36. Genevieve
Chapter thirty-six
Genevieve
Parents cheered, kids shouted, the whistle blew, and Eugene, my sweet, brilliant boy, was sprinting down the field with all the determination his tiny legs could muster.
I forced a smile when he glanced back at me, waving proudly before he toppled over his two feet, quickly getting up and running after the ball once again.
“Careful, Lovebug!” I yelled out on instinct, knowing he probably wouldn’t listen.
I clapped with the other parents when they finally scored a goal, smiling like everything was normal.
Ignoring the fact that I had been living in my own personal hell this past month. My stomach was twisting with nausea and fear every second I tried to breathe while the man I loved sat in a concrete box somewhere, staring at the same four walls.
My fingers toyed with my engagement ring, my mind drifting elsewhere as the game went on. It was a gorgeous day today. Spring weather was coming in beautifully, but with everything going on, I could barely enjoy it.
Someone sat down comfortably beside me. I didn’t turn at first, not until he spoke, pulling me straight out of my thoughts.
“You’re holding up better than I expected.”
My heart skipped a beat as I finally turned to look at him. It was Alexander, dressed in pressed slacks and an open-collar shirt, sunglasses pushed into his hair, looking painfully out of place among the lawn chair bleachers set up, juice-boxes and toddlers covered in grass stains.
I hadn’t seen him since the day the Feds took Reid.
Turning back to the kids, I let out a soft sigh. “If that’s what you’d call this… sure,” I murmured. He offered the faintest nod of acknowledgement as quiet settled over us. “I thought you’d be back in California,” I said after a moment. “There’s nothing left of Newman Trust worth staying for.”
A humorless laugh left him. “No, not much… but my boss is in FBI custody.” His shoulder lifted in a faint shrug. “Can’t exactly abandon ship just yet.”
My heart raced at just the mention of him. I glanced over my shoulder to see Alexander already looking at me, his gaze locking mine in place.
“How…” My voice faltered, the word breaking before it even formed. I swallowed, trying again. “How is Reid?”
Alexander’s jaw clenched. “He’s doing… just as well as someone thrown into a federal holding facility can be doing.”
My stomach twisted. That wasn’t an answer. Or maybe it was… just not one I wanted to hear.
“…Why are you here, Alex?” I asked quietly.
He didn’t answer right away. His gaze drifted to the field where Eugene was running, laughing and blissfully unaware.
“Cara was worried about you and Eugene. Gave me a nudge to check in. But before I did, I realized your accounts were frozen. Thought it was a part of the raid, but it happened only a few days ago. To add to it, news of Newman Trust collapsing is being suppressed, your name being quietly redacted from every major press release in the last few months.” My heartbeat stumbled.
“I came to make sure you were still alive and well.”
A chill crawled up my spine. “You make it sound like someone wants me gone…” Alexander stayed quiet. I pressed again, voice tighter, “You think Raymond did it?”
“I’m not saying he did,” he answered carefully. “But he cares about appearances. And someone in the Newman circle is paying a hell of a lot of money to silence the media frenzy… and moving funds around that shouldn’t exist right now.”
My throat went dry. “I—I would have noticed if my accounts were locked,” I said, but it sounded weak even to me.
Alexander narrowed his eyes at me. “Would you?” he asked softly. “You’re not paying bills. Not using your cards. Not leaving the house without someone knowing. And Raymond controls Newman IT.”
Another shiver ran straight down my spine.
Right.
Of course I wouldn’t know.
Because I hadn’t been living for myself, I’d been coasting. Playing my part, smiling when needed. And now I was being contained like a public relations risk, not a fiancée or a mother or a woman whose world collapsed in front of her.
Alexander didn’t offer me any comfort as we turned back to the field. I swallowed hard. “Do you… know where he is?”
He didn’t move or say anything, the gears in his mind turning, debating whether he should tell me before he finally answered, “Yes.”
Hope flared in my chest so fast it almost hurt. But it barely had time to form before he added, just as quickly—
“No.” Already answering my unspoken question.
“Alexander, I need to see him,” I whispered, and it wasn’t even a request. It was a result of yearning for the man I so desperately loved.
That made him sigh. “Genevieve,” he said slowly, “it’s not that simple.”
“Please.”
He exhaled sharply through his nose, pinching the bridge of