The Hotel Room: His Broken Vows

Chapter Twenty-Four - Kate

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Kate

The room was dark except for the faint glow of the moonlight pressing through the curtains. Soft shadows stretched across the walls, and the only sound was the quiet rhythm of James’s breathing behind her.

Kate lay awake, curled on her side, her body pressed into the familiar shape of his.

His chest was warm against her back, his breath a steady pulse near her neck, and one hand rested low and protective over her stomach, where the slight curve of her growing bump was just beginning to show.

It felt...comforting. Familiar. The way he had always held her during her pregnancies, like he needed to shield her. Like this was where he belonged .

And yet—

The ache in her chest twisted deeper, sharp and relentless.

How can I feel safe in his bed…when he betrayed me?

The memory hit hard, flashing unbidden behind her eyelids.

That hotel room.

The too-bright lights.

The sound of skin against skin, the unbearable reality of it.

James— her James—pumping, thrusting himself into that woman.

He’d taken his ring off. She’d seen his hand on the woman’s hip, bare, no trace of the promise he’d made to her when they were just kids.

The ring he chose to slip off when he chose to betray her.

And yet, here they were now.

In the same bed. His body wrapped around hers. His hand on her stomach where their baby grew, holding her like she was something fragile and precious.

Her throat felt tight, her breath uneven as she stared into the darkness.

She hated him.

And she loved him.

It was the most unbearable contradiction—this pull of anger and grief and longing.

Because despite everything...despite the pain...his presence still made her feel safer than anything else ever had.

How could that be?

How could he break me like that and still be the only person I want when I feel this vulnerable?

The baby slept beneath his palm. Their child. The child created between love and pain, tangled as deeply as the ache in her chest.

She didn’t know how long she lay there, caught between the past and the unbearable weight of the present.

Gently, carefully, she let her fingers trace his—just barely, just enough to find the band on his ring finger.

The ring was there now.

Solid. Real.

A symbol she once trusted without question.

James shifted slightly behind her, his breath catching as her fingers brushed over his.

But he didn’t speak.

He didn’t press.

He just stayed there, holding her.

And Kate couldn’t tell if the tears slipping silently onto the pillow were for the love they still shared—

Or for the love she wasn’t sure she could trust anymore.

══════════════════

The suitcase sat by the front door, zipped and ready to go. Kate hated it. Hated the way it sat there like a symbol of everything wrong between them.

James stood in the kitchen, rinsing out his coffee mug, his movements too calm, too measured. He turned to her, drying his hands on a dish towel, his face carefully neutral.

“I don’t have a choice, Kate,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “It’s work. It’s one night. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, leaning against the counter. The hard edge of the granite pressed into her back, grounding her even as the anger roiled in her chest.

“For work,” she repeated bitterly. “Like the time I walked into that hotel room and—”

Her voice broke, and she stopped herself, biting the inside of her cheek. She wouldn’t cry in front of him. Not again.

James’s shoulders slumped, and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the floor. “I know how it looks. I do. But I swear, Kate, I’m not that man anymore.”

“You swear?” she snapped, her voice sharp. “Forgive me if that doesn’t mean much right now.”

He flinched, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of guilt. But it was buried under layers of hurt and mistrust.

“I hate this too,” James said softly, stepping closer. “I hate leaving you. Leaving the kids. But I can’t just stop. This job—”

“This job is more important than us?” she interrupted, her voice shaking.

“No,” he said quickly, his hands lifting in a helpless gesture. “No, of course not. But we have a baby on the way, Kate. We have bills, a mortgage, college for Noah coming up sooner than we think—”

She shook her head, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t you dare use that as an excuse. Don’t act like this is for me. You’re the one who wanted this career, James. You’re the one who chose this.”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, exhaling sharply.

“I’m doing this for all of us,” he said finally, his voice quiet but resolute. “For you. For the kids. To make sure you’re taken care of.”

Kate laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You think that’s what I want? I wanted a husband I could trust. A husband who wouldn’t walk out the door and leave me wondering if he’d come back the same man.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, and she saw the way they hit him, his face tightening with guilt.

“I’m not him anymore,” he said again, stepping closer. “I swear to you, Kate. I’ll call you as soon as I land. I’ll FaceTime before I go to bed. Whatever you need, just tell me, and I’ll do it.”

She looked away, her chest aching with the weight of everything unsaid.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice flat. “Go.”

“Kate—”

“I said go, James,” she repeated, her voice sharper now. “You have a flight to catch.”

He hesitated, looking at her like he wanted to say more, to fix something that couldn’t be fixed in this moment.

Finally, he nodded, grabbing his suitcase and heading for the door.

The sound of it closing behind him echoed through the house, and Kate stood in the silence, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself.

She didn’t cry.

But she didn’t move for a long time, the weight of his absence pressing heavily against her chest.

══════════════════

The rain had finally stopped, leaving the world damp and gray as Kate sat at Leah’s kitchen table, staring down into her untouched cup of tea.

It had gone cold a while ago.

She hadn’t said the words yet.

Across from her, Leah watched quietly, her arms folded on the table, brows furrowed in that patient but knowing way only an older sister could manage. She didn’t rush her, didn’t push.

But the silence was stretching too long.

Kate exhaled shakily, fingers tightening around the mug.

“I’m pregnant.”

The words landed softly, but the impact was immediate. Leah’s eyes widened, her lips parting—but no sound came.

For a long beat, there was just that .

The truth sitting raw and exposed between them.

Then Leah blinked, leaning closer.

“Kate...oh my God.” She paused and then in a questioning tone added, “Congratulations?”

Kate let out a short, bitter laugh, tears already pricking at the edges of her eyes.

“I’m still trying to figure out how I feel about it.”

Leah’s expression softened instantly. She reached across the table, resting her hand gently over Kate’s.

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m here. Just...talk to me.”

Kate stared down at the mug again, her vision blurring as the ache in her chest grew heavier.

“I don’t know how to feel,” she whispered. “I am happy. I love this baby already. But, Leah...” Her voice cracked. “It’s like I’m split in two. Half of me is so excited. I keep imagining holding my baby for the first time, the way they’ll smell, those tiny fingers. I want this baby.”

Leah nodded slowly, gently squeezing her hand.

“And the other half?”

Kate’s breath hitched.

“The other half feels...trapped. Like this baby means I’ll never be free of James, no matter what he’s done. And I hate myself for even thinking that.”

Leah’s brows pulled together, her voice gentler now.

“You’re not a bad person for feeling that, Kate. You’re processing everything. It’s a lot . And James—” She hesitated, her voice hardening slightly. “James really hurt you. Of course you’re conflicted.”

Kate shook her head, tears finally spilling down her cheeks.

“I still love him,” she said in a whisper. “I hate that I do. But I still love him.” Her voice cracked, and a hot flush burned up her neck, spreading to her cheeks as the words tumbled out—mortifying to even admit to herself, let alone say out loud. “He’s there for every appointment, every little thing. It’s like he’s trying so hard to make this right, but I can’t stop seeing—”

She broke off, pressing her hand hard against her chest like she could push the pain back down, blinking rapidly as the tears blurred her vision.

Leah’s face darkened with quiet understanding.

“You can’t stop seeing him with her.”

Kate nodded, biting her lip, her voice barely a whisper.

Leah’s hand tightened over hers, but she didn’t rush in with platitudes. Didn’t try to fix it.

Kate’s mind drifted to how different this pregnancy felt compared to Noah’s. Back then, she’d been glowing with anticipation, full of love and hope as they had said their vows with a growing belly beneath her wedding dress. She’d thought they were building something unbreakable.

Their marriage had been just beginning, full of promise and possibility. Now, as she carried another life, it felt as though their marriage was unraveling, each thread fraying under the weight of what had been broken. The contrast was almost too much to bear—what had once been a celebration of their future now felt overshadowed by uncertainty and pain.

Finally, when Kate had calmed enough to breathe again, Leah spoke softly.

“So...what do you want? Right now. Not the future. Not what you think you should feel. What do you want today ?”

Kate blinked, the question catching her off guard.

What did she want?

The anger. The grief. The ache for the life they’d built.

It was all still there.

But beneath it—softer, quieter—was something else.

“I want to feel safe again,” she whispered. “I want to stop questioning if I was wrong to trust him. And I want this baby to feel loved. Not tangled in this mess I can’t untangle.”

Leah nodded slowly, the warmth in her eyes unwavering.

“Then that’s enough for now. One step at a time. You don’t have to decide the rest today, Kate. You just have to be honest with yourself. And you are —whether you see it or not.”

Kate exhaled shakily, leaning into her sister’s steady presence, her heart aching but just a little lighter.