21. Genevieve
Chapter twenty-one
Genevieve
Ismoothed the cream fabric down my front for the third time, fingers trembling slightly as I forced myself to sit straighter in the conference chair. The turtleneck I decided to wear this morning was too tight. Or maybe it was just the memory of Reid’s hands around my throat.
My reflection in the dark glass across the room stared back at me like a stranger. High ponytail updo, curled just enough to seem effortless. Pencil skirt, cinched too perfectly at the waist.
My look was put-together, polished and unbothered.
But it was all a lie. Despite my attempts to seem composed, to go about the day normally… I could still feel his hands on me.
The weight of them on my hips. The rasp of his voice at my throat. The way his mouth had mapped every inch of me like I still belonged to him—
God.
I blinked hard and swallowed, pressing my knees together beneath the table.
My brain tried to shift focus to my son. His little league tournament was in just a few hours. I should’ve been thinking about that.
I had packed his bag earlier. Made sure he had his little cleats, his knee pads, an extra snack and his juice box for their frequent snack breaks, and his water bottle.
I double, triple checked just to make sure I didn’t miss anything.
But in reality, it was to occupy my racing mind.
Because all I could think was how much I’d betrayed the only person who had ever looked at me and seen everything he needed to love…
All I could think about was the sudden urge to fix things between him and me. To earn his forgiveness.
But I forced the thoughts down. Earning his forgiveness would force me to face the mistakes I’d made and come to terms with the feelings I’d never lost, exposing the lies I kept hidden.
You have to hold it together.
I repeated the mantra in my head, the only thing that could keep me from breaking apart entirely.
Last night on that balcony, I’d felt more alive than I had in years. More broken too. Because Reid hadn’t punished me… he’d just shown me exactly what I’d lost when I didn’t choose him.
You have to hold it together.
For Eugene. Your family. What little remains of the life I tried to choose.
…But at what cost?
“Morning.” The voice abruptly cut through my thoughts.
I looked up quickly to see Gregory in the door frame. I cleared my throat. “Good morning,” I said gently. “How were your meetings this morning?”
He entered the office fully, running a stressed hand through his hair.
“Got my ass handed to me again, but what else is new?” he grumbled, and I gave a sad smile as he shook his head.
“Anyway, I should be finishing up my day soon enough,” he said, smoothing down his tie even though it wasn’t crooked.
“Thought we could go to dinner after the tournament.”
I almost furrowed my brows. Tournament? Dinner? Now?
He hadn’t gone to a game in what seemed like months. Barely knew Eugene’s coach’s name. And now he was planning reservations? He… he remembered it was tonight?
I tried to wrap my head around it. Gregory wanted to have dinner. With me. With Eugene. Like we were a family that still worked while he paraded Cheryl on his arm as if his actual family was just a second thought?
“I figured we could grab something simple,” he added. “Nothing too formal. Just you, me… Eugene.”
My stomach flipped, but I didn’t let it show as I gave another forced smile.
Did I want Gregory to suddenly show up for our son? Of course I did. Eugene would be so excited to have both of us there cheering him on.
“Sure,” I said, voice tight. “That sounds nice.” The words came out perfectly as I held my grin, letting him kiss me on the cheek before he stepped back out of the door. And when I was out of his sight, my shoulders dropped, the smile on my face along with it.
I should be happy. Eugene would be thrilled to have his father cheering on the sidelines tonight.
I just couldn’t stop thinking about someone else I wanted there.
The seatbelt clicked into place with a soft snap, but Eugene was still squirming in his booster seat, one hand tugging at the hem of my cardigan.
I didn’t have much time to change into something more comfortable, too busy trying to keep my interaction with his new babysitter minimal.
I still wasn’t on board with Reid forcing himself into all these areas of my life, but I bit my tongue for the sake of my sanity.
“Mommy,” Eugene said, kicking his tiny sneakers against the seat. “Is Dad still coming?”
I reached down to fix the strap across his chest, smoothing the buckle. “He said he’d try, Lovebug,” I said, my voice gentle. “But he might be stuck at work.”
It was a soft, familiar lie I’d given time and time again. Because the game was starting in less than fifteen minutes, and I hadn’t heard a word from Gregory.
When I returned to the driver’s seat, Eugene was content again, distracted by his soccer ball that he rolled around in his lap. The drive felt longer this time, and unfortunately, my mind never did stop spiraling.
All I could see was the betrayal in his eyes, the way he looked at me when he asked the question that repeated over and over in my mind.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant with him?”
And now here we were. Driving to Eugene’s game all alone. Me in the front seat, pretending not to fall apart. Him in the back, asking for a man who didn’t care enough to show up…
When we arrived, the field was buzzing, parents in lawn chairs, toddlers in cleats kicking balls too big for them, and Coach Dan already yelling over the chaos. I stepped out, rounding the car to unbuckle Eugene, who was craning his neck to look through the windows.
His small fingers grabbed mine as I lifted him down.
He ran ahead a few steps, a small smile gracing my lips as he waved to one of his little teammates.
All the while Coach Dan tried to wrangle them along across the field, a clipboard in one hand, holding a sniffling little girl in the other who was wiping her eyes as he consoled her the best he could.
I scanned the crowd, for maybe a sign that Gregory had actually shown up… but of course he wasn’t here. I sat alone in one of the folding chairs, blowing Eugene a kiss as he looked at me in the crowd. His eyes continued roaming the sea of parents as the coach began explaining the game plan.
Then Eugene’s eyes grew brighter, raising his hand as he waved it furiously. I looked in the direction he was waving, my eyes scanning the crowd until I saw him.
