Dexter started nodding as if he knew what the hell Beck was talking about.
“That regret will burrow deep—so deep eventually you’ll come to realize that not fighting for her was the worst mistake of your life. But worse than that, you’ll never be all the man you could be if you don’t have her by your side. If she’s the right woman, she’ll challenge you in a way that makes you better. She’ll love you in a way that makes you stronger. Just being with her will make you more of the person you were always meant to be.”
I felt trapped, paralyzed with fear as a juggernaut of truth came at me at a hundred miles an hour. What Beck was saying made sense. Parker made me better. I knew I was happier, stronger, more with her by my side. “But I’m not in control of everything. If she doesn’t want me, I can’t change that. If she dies, I can’t change that. If she wants a divorce when we’ve got kids and a life together . . . that will break me.”
I clenched my jaw, trying to hold back a lifetime’s worth of hurt. Being with Parker was even more terrifying than being without her. What if she put herself in danger again and got hurt? What if she left me? I’d rebuilt my life after my family was torn apart. I wasn’t sure I could do it a second time.
Dexter slung his arm around my shoulder. “That’s why you need her. Because you’ll be broken without her. There’s always a risk that somewhere down the line, something will change and tear you apart. Grief. Death. Whatever it is. But to avoid joy, to avoid life to keep yourself safe, isn’t living.”
Beck nodded solemnly. “You can’t avoid life, mate. You can’t purposefully avoid falling in love with the woman you’re meant to be with. It’s not right. I think your parents would tell you the same thing.”
I never talked about my sister with my parents. I never spoke about their divorce or the way my childhood had been overshadowed by illness, death, and divorce. What was the point? I’d learned my lesson—that I never wanted to feel like that again. I’d always thought that the easiest way to make that happen was not to care too much about anyone. Now with Parker gone, I was beginning to feel like I’d already let things go too far.
Thirty-Three
Parker
As we sat around the boardroom table talking about the next six months’ strategy for Sunrise, I had to constantly pull my attention back to the room. My mind kept wandering back to Tristan, to the way he’d told me he’d lie to me again if he had to do things all over again, the way he held my hand as he told me about Mike, the divorce papers sitting on my bedside table at home.
“I think another auction would be a great idea,” someone said. “The last one raised a lot of money.
“That’s because Parker had her husband bid,” another person answered.
I forced a smile, glancing at my ring finger on my left hand. I still wore the rings he’d given me. I wasn’t sure when I was supposed to take them off. When I moved out? When I signed the divorce papers? When I got over him?
“We can’t do another auction before the next gala, which isn’t until next year,” I said. “We should keep it as a special event.”
“Do you think we can convince Tristan to put himself up next year?” Ana said.
I bristled at the question. He was still my husband and would be for a while yet. We couldn’t file the divorce papers for months. But I wasn’t naïve. Even if he wasn’t put up for auction, Tristan would be dating soon enough.
“I’m not sure he’ll be amenable,” I said, trying to keep my tone as soft as possible.
“That’s a shame,” Ana replied. “I’d have bid.”
I checked the time on my phone. “I’m going to have to excuse myself. I have a meeting with a potential donor.”
I stood and exited the boardroom. I needed distraction, not discussion about Tristan. I turned into the reception area and saw someone waiting. Maybe my meeting was early.
“Parker, Mr. Fisher is here for you.”
I turned, and the elderly man in the grey suit in reception stood.
“Parker Frazer?”
I smiled and stepped forward to shake his hand. “Mr. Fisher.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“And you. Let’s go through to a meeting room.” I guided us down the corridor, invited him to sit, and set about pouring us some coffee.
“I must ask,” Mr. Fisher said. “I couldn’t help notice the spelling of your surname. Any relation to Arthur Frazer?”
“Yes,” I said. “Arthur is my dad.”
“He’s a good man. Rare that you get someone who’s so successful who doesn’t have any enemies. You can always count on him to do the right thing.” Mr. Fisher chuckled to himself. “I know it’s not a fashionable thing to say, but I honestly believe that it was because he married young and stayed married that he managed to keep balance in his life. He kept his priorities straight. We all need to remember that first and foremost we are someone’s son, daughter, husband, wife, mother, father.”