41. Cora
Chapter forty-one
Cora
T he soft golden lights of Eden seem brighter tonight, almost intrusive. I kneel on stage, palms resting on my knees, fighting the urge to cover myself, to shield my body from the possessive gaze of potential clients. Even though I’ve been through this before, every look cuts through me tonight, picking apart my armor. It’s my first night back at Le Jardin. Nerves hum beneath my skin, and although I’m not as scared as the first time—when I was on the verge of a panic attack—I’m still vulnerable. I doubt I’ll ever be truly comfortable if it’s not James I’m kneeling for.
I mentally shake my head. Now is not the time to be thinking about James. It will only lead me down a path I can’t afford to go down. I force myself to shove the thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. I need to be present; I need to stay focused. This is just another night, another transaction.
Movement stirs around me, a subtle shift of the air, but I keep my eyes down, waiting to hear my fate. A voice. A choice.
Then I hear it.
“Stand.”
His voice slides through the air, deep and unmistakable. My heart stumbles, equal parts anger and relief flood my body, crashing into one another like waves during a storm. Of course it’s him. It had to be him.
I lift my eyes slowly. James stands before me, tall and commanding, his hands shoved into the pockets of his perfectly tailored suit.
Heat crawls up my neck.
I should turn him down. I should say no. But instead, I take his offered hand. My fingers curl around his, and without a word, I rise from my knees and follow him out of the lounge. Eden isn’t the place for a scene, and I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me fired.
As soon as we step into the private room and the door closes behind us, sealing us off from the world, I spin around, fury crackling through me.
“You’ve got some balls being here,” I snap, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.
James doesn’t flinch. His voice drops low. “I don’t want to fight, Cora. I just need you to hear me out.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to fuck you.” I laugh bitterly, lifting my chin as I stare him down.
He takes a step closer, holding his hands up in surrender. “Cora, I’m not here for that. I’m here for you . To apologize.”
I scoff, turning away from him, my jaw clenching.
Apologize? Now?
It’s been three months since he tried to take my baby. Every morning, I see him on my way to work, and every morning, I ignore him. I shouldn’t be surprised that he knew I’d be back working Le Jardin tonight.
I make my way to the bed, every muscle tight, like a wire stretched too thin. I’m not about to lose tonight’s pay because of him. If nothing else, I’m going to get some damn sleep. I crawl under the covers, the sheets cool against my skin. I turn my back to him, let my body sink into the mattress.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“What does it look like?” I pull the blanket up to my shoulder, my back still to him. “Go on, this is gonna be good. I’m listening.”
For a moment, he doesn’t move. Then I hear the rustle of fabric, the quiet clink of his belt being unbuckled. My breath catches for a second as I peek over my shoulder. He’s undressing, but when he slides into the bed, he’s still wearing his boxers. A tiny relief, though my guard doesn’t drop.
Good. If he even thinks of coming near me with that monster cock of his…
He leaves a respectful stretch of space between us. I whack my pillow, fluffing it up before sinking into it again.
“I messed up,” James starts. “I thought I was doing what was best for Leo… for Jonathon. I thought I was protecting him. That I was doing what Jon would have wanted.”
The bed shifts as he mirrors my position, lying on his side, facing my back. I don’t move, don’t respond, but my heart pounds against my ribs.
“I know I hurt you, Cora. I hurt you in a way I can’t take back. And I’m fucking sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me right now. But you need to know that I love you. I love you, and I’ll be there for you. Every morning, until you’re ready to let me back in. I’m not going anywhere.”
I stare at the wall, biting the inside of my cheek, trying to keep my breathing steady. I want to stay angry, to keep that shield of bitterness between us. But his words—they’re chipping away at the defenses I’ve tried so hard to keep up.
Rolling onto my back, I stare at the ceiling. My throat is tight, tears brimming behind my eyes. My mouth opens for all the words I want to throw at him—the things I should say, the hurt I should unleash. But my voice betrays me, trembling as I whisper, “You don’t know how much you hurt me.”
James shifts beside me, turning onto his back, our shoulders almost touching. The silence stretches, thick with everything we’ve left unsaid.
“I need time,” I say softly, struggling to get the words out. “You hurt me in a way I can’t just… forget.”
His hand moves under the covers, searching for mine. Our fingers brush together, tentative, and for a moment, I hesitate. Every instinct screams at me to pull away, to hold on to my anger—it’s safer. But then… I don’t. I don’t know why, but in that moment, I just… need something steady. And his hand is there. Our fingers entwined, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension eases. The silence between us feels lighter now, no longer suffocating.
“I get it,” he says quietly. “I’ll wait, Cora. For as long as it takes. I’ll be here, waiting.”
His words are soft but certain. And for once, I believe him. His hand tightens around mine under the covers, a quiet promise. We lie there, side by side. And finally, I allow myself to breathe.
We fall asleep like that, fingers entwined.
Nothing’s fixed. We’re not healed. But for tonight, maybe this fragile connection is all we need to survive the wreckage.