Reid. Dark jacket over his shoulders, polo shirt framing him perfectly, winking back as he made his way through the crowd, and in my direction. My heart pulsed in my chest the closer he got.
Ignoring the protests of Coach Dan, Eugene took off toward Reid.
“Uncle Reid!” he yelled out. Reid crouched, arms opening to catch him as parents nearby awwed. “Coach said I’m the goalie today!”
“Goalie?” his dark voice sounded, enough to make my skin feel hot. “You better crush them, bud. I mean it. No mercy, got it?”
Eugene lit up, catching his little fist in his hand. “NO MERCY!” He let out an animalistic growl, though it sounded more adorable than scary.
Ruffling his hair, Reid let his lips twitch into a small smirk. “That’s the spirit.”
Coach Dan called again, and Eugene took off without hesitation, racing back to the field. I stayed quiet, looking away as Reid approached, sitting beside me without uttering a single word.
We watched the chaos commence, children tripping over one another, the parents laughing along the sidelines as they cheered, the coach doing his best to keep his professional composure. But that wasn’t my focus.
I glanced over to him, my eyes moving back as I realized he was fixated on the game, the silence between us filled with a million things unsaid.
Of the other night, of the lies still lingering on my tongue and memories I wanted to forget but never could.
My fingers twisted together nervously in my lap, distracting my thoughts.
“You… didn’t have to come,” I whispered.
For a moment he didn’t say anything.
“I know,” he replied.
“I thought…” I swallowed, eyes tracing Eugene’s tiny frame as he darted across the grass. “Greg said he’d try to make it today.”
Reid didn’t gloat the fact that my fiancé hadn’t shown. Instead his voice softened. “He’s not coming, Vieve.”
I nodded gently. “I know.”
Reid rested an elbow on his knee, leaning forward slightly, his jaw tight, watching Eugene stumble as he blocked the adorable but sad attempt by one of the kids on the other team to kick it into the net. The slightest smirk tugged at the corner of Reid’s mouth as Coach Dan blew the whistle.
“He was so excited when he saw you…” I murmured, not knowing why I felt the need to fill the silence. “Would’ve thought he was waiting for you.”
Reid’s eyes didn’t leave the field as he stayed silent, but I could see the gears turning in his mind. I forced my gaze away, blinking hard as the ache spread warm and awful inside of me.
“I’m sure Greg was caught up with something at the office…”
“You don’t have to make excuses for him every time,” he muttered. “He would have been here if he wanted to be.”
Another burst of cheering erupted as Eugene blocked the goal, catching the ball in his little arms. He looked over to the lawn chairs as the coach blew the whistle again. It looked like he was looking at the both of us, but I knew his eyes were locked onto the man beside me.
“Uncle Reid! Did you see?” he called.
Reid lifted a hand, giving him a thumbs-up and a small nod of approval that shouldn’t have made my heart ache the way it did.
I folded my hands in my lap to keep them from shaking as they continued. “You’re… good with him,” I said softly. “Better than most people are.”
He finally glanced at me, my eyes unfortunately already locked onto his. “You say that like it’s surprising.”
I looked down at my hands, twisting the small engagement ring I seemed to have forgotten all about. Not like I wore it often… but these days I found myself doing it more and more.
“I mean… it is. At least for me…”
He let out a low breath. “I guess that explains why telling me about him didn’t matter.”
“Reid, I didn’t say that,” I muttered. “Telling you I had a kid in the middle of all the chaos… it wasn’t practical…”
“Practical…” he repeated, his jaw clenching. “Right… Letting me think I meant nothing was probably the most practical for you too.”
“It wasn’t. I just…” My throat tightened. I breathed out slowly. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”
It was the closest thing to the truth I could say without unraveling. Reid didn’t look away from the field, but something in him stilled. “So you think I would hurt him?” he said quietly.
I let out a tired sigh. “No,” I whispered.
No matter his motives—vengeance, resentment, obsession, whatever storm he was dragging me into—a part of me knew he would never intentionally hurt Eugene. But the truth of him being here still hovered. He was going to tear our lives apart anyway.
And my son was in the center of it.
“I know you won’t hurt him… but I’m afraid,” I said softly, voice barely audible.
“I’m afraid of what happens if you stay…
and I’m afraid of what happens if you don’t.
He’s already getting attached to you. But he doesn’t know what you came back for.
And when you finish what you came here to do… he’ll be caught in the middle of it.”
His eyes locked onto mine. He knew how drastic this all would be if he actually did stay, and carved himself back into this life I’d tried to keep together. And the longer he looked at me, the more the question from last night burned in my mind. What exactly did Reid know?
“Genevieve…”
“You being here…” My voice shook. “It changes things. It will change things more than you know…”
He didn’t respond, his eyes staying locked onto me.
I pushed further. “You came back wanting to burn all of this down. I get that,” I whispered. “You want revenge. You want… whatever you think you’re owed.” My hands trembled, but I kept going. “But showing up here? Being part of this? Being part of him… That’s not revenge, Reid.”
A shadow flickered in his expression.
“If you stay,” I breathed, “everything we’ve built, everything he knows… it could fall apart.”
My voice thinned. Because that wasn’t the whole truth. Not even close. What I couldn’t say aloud was that I would be the one to fall apart first. I could feel it already. I was slipping.
Back into the place I’d sworn I’d never touch again and toward a man I’d betrayed and broken. A man whose forgiveness I didn’t deserve and yet somehow hungered for like the air I needed to breathe. If he stayed, it wouldn’t just be my life unraveling.
It would be me.
He watched me quietly, his eyes calculated and observant. “If it falls apart,” he said softly, “maybe it wasn’t meant to hold in the first place.”