Say Yes

“I’m a CEO; of course I’m not.”

“Heard Mackenzie was doing well.”

My hands froze on the keys as my heart struggled to beat.

“That’s good.” Back to typing I went.

Grant let me continue for a few minutes before he gave a long-suffering sigh.

“Dude, come on. Take a break and talk to me.”

I gave my own sigh, paused again, and looked up at my friend.

“What, Grant? What do you want? I’m busy—and aren’t you supposed to be, too?”

“Nah. The shoot wrapped a week ago. I have a month off before my next project. Don’t change the subject.”

I gave him a hard stare. I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to talk about Mackenzie.

Well, no fucking thanks. I had done a very good job thus far forcing myself to not think about her, let alone talk about her. I had thrown myself fully into work, pulling the company out of the rut that I had walked us into when I’d first married her, and I wasn’t going to break stride now.

“I’m busy, Grant,” I repeated. “There’s nothing to talk about—”

“Is that why your secretary called me begging me to talk to you? Because she’s pretty sure you’re going to burn out soon. She knows your schedule better than anyone, and she said you’ve been nonstop for the past three weeks.”

My brow furrowed. “Anna called you?”

“Of course she did. She has eyes. She probably knows you’re close to just falling down and dying. Which, fun fact, you definitely look like you are. When was the last time you ate?”

I thought for a moment.

“Two days ago? I had coffee this morning—”

“Jesus Christ. We’re getting lunch.”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“Fine. Breakfast.”

Less than fifteen minutes later, we were standing outside a food truck, waiting our turn to order tacos. A fuck-load of tacos, according to Grant. I wasn’t sure that counted as breakfast, but when I brought it up, Grant just rolled his eyes and told me anything could be a breakfast food if ‘a certain someone’ didn’t have a stick up his ass about it.

I ordered five tacos and a side of rice. All of it was piled into a Styrofoam box. Grant and I walked farther away from the office, toward a tiny little park tucked between tall buildings.

Sitting on a bench, Grant at least allowed me the opportunity to eat something before he started up the questions again. I was actually grateful for that. I hadn’t realized just how hungry my body had gotten while I was in my funk; my stomach grumbled to be filled with food and I obliged it readily, shoveling the first two tacos down with abandon.

On the third, I slowed down. It was then that Grant started to speak.

“So, I guess I can skip the pleasantries. Given that you look like death, there’s no point in asking how you’re doing, so I’m just going to get down to the point. I think you made a mistake. I think you know you made a mistake. And I think, before it’s too late, you need to get on it and fix that mistake, because Mackenzie is a good woman—the best damn woman in the world for you, maybe. And it’s only your goddamn pride that has you sitting here right now without the prospect of going home to Mackenzie later.”

I looked over to him, swallowing the last bite of my taco as my brows drew together. I was taken aback by the conviction in his voice. I was surprised he cared so much—or rather, that he was so insistent on it.

“It’s a little too late for that,” I said finally. “Divorce went through. She cashed the check. I don’t know what more you want from me.”

“Fucking hell. It’s not about what I want from you. It’s about what you want from you, you idiot.” Grant shook his head. “Seriously, you were so damn smart in school; how is it that your brain just decided to leak half your intelligence in the span of seven years? Seriously, dude.”

I rolled my eyes and set the Styrofoam box on the bench beside me before turning to him.

“What do you want me to say, Grant?” I was defensive and mildly annoyed, even though I knew he meant well. “That I was an idiot? That I should have told her I didn’t want to let her go when she joked about me being happily single again? Should I have told her there was no reason we should’ve ever broken up the first time, let alone the second time? What is it that you want me to say?”