Chapter 9

JETT

After leaving the law offices in London, I get into a car and ask the driver to head toward the restaurant Lena selected for us to meet at.

We’re meeting a little sooner than planned, which allows me to secure an earlier flight home. I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight.

I’m not nervous or dreading seeing Lena. To me, it’s another business deal—a very personal business deal.

My goals are to finish dividing up our joint assets and saying whatever still needs to be said to gain closure. Most of this could’ve been achieved via lawyers, but I think Lena wants to meet in person for a variety of reasons.

I stride into the restaurant a few minutes late and see Lena sitting next to the window, looking down at her phone.

She looks up as I’m walking toward her and gives me a smile, but I can see the strain behind it. She stands and gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, stranger,” she says in her familiar, silky voice.

“Hi, Lena. How are you?” I ask as we sit down.

She pauses as she takes me in, then nods vigorously. “I’m good. Great, actually. How are you doing?” she asks, folding her hands in front of her.

I smile and nod once. “I’m good. Just had a little business to conduct here that couldn’t be done over the phone.”

“Well, I appreciate you squeezing me in,” she says. “I know you want to wrap a few things up before…” She trails off, and an awkwardness threatens to settle over the table.

“Something to drink, sir?” a waitress appears and asks me.

“Just water is fine,” I say as I look down at the menu.

“And would you like to put in your food order, or do you need a few minutes?” she asks.

“What would you recommend?” I ask.

“The bluefin tuna salad with a citrus vinaigrette is popular. Or if you’d prefer beef, we have—”

“The tuna sounds great.” I hand the menu back to her.

“And I’ll have the beet salad,” Lena says before looking at me with a smug smile. The waitress takes our menus and leaves. “I knew you were going to order that before you even walked in here.”

“I don’t like to fix things that aren’t broken,” I say with a shrug.

“You mean you don’t like to try new things,” she says with a smirk. “It’s okay to admit that you prefer routine.”

“Does this have something to do with why we’re here, Lena?” I ask, folding my arms. I don’t want to play her games today. I don’t have the energy for it.

“I just think it’s funny,” she says as she sips her water. “But since you brought it up, we should discuss our shared apartments and how we decide who gets what. I think I should get the house in Jackson Hole, and you can have—or sell, if you’d prefer—the apartment in Toronto.”

My eyebrows go up. “Really?” I ask.

“You haven’t been to Jackson Hole since our anniversary. You don’t even want it,” she says.

She’s not wrong, but immediately giving her what she wants feels unfair to me somehow.

“I think we need to sell both of them, and then you can buy your own place in Jackson Hole. You might recall, I was the one who purchased that home,” I say.

“And I made it ours. Come on, Jett, the apartment in Toronto is worth more anyway,” she says. “Plus, I’m letting you keep the place in New York.”

Now I’m annoyed. “That is my ~home~, Lena. You didn’t let me stay there out of the goodness of your heart, and we both know it.”

She sighs. “I know. You’re right,” she says as she fiddles with a bracelet. “Fine, you can take them both, but I’d like to recoup some of my renovation costs, and I need some time to get my things out of there.”

I nod. “That’s fine,” I say. “We’ll list in a month. I’ll have my realtor start the process. Let me know what I owe you for the renovations.”

She nods, her lips pulled into a tight, tense smile.

The waitress drops off our food and then leaves. I feel Lena’s eyes on me as I take a bite.

“For what it’s worth, Jett, I am sorry,” she says. “I don’t think I actually said that to you, but you didn’t deserve for things to end that way.”

I sigh as I look up at her. For the first time, I can see the pain in her face. It feels validating to have her finally take responsibility for the way things ended. But I still can’t seem to let my guard down.

“We both know how unfair life can be, Lena. I’m just glad you ended it before we got married. This could have been a much messier meeting otherwise,” I say as I take another bite.

“Really? That’s all you’re going to say? This is exactly what I struggled with, Jett. You act like nothing bothers you. You’re treating this like a business meeting. I was your ~fiancée~.”

I give a sarcastic laugh. Now I’m pissed again.

“Yes. You ~were~ my fiancée when you decided to end things with me without telling me. Do you have any idea what it’s like to hear your relationship is over from a journalist, Lena? Not to mention that you let the media run wild with speculation about me being a cheating bastard.”

“You’re right,” I continue. “I am treating this like a business meeting because anything remotely real between us is gone forever.”

Lena blinks at my harshness. I feel a pinprick of regret but push it away.

Finally, she looks down at the salad she’s barely touched and nods.

“I don’t think we ever actually had anything real,” she says. “We looked good on paper; our resumes were perfect. But at the end of the day, the heat in our relationship had fizzled out long before the tabloids published all that stuff.”

I sigh and rub my forehead. I’ve been ignoring all my feelings around our relationship, blaming ~her~ for something that we both let die simply because ~she~ was the one who ended it.

I look at her and see the same beautiful, ambitious, fiery woman I met three years ago and recognize that our lives were always too different. Maybe I was holding on to something that was never really there.

Obviously, she thinks so.

We finish the meal without any more sharp words. We politely ask about the other’s business ventures, future travel plans, and families.

After we walk out the front, Lena wraps her arms around herself and turns to me. Even though she’s nearly six feet tall, I have a random desire to bundle her up and hold her. Instead, I keep my arms at my sides.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me. I’m…glad we were able to talk finally,” she says.

I nod.

“Me too. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” I step toward her and kiss her cheek. “Do you need a ride?”

She shakes her head. “My friend’s apartment isn’t far from here, and I could use the walk.”

I nod and turn to the car that just pulled up. I take one last look at her as my car leaves the curb, and I convince myself I don’t see her wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.