Now there were no rules.
It was time to see what they could have moving forward and leave the past firmly behind. For the five years he was away from her, he’d been twisted inside at the thought of her making a life with someone else. Having his baby. Being happy in Harrington when once she’d belonged solely to him.
Her refusal to go with him to New York had helped cleanse the pain. He reminded himself that Sydney never could have loved him if she was getting married so quickly after their breakup.
But she’d finally told him a different truth. She’d tried to make a life with her husband but hadn’t loved him the same way. She’d never truly been able to move on from what they’d had. Neither had he. None of the women he’d dated over the years held his attention long. His affairs held a shallowness he despised as he surged forward¸ constantly looking for depth and purpose in his relationships.
All roads seemed to lead back to Sydney. It may not have been their time before, but they’d grown up, and it was time to face the reality.
They still cared about each other.
He closed his eyes and wished his brothers were here. They balanced him, able to use snarky humor and a deep love to take him away from the clouds of the memories. But now, in the dark, alone, the past came back for him.
He remembered the first few months in New York City away from her. He’d landed a decent apartment and begun working with an up-and-coming real estate agency that had been impressed with his background and credentials. For the first time, he was truly on his own. He’d fallen in love with the raw glory of Manhattan and left his father’s tight rule behind to build his own future.
But Sydney wasn’t with him.
A gaping hole in his gut haunted him. He rarely slept, thinking over and over of their terrible fight and how he’d left. The poisonous words launched at each other like darts. The wounds still bled, and he realized he wasn’t whole without her. He needed to go back and make things right. He needed to find a way to see if their relationship could move forward, because he’d made a huge mistake leaving her behind. Yes, she was young. But sometimes fate wasn’t neat and tidy. He was beginning to realize certain things didn’t look good on paper but felt perfect within the heart.
So he decided to go back to Harrington to see if she’d come to New York with him. When he couldn’t find her in the office, the assistant had told him she was getting married. That she was at that very moment at her bridal fitting.
Not believing it, Tristan headed to the bridal shop and discovered her in the dress. But she wasn’t the same Sydney. This new Sydney was cold, and distant. There was no warmth or welcome in her eyes. No love.
No forgiveness.
When he left, he swore he’d never think of her again. It was time to start his new life. It was easier to focus on her betrayal.
Tristan finished his wine and stood. But so much had changed. Time softened the past and made him realize how many mistakes they’d both made. Maybe it was time to create a new path for them and forgive. They’d both been young and temperamental. The world was cruel to people in love. The years had ripened them and allowed enough time for them to heal. Tristan knew he’d regret not trying to see if there was a way to write a brand-new story.
With a brand-new ending.
The next morning, Sydney opened her door to a man holding a bunch of sunflowers. Puzzled, she tipped him, carried them inside, and read the card.
Dear Becca,
You danced beautifully. Congratulations.
Love, Tristan
Sydney stared at the flowers. Read the card again.
The trembling started deep inside her body and spread everywhere, until her fingers were shaking as she gripped the note.
He’d sent her daughter flowers. How many times had she ached when Becca stared at the fathers gifting their little girls bouquets of roses on recital night? She’d sworn it didn’t matter because she was able to give Becca so much more than flowers. She was able to give her a beautiful life with stability and love and comfort.
But right now, her axis shifted, and she realized everything had suddenly changed.
She just didn’t know what to do about it yet.
Dragging in a breath, she called out to her daughter. As Becca raced down the stairs, she caught sight of the sunflowers, and her eyes widened. “Mama, did you buy me flowers?” she asked with delight.
Her throat closed up with emotion. “No, honey, someone else did. Here’s your card.”
Becca read the note and gave a whoop, grabbing the bouquet and sticking her nose deep into the flowers. “I love them! Can I call Tristan to tell him I got them?”
Sydney nodded, handing her the phone. “The number’s right here. Just click on this and see if he answers.”
As Becca bounced around the room with her blooms, Sydney heard her begin to chatter with excitement. Finally the phone was thrust into her hands. “Tristan wants to talk to you!”
She put the phone to her ear. Thank goodness he couldn’t hear the wild thrum of her heart. “Hello?”
“She seemed to like them.”
His voice was smooth and poured over her like hot fudge and creamy caramel. Her thighs squeezed together. “She loved them. Thank you. How did you know her favorite flower?”
“She told me. We shared a moment over the explosion of pink sparkles.”
A chuckle escaped her lips. “What I would’ve given to see that.”
“I discovered a few other surprises. But I’ll tell you about them another time.”
“That sounds ominous.” His wicked laugh tickled low in her belly and brought a rush of heat. Oh, he was dangerous. She had to get off the phone. She tried to stick to business. “I intend to get the suppliers to sign off tomorrow and scheduled a Friday trip into the city.”
“Works for me.” He paused. “What are you doing today?”
The low rumble over the phone screamed of intimacy. Her nipples tightened. Damn him. “Exciting stuff,” she drawled. “More laundry, cleaning toilets, and prepping meals for the week.”
“I can take you both out to lunch.”
The casual offer was dangerous. It seethed with possibility and a male curiosity that hadn’t been there before. He’d invited her daughter. He wanted to share a meal with them. They’d barely been on speaking terms a week ago, and now a connection had formed.
“Thanks for the invite, but I can’t. Too much going on. I’ll see you tomorrow?”