I flinch in my chair. “Good to know,” I murmur, beginning to feel drained already, and I’ve only been here five minutes. “Good talking.” I hang up and pull up Ava’s number. Call her. Just to hear her voice. Just to level out my mood. I look down at my Rolex. It’s only been an hour since I left her. Too much?

I drop my forehead to my desk, giving it a good whack, my phone clenched in my fist. I give that a good whack on the desk too. All she had to do was spend the day with me. It’s not too much to ask.

There’s a knock on the door, and someone strolls in. I remain slumped over my desk, but I manage to lift my head a bit to see who. John looks over his glasses at me. Shakes his head. And leaves without a word.

I pull my laptop closer. Flowers. Send her flowers. Loads of flowers. I need to constantly send her flowers or books or . . . anything, just to remind her I’m here. Or one flower. The flower that reminds her of me. Understated elegance. I smile, relaxing back in my chair, seeing her in my mind, gazing at me as she accepted the single calla. How much more will she accept? The flowers, yes. My body, yes. This unrelenting need to see her every day? I hope so. My Manor? I gaze around my office, my eyes falling on the cabinet that’s still loaded with alcohol. My history? I swallow, my hand naturally resting on my lower stomach. History, Ward. It’s all history. And it’ll stay that way.

I dive back on my laptop to order the flowers, looking up when Sarah strolls in, her eyes on her phone. I snap my laptop shut. “You’re here,” she says without looking up.

“I’m here,” I confirm, wishing I fucking wasn’t. “What’s happening?”

She glances my way. Definitely recoils. “You look . . . stressed.”

I stand and round my desk. It’s this place. Obviously I can’t deal with it when I’m sober. “I’m moving today,” I say lamely, passing her. “A lot on my mind.” I haven’t once thought about the fact that I’m moving today. Not once. I need to call Cathy. “How are the rooms coming along?”

Sarah follows me, her heels clicking the floor. That irritates me too. “All of the beams are now reinforced. What about the designs? How are they coming along?”

Good question. I need Ava back here, and not just to design. Close. Keep her close. She’s young, beautiful, ambitious. It’s only a matter of time before a more suitable match comes along and sweeps her off her feet. A younger, unbroken man. I frown. Not happening. “Great,” I lie, as we pass through the summer room. “And the anniversary party?”

“Invites have gone out.”