Page 115 of Fierce Storm
Maybe the best idea is to try to move on. Or at the very least, pretend to try.
Because, what else could we possibly do?
Chapter Thirty-Three
SALVATORE
Preseason comes to an end with our last game this weekend, and I half expect more of Gregory’s book of lies to be released. There’s so much positive energy surrounding the team right now that I wouldn’t put it past someone to try and bring us down.
Fortunately, I’m wrong, and as Paige’s wedding approaches, it couldn’t be more perfect.
Unless you count the cloud that’s been hanging over my head since I told Keeley I couldn’t do the casual thing anymore.
What a fucking idiot.
Who tells a stunning, intelligent, confident woman that they no longer want to have sex with them?
Hell, we didn’t even have sex and I shut it all down.
All because I was catching feelings.
Me. The guy that puts work over everything else.
The guy that hasn’t thought about a woman that way for too many years to count. And now that I have, she’s all kinds of off-limits.
I’m sure a therapist could fill a notebook on that revelation alone.
I’m already awake when my alarm goes off on the morning of Paige’s wedding, and I can’t decide if it’s because I’m excited or nervous.
On one hand, my daughter is getting married to a man that would give her the world if she asked for it. On the other hand, my daughter’s getting married. Period. My baby. The girl who once asked me if it was still okay to hold my hand even with everyone calling her a big girl.
The woman I let down.
Fuck, I’m lucky I was even invited to the wedding. Had it been five years earlier, that may not have been the case.
I take my time getting ready, buttoning the crisp white shirt I bought specifically for the occasion, being careful when I take my custom suit out of the garment bag, gliding my fingers over the imported Italian fabric.
I’m about to put on my shoes when a knock at my door interrupts me, and I stand up, my brows furrowing.
“I’m coming.”
No one can access my level unless they live in the building, and I know Paige stayed at the hotel last night after the game. Not that she’d be visiting her dad on the morning of her wedding.
After adjusting my tie, I open the door and come face-to-face with Camilla, her eyes wet with tears.
“She’s getting married, Salvatore,” she cries out as she lets herself inside, grabbing a photo off the table in my hallway. “I didn’t think I’d get emotional like this, but now that it’s here, it’s sinking in. She’s not coming home.”
The first tear falls and I almost laugh. This has nothing to do with Paige getting married and everything to do with Camilla wanting Paige to live near her forever.
“She’s been gone for years, Cami. You didn’t actually think she was going to move back home, did you?”
“Yes! I thought she’d come to her senses and realize she was meant to grow old in New York. She’s a socialite like me. It’s where she belongs.”
“Paige hasn’t been a socialite for a while. I’m afraid that ship has sailed. And that’s a good thing. She’s found her place. The woman she was meant to be. She has Easton and Isaac. A career that she loves. A family of friends.”
“We’re her family, Sal.”
“And she’ll always have us.”
