Within These Walls (Within These Walls #1)(89)

“And the other,” Roman continued without bothering to answer me, “was immediate access to his account that I’d frozen years earlier. Now, I didn’t think much of it at the time, and I agreed to both on the spot. You’ve seen the news, I’m sure. Cavanaugh Investments wasn’t in a good place, and I would have agreed to just about anything, so I could hand over the reins to my younger brother.”

“Again, I don’t understand why we are having this conversation.”

He smiled. “You’re very impatient.”

“You would be, too, if you’d spent your entire life stuck on the outside, looking in.”

“We all have prisons and chains that keep us from the one thing we really want in life, Lailah. Yours were just bigger and stronger than most.”

“And what do you want most in this life, Roman?” I challenged, raising my eyebrow. I took a slow sip of coffee.

“Freedom,” he answered. “Just like you.”

“Handing everything over to your brother hasn’t turned out the way you expected?” I smirked, watching the pleasant smile on his face disappear.

“He might have solved our problems, but he’s not happy. He’s goddamn miserable.”

I shook my head. “He doesn’t appear to be miserable in the gossip magazines. Apparently, he’s dating a coworker. They’re very happy,” I sneered.

His eyes heated in anger. “Don’t believe everything you hear on TV or see in the papers, Lailah. Leaving you destroyed my brother. He’s nothing but an empty shell.”

“Well then, why isn’t he here, telling me that himself?” I asked a bit too loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads.

Roman looked around and cursed. “Do you think you could be a little more discreet?”

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Why do you think Jude needed all that cash? All of a sudden? When he got home and I saw he’d traded his Sperrys and Polos for grungy jeans and tats, I figured he’d gotten himself into trouble. But the more I was around him, the more I realized it had less to do with him, and more to do…with you.”

“Me?” My eyes widened as everything started to settle into place.

I will never stop fighting for you

“Oh God, it wasn’t a dream. He was here—after my surgery. He was here,” I blurted out as my eyes began to blur.

“Did you really believe the insurance company would reverse a denial that quickly?”

“He paid for my transplant?”

“Yes,” Roman answered. “I finally did a bit of digging and discovered where he was wiring all those funds to. With the aid of a few friends, I was able to track the bank trail back to you. My mother filled in the rest, bursting like a dam when I showed her all the evidence. Apparently, she’s been carrying the secret of you around for a long time.”

“Your mother knows about me?” I asked, blinking away tears.

“Yeah,” he answered. “She’d really like to meet you.”

“He didn’t abandon me,” I said as an overwhelming feeling of hope spread through me. For once in my life, the feeling didn’t scare me. Hope was a terrifying risk for someone like me, but as many times as I’d been disappointed or overwhelmed with joy in life, everything had brought me to that hospital for a reason.

“So, what do we do now?” I asked.

“Now, we catch a flight, and you save my brother the way he saved you.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

Number eight-seven—Fly on a plane.

Check.

Thirty-two: An Unwritten Future—Jude

WARM CALIFORNIA SUNLIGHT drifted lazily through the windows, illuminating her long tawny-blonde hair like a halo. She smiled up at me, as the bare skin of her shoulders peeking out from under the dark cobalt sheets.

That was how I always remembered her.

I pushed back from my desk and turned away from the photo. I’d placed it there weeks ago because I needed to see her face again, and I needed a reminder of why I was here and not in that bed, holding the woman I loved.

Maybe it was a bit sadistic, having a token that constantly showed me everything I’d lost and didn’t have. But every day since I’d made that call to Roman and walked away from her had done the exact same thing. Just sitting here in this office was enough of a reminder.

At least seeing her beautiful smile, her love radiating in her tender blue eyes, confirmed everything I was doing, the reason I was here.

She was alive.

Somewhere in Santa Monica right now, she was starting over, having the life she’d always wanted, and none of that would have happened if I wasn’t sitting here.

I looked at my watch and realized I was nearly late for a meeting. I pressed the intercom button and waited for Stephanie, my secretary, to respond.

“Yes, Mr. Cavanaugh?” she replied.

“Jude, Stephanie—it’s just Jude.” I laughed.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cavanaugh—Jude…sir?”

Stephanie had been my father’s secretary before she inherited me, and I thought the loss of formality I’d instituted with the few employees who worked directly for me confused and scared her.

When I’d told her she was free to wear whatever she’d like to work from now on, her response had been, Do I have to?