I don’t want to become my father.
I’ve spent my entire life striving to be better than him, to the point of following in his same footsteps to usurp him. I spent far too much of my time trying to destroy him when I should have been focusing on what’s important.
I don’t plan on making the same mistake. Not anymore.
I return to the hotel expecting to find Iris in the room, but discover it empty of all her things. Did she get another room because she wanted to avoid me?
After what I said, I wouldn’t blame her. But if she thinks I’m going to have her sleep somewhere else, she’s mistaken.
Couples fight. We can get through this. But first, I need her to listen to me.
I check my messages, but none are from Iris. My heart beats harder against my chest as I call her cellphone and it goes directly to voicemail.
“Shit.” I throw my phone on the bed, and it bounces against a piece of white paper that blended into the comforter. I’m almost afraid to turn it over but suck it up. The message is my worst fucking nightmare.
Consider this my informal resignation letter. Formal notice will arrive on your desk this Monday at 9 a.m. —Iris
I crumple the paper before chucking it in the trash bin. I’m not letting her quit because we got into one fight about work, no matter how much she might want to. My words were harsh, uncalled for, and out of line, but that doesn’t mean she can quit without giving me a chance to make it up to her.
But first you need to find her.
“Shit.”
43
DECLAN
I can’t find Iris anywhere in the hotel. The only other place besides the park that I think she would go to is Rowan’s place.
I take a deep breath and knock against his door. The light above me turns on before the door swings open, revealing Zahra on the other side. She looks bright and cheery as always—like she gets her energy straight from the sun. I don’t know how my brother can stand it.
“Have you seen Iris?” I don’t bother with pleasantries.
“Umm, shouldn’t she be with you?”
I turn around and walk down the steps, not wanting to waste any more time.
“Hey! Wait!” Zahra chases after me.
I speed up.
“Stop!”
I don’t.
The sound of flip-flops smacking against the ground makes me grind my teeth together. I ignore Zahra calling after me, only to be stopped by my brother on his way back from his run.
He pops an earbud out as he scowls at me. “What are you doing here?”
Zahra stops beside me, trying to catch her breath. “Has anyone told you that you have very long legs?”
“Why are you chasing after my brother?”
“Because I wanted to talk to him, but he didn’t want to be caught.”
Rowan raises a brow at me. “Care to explain why you are running away from my girlfriend?”
I take a deep breath. “I don’t have time to chat. I’ve wasted enough of it as it is.”
“Then make time.”
“I’m trying to find Iris.”
“Good luck with that.”
I take a step forward. “Do you know where she is?”
“I’ll tell you if you do what Zahra asks and give her a few minutes of your time. It’s the least you can do after acting like such a dick to me earlier, don’t you think?”
My jaw clenches. “Fine. Speak.” I look down at Zahra.
“Can we go inside first? I need a glass of water.”
My short fuse burns down to nothing as I follow them back into the home I spent most of my youth vacationing at. The memories slam into me as I take in Mom’s porch swing, still hanging in the same spot years later.
“It’s my favorite place in the whole house.” Zahra shoots me a small smile.
Of course it is.
I ignore her as I walk through the front door. The place hasn’t changed besides a fresh paint job and more modern furniture. There’s still a doorframe by the kitchen that has our height marks over the years, with me being the tallest.
“It’s pretty weird coming back here after so long, huh?” Rowan leans against the kitchen counter, observing me as I take it all in.
“How do you stand living here?”
“It reminds me of some good times.”
“That makes one of us.”
The corners of his lips lift in a silent reply.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Zahra pops her head into the fridge.
“Water is good.”
She pours me a glass before making one for herself.
“So, would anyone like to tell me why I’m being held emotionally hostage here?”