Page 542 of Manhattan Bossholes

I sliced through the packaging carefully to reveal a pristine white box.

“I bet it’s a gown. Or a Picasso, or gold ingots,” Steph said, bouncing on her toes. “C’mon, move faster.”

But I didn’t want to. I placed the box flat on the ground and slowly lifted the top off. Steph clapped her hands like a dork as she peered over my shoulder.

“No card?” she asked.

I shook my head.

Beneath the white tissue paper was a stretch of black leather, embellished with silver nail heads in the corners. I pulled it out slowly.

“Is that a trunk?” Steph asked, sounding indignant.

“No…it’s a suitcase,” I murmured.

But not just any suitcase. It was a work of art, with grommets that made it look a little rock and roll, two black straps banding across it, a telescoping handle and wheels that turned on a dime.

Steph frowned as I admired the thing. “Well, that’s kind of weird. Why would he buy you a suitcase? I’m sorry, but that’s not romantic at all.”

Tears flooded my eyes, because it actually was.

James was one of the few people who knew my sad history, that I’d never had a suitcase of my own during my many childhood upheavals. And he understood the trauma that I still felt about being forced to pack my life into a garbage bag. Sure, it was just a suitcase, but we both knew that it symbolized so much more.

That he’d heard me as I spilled my secrets. He understood how something so seemingly insignificant could mean so much. It wasn’t the gift that mattered, it was the sentiment behind it.

I glanced at her, blinking back my tears.

“Ohhh, of course. The garbage bags,” Steph said softly. “Now I get it.”

I stared at the ridiculous, beautiful thing.

“Let’s see what the inside looks like,” she said.

I unbuckled the straps and popped the silver locks open to find a white envelope attached to the lining.

Steph started backing away from me. “I’m gonna, uh, go wash my face while you read that, okay? Holler if you need me.”

I nodded wordlessly as I walked back to the couch to open the envelope. My eyes filled with tears the moment I saw the scrawl of black ink covering the page.

Natalie,

Before I say anything else I first want you to know how sorry I am for hurting you. I’m heartbroken that I brought you back to those painful feelings from your past. And what’s worse, through it all I made you doubt the depth of my emotions. I made you feel like you weren’t my priority. That all changes now.

Because I love you.

Of course, I’ve already told you that, but I want you to understand I’m putting those words into action. I’ve always believed that nothing mattered more than my legacy with Branson, but being with you has made me realize that a legacy built on bricks alone doesn’t mean a thing. I want to create a future with you, Natalie. To show you, every day, that my love for you will never waver. And there’s only one way to prove it to you.

I’m leaving Branson Designs.

I plan to step down as CEO and devote myself to living a life of balance. I want to focus on what truly matters, like the beauty of a sunset over the ocean. An unexpected trip. Laughing more. Sleeping late.

Loving you.

All I want to do from this day forward is make you happy. I want you to understand that you are irreplaceable to me. Please give me the chance to show you all the ways I love you.

I want to spend the rest of my life with you—but I need you to know that I’m not going to reach out to you again. The decision about how, and if, we move forward from here is entirely up to you. You’ve already pushed me away once, and I don’t think my heart could take it if you decide to do it again. Please consider this my invitation to do as you wish. Just know that my door will always be open to you, and if you’re looking for a place to call home, I’d like it to be right by my side.

Love always,