He's the Boss (Dance with Me #1): Boss-Employee Romance

Chapter 23: Secrets Too Heavy to Bear

Linc

Once, I believed losing my club would be the ultimate catastrophe. How naïve I was. That potential loss pales in comparison to the heart-wrenching pain I've experienced since parting ways with Brooke.

If I weren't so young, I'd worry I was on the brink of a cardiac arrest. They say you can die from a broken heart. I always wrote that off as nonsense. Until now. Even the thought of losing my legs and the ability to dance doesn't hold a candle to this torment. I never imagined I could love someone or something more than dance, yet every day without Brooke cracks open a new wound. My dancing feels off. My hunger is gone. Sleep eludes me.

A couple of days back, Claudia asked if I was all right. I laid it bare: feeling like a wreck and wishing to just die. She knew ending things with Brooke would be a struggle for me. Maybe it's my imagination, but she seemed genuinely concerned. Or perhaps she now realises the depth of my connection with Brooke. I'm just grateful she isn't pushing her own interests right now.

Walking into the club should bring a rush of excitement, a surge of joy. Yet, all I can do is mechanically go through the motions, wishing to wake up from this never-ending nightmare. I exchange jokes and smiles with my bouncers, Mick and Shane, but it's all for show. These people, who I've embraced as my own, could lose their livelihoods because of my failure. That's a burden that weighs heavily on a man's soul.

Usually, I'd breeze past Brooke and my bartenders with just a wave, particularly this week when Saxon has been hovering around her—a sickening blow to my already tortured emotions. True to his word, he swooped in the moment I stumbled. I've got no right to ask him to step back, not when I'm the one who hurt her. If anything, Saxon has every reason to tell me to fuck off.

But tonight, I can't just breeze past them with a casual wave. Approaching the bar, I note the shadows under Brooke's eyes. My heart fractures a little more when she avoids my gaze. How I long to pull her into my arms—to kiss her, to lose myself in her. If only for a fleeting moment, I wish I could pretend that I'm not crumbling piece by piece. Instead, I let my gaze trace her features, clenching my fist at my side to resist reaching out to her.

Saxon sidles up to Brooke, draping an arm over her shoulders and glaring at me as a warning. His action is like a burning, jagged blade—rusty and brutal—slicing through me. The fact that he can be there for her, providing the support she needs, while I'm left to wrestle with an unbearable truth, is just too much to endure.

The sudden urge to vomit claws its way up my throat, searing my insides, as I forcefully tear my gaze from them to look at Kane. "Is everything set for tonight?" I manage to ask, my voice raspy from the onslaught of emotions.

Kane nods. "Everyone is ready."

The bar team continues in their merriment, oblivious to my impending downfall and the potential threat to the club. Only Kane and Brooke are in the know. If the future buyer refuses my conditions, I might be left with nothing to offer these loyal workers who've given their all for me. I believed I was building something here. And while I hold no regrets for prioritising Brooke's safety, I also realise the collateral damage—she too will suffer if I can't safeguard the jobs of my employees.

"Good," I utter with a gulp.

I force myself to walk away before I give in to the impulse to pull Brooke over the bar, ask her about her wellbeing, inquire about Patricia, Belle, and confess how deeply I need her and love her.

The touch on my arm momentarily sends a surge of hope through my chest, but the bubble bursts instantly as I turn to find Claudia. The deflation leaves me feeling emptier than before.