my glass and put it down on the sideboard with more force than I intended. “Life is for the living, Harold.” I get it now. I get what the florist was trying to say. I turn to look at Harold, my eyes meeting his. “I won’t make my wife live in the past. And let me be clear, Harold. Amara will be my wife. She is not a pawn in your empire. She’s my queen, and I’ll be damned if I let you sacrifice her for one of your fucking mergers. She’s walking out of here with me tonight, if it’s the last fucking thing I do.”

He smiles at me and shakes his head. It’s a genuine smile, one that he attempts to hide his relief behind, but for perhaps the first time since I met him, I see through it.

“You’re insane if you think you can convince my granddaughter to even look at you. You broke her heart, and she hasn’t been the same ever since. She has her mother’s stubbornness. She won’t give you a chance. She’ll have you thrown out before you even reach her.”

I grin at him. “But you won’t let that happen, will you?”

He smiles at me and shakes his head. “One chance, Noah. You have one single chance.”

I nod. I’ve never felt more sure of anything. “One chance is all I need.”