When We're Thirty by Casey Dembowski (beautiful books to read .TXT) 📕

swallowed a sob as a fresh waterfall of tears wet her pillow. Their fight ran through her mind on repeat. It wasn’t just that she’d voiced doubts—of course, she’d had doubts—but she’d been cruel. They’d bound their lives without thoughts of the consequences or how they fit together. But they’d risen above it, and for a few blissful weeks, it was perfect. The last two weeks in Boston had illuminated how reckless they’d been. Coming back to New York had reinforced that idea, but it also showed Hannah that she was in this relationship for better or worse. If she walked away, she would do so with regrets. She never wanted to regret Will Thorne.

Hannah pulled her phone back out. She knew better than to call Will, though she itched to do so. It had taken him being admitted to the ER for her to answer his calls—she could give him one night. They’d still be married in the morning. There was, however, one thing she did have to do—call Riley. Maybe she’d gotten the assignment as a stipulation of Jonathan’s money. Maybe not. Either way, the Nulty interview had to be perfect—to prove them right or to prove them wrong.

Riley answered on the second ring. “Good timing. Danny’s got Cee in the bath, and Jo is in a milk coma.”

“Which means I have like three minutes before someone is screaming?”

“Ninety seconds, if we’re lucky.”

Hannah paused, bolstering her confidence. “Were you going to tell me that my father-in-law was the backer for Boston?”

“What? How... oh my god, I’m such an ass. It was in the chain, wasn’t it?” Riley’s voice took on a weepy edge.

Crap. Hannah hadn’t prepared for the baby blues. “Is that why you picked me?”

“No. Oh, Hannah, no.” Riley’s voice cracked. There was no doubt about the tears coming. Her boss might even be full-on crying. “How can you even...? No. You were my first thought when I heard about it, and that never wavered. I told Nate it was yours if you wanted it. He didn’t even tell me who the backer was at first—probably for that exact reason.”

Hannah breathed easy for the first time in hours. It had been about her. But there was still the matter of how it looked. “People are going to talk.”

“Fuck ’em,” Riley said, her voice suddenly firm.

“Riles.”

“I’m serious. You didn’t ask your father-in-law to support our magazine. And anyone who questions your right to run the Boston edition can have a little chat with me. The New York office wouldn’t be where it is today without you. You are the only one who knows how to start a magazine, because you did it with me five years ago. Even though your beat is Long Island, you have the most covers of anyone on staff. That isn’t happenstance, and it isn’t favoritism.”

Okay, she was going to cry too. Dammit.

Riley sniffled. “You are the only one I trusted with this assignment.”

Hannah wiped at the tears brimming her eyes. Riley had always been her champion, but she’d never had to champion for her before. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Always.” There was a weighted pause between them. Not uncomfortable, but Hannah could feel a question burning in Riley. “Do you know why he invested?”

Hannah wasn’t one for airing dirty laundry, but this was Riley. Did it matter that the investment had been an underhanded attempt to destroy Hannah’s marriage? Jonathan had taken a calculated risk. He’d had no guarantee that Hannah would be the one sent to run the Boston edition, and he wouldn’t have guessed that Hannah almost turned it down, because he still thought she and Will were acting. He was wrong, but his risk had paid off anyway. The truth wouldn’t hurt Jonathan; it would only hurt Will.

“No,” she said finally. “I have no idea why he decided to invest.”

Chapter 49Will

Will stared at the two messages in his inbox from Hannah. They had arrived the morning after their fight. Two days later, he still hadn’t opened them. The emails could be about anything. Maybe it was her explanation and apology. Maybe it was her admitting that she wanted out. Either way, he wasn’t ready. Everything about that afternoon still hurt. He’d gone to his apartment only to check that Hannah was officially back in Boston, and then he’d returned to Daniel’s love seat to await the call from his real estate agent.

Will closed his laptop and picked up the business card sitting on the table. Someone at Wellington Thorne, probably Grayson, had boxed up everything in his office and sent it to Daniel’s place. After years at the company, he had a single box of belongings to show for it. The contrast spoke volumes. Will pulled out his wedding photo. He needed to read Hannah’s emails, and then he needed to talk to his wife. Her silence after the Madison debacle had been thunderous. It had broken him in ways he was still processing. He didn’t want to do the same to her.

He pulled a card out of his Rolodex, surprised that it had made its way from his office and hadn’t be confiscated as company property. It was another sign that Grayson had sent the stuff over. Jonathan would have included a seething message about how his son was a complete and utter letdown, and Jon would’ve burned everything in effigy.

Will tapped the card against his leg, working up the courage to pick up his phone. Brady Douglas had been trying to get Will to leave Wellington Thorne for years. His firm recruited the best, and Will was nothing if not the best.

He dialed the number, his hands shaking. Maybe it had all been friendly banter from a competitor, something to ease the silence between opposing counsels. Will hit the call button and prayed for the best.

Twenty minutes later, after scheduling a lunch date with Brady Douglas and another with his top competitor, Will reopened his laptop. Hannah’s emails greeted him, bombs waiting to be detonated.