Page 88 of Bound Hearts

“I wish I could help more,” he says as he takes a seat.

I wave him off. “Your marketing is not much use in this situation.”

“Still, I could give a character recommendation or…”

Shaking my head, I appreciate his support, but it’s not me who needs saving. “I’m part of the problem, but not the one with the most to lose. I could get a slap on the wrist, but I’m not the one who risks the bar association. Sutton does if the review doesn’t come up in her favor. As for me, I’m the one who is causing this. If she and I never…”

Easton snickers a sound of disapproval. “Don’t even think that. You have a wife and a kid on the way, and it wouldn’t have happened without taking the step with her.”

“I wish I had a way to make this easier for her. For fuck’s sake, the baby will be here in only a few weeks, and this is the bullshit she has to deal with. Every time I see her struggle, my chest tightens with anger and helplessness. If I ever find out who has put my wife in this position, then I swear I will find a way to ruin them.” I grind out my complete hate for who it could be.

He brushes a piece of lint off his sweater arm. “I’m not sure you can do anything about the office situation except trust the process. As for other personal issues, then find a way to solve that now. Something to ease her stress. Take one block away, you know?”

I’m listening, and it triggers a flurry of ideas in my head. “You make it sound so simple. Maybe I need to step back for a hot minute.”

Easton shrugs as he stands. “Get out of the office, Foster. I’m not sure you will think clearly here, surrounded by reminders of current work hell, and I doubt that at home with a crying Sutton will be much better.”

My nose tips up in acknowledgment of his advice.

When he’s at the door, he gives me a comforting half-smile. “Listen to me for once.”

I haven’t been in my mother’s rose garden for a few months. My dad has someone take care of it so there is a rose in bloom year-round, even if only one. Leaning against the trellis arch, I take a long inhale of the fresh air and run through ideas in my head. There is one, and I keep circling back to it.

“You look like shit. Did you and Sutton not make up yet?” Patrick must have stopped by to see my dad, as he does a few afternoons a week.

I'm too numb to even feel agitated by him anymore; our last talk left me cold, and every ounce of my emotion is now fiercely guarded for my wife alone.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” I admit. There is no need to clue him in on the current predicaments of my life.

To my surprise, he doesn’t press. Instead, he only hums a sound and looks at the same lone light pink rose as I do.

“Hey, since you’re here, can I ask you something? I’m not sure why it didn’t come to me earlier.” Then again, I’ve lacked judgment a few times recently.

“What?”

Turning to him, I decide to go for it. “We’ll get to keep the two percent no matter what, but what if I give you and dad my shares, as well?”

He scoffs. “Why would you do that?”

“Wouldn’t you want it?” I’m positive he would be thrilled to have a larger stake.

The smug smirk is too knowing. “Foster, you’ve kept it all along because of Mom. You wouldn’t want to lose that connection.”

“My wife is more important. I want to show her that I don’t need any connections to the company, no more problems.”

He shakes his head gingerly and sighs. “Look, I wouldn’t complain if you gave us more. Hell, I would celebrate. But when the fog clears, you’d regret it. Then we’ll only piss each other off more. You won’t be able to escape the fact that your kid saved the company. That’s a constant reminder.”

I rub the back of my neck, the day beating me up to a pulp. I’m exhausted, but I have to stay strong for Sutton. My desperation has me studying everything from every angle, and I’m getting even more desperate if that is even possible.

“Think about what it would entail.” I attempt to keep the option on the table.

“Fine. But now that you’ve offered, don’t think I will let it go, either.” That I was already assuming, it’s his genuine care in his tone that I find new.

Taking a few steps forward, I snap the rose from the bush.

“Eeks.” He grimaces. “I don’t give roses to women, but I’m positive you just ruined the bush in some way, and the gardener is going to be pissed off.”

Glancing down, I check the rose. “Who the fuck cares?”