IRL: In Real Life (After Oscar, #1)(69)

I didn’t understand. “Right. Like I said. I don’t need any more intel. The project is… wait. What kind of intel?”

Win sighed. “Men, I swear to god.”

Deb held out a hand for a fist bump before turning back to me. “His mom is back in the hospital and—”

I jumped to my feet, cutting her off. “What? Is she okay?” Conor had to be going out of his mind with worry. I hated to think of him sitting all alone in the hospital, trying to handle everything on his own. I began to pace, trying to figure out what I could do to help. Where was my phone?

Deb held up a hand, trying to corral me into place. “She’s going to be fine. She has pneumonia, and she needed stronger antibiotics than they could give her at home.”

I blew out a relieved breath. “That’s good news, then.”

Deb bit her lip. “There’s more. One of Conor’s game shop managers just quit.”

My stomach dropped. “Seriously?” I resumed my pacing. I needed to keep moving or the mental and emotional exhaustion would take over. “How is he supposed to hire a replacement while he’s helping his mom?”

Deb hesitated before speaking. “I could contact a placement agency…”

“No,” I barked. “He’d never accept that.” I noted the startled look on her face and tried to soften my tone. “But thanks for offering.”

I escaped to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of Deb’s coffee, and when I returned, Win and Deb were discussing something about love languages.

“No psychobabble. I beg you,” I said, taking a sip of the hot, rich blend. I hoped the caffeine would perk me up and bring me some kind of miracle solution.

“It’s not psychobabble,” Deb said. “Love language is how you show and perceive love. You know, like whether someone telling you how they feel about you or surprising you with a thoughtful gift makes you feel more loved.”

Win turned to me, a calculating look in her eye. “Maybe financial support is your love language, Wells.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “But what’s Conor’s?”

I thought about all the little details I’d learned about him in the short time we’d known each other. Somehow, I didn’t think ‘being told what to do in bed’ was what she was looking for. “How the hell would I know?”

Win rolled her eyes. “And you wonder how you lost him,” she grumbled under her breath.

Deb ignored her. “How does he show his mother love?” she asked with exaggerated patience.

“By taking care of her health and taking over her work when she can’t do it,” I said after thinking a minute. “I think he would have even taken on some of her bloody experiments if it meant easing her burdens. And the poor guy gets queasy when he sees blood.”

Win and Deb exchanged a look. “Well, I think you have your answer, then.”

I frowned. “I do?”

Deb threw up her hands. “Acts of service.” She turned to Win with a sigh. “Men, I swear,” she grumbled. “Let’s go get greasy appetizers and cocktails,” she said to Win. “I have Wells’s business Amex—he can treat in absentia.”

Win stood and patted me on the shoulder. “Yes, you do. Now go show that man how much you love him.” She started toward the front door while Deb slipped her heels back on.

I swallowed, suddenly nervous and unsure of myself. “But what if it’s not enough?” I called after her.

She turned and smiled. “Remember, Wells, you can’t control love. All you can do is give it freely and unconditionally.” She blew me a kiss. “Let me know how it goes.”

I spent a long time after they left sitting in my living room, staring out the windows at snow-shrouded Central Park surrounded by the crush of skyscrapers. It was such a familiar view that I often took it for granted, not really seeing it even when I was looking right at it.

In many ways, that felt like what had become of my life. That I was living it the same way: only making a passing acknowledgment of its existence every now and again. Never stopping to truly take it in and appreciate it. After Mark’s betrayal, I’d been so intent on proving to everyone—my father, Win, the world—that I was okay. That I didn’t need a partner to succeed.

I’d never taken the chance to wonder what I really envisioned that success looking like. I thought it meant money. A penthouse with the right address and impressive views. The right kind of job with an influential company. Power.

I had all of that now, and somehow it wasn’t enough. I’d thought that if I just worked harder, earned more, grew the company faster, it would somehow fill the empty place inside me. I’d been wrong. Because it turned out the only person who could fill that spot was Conor.

And I’d fucked it up.

I had to figure out a way to fix it.

But I had to figure out a way to fix my own life first.





27





Conor





I’d spent almost every minute of the first several days after I left New York at the hospital with Mom or on the phone with the specialty clinic in Chicago, trying to arrange for her to be admitted to a new experimental treatment program they were starting in a few weeks. It was one of the reasons we’d been in such a rush to close the deal with Grange and get the money in the bank. Technically the admission window for the program had closed, but my mother was a perfect candidate and I was trying to get them to make an exception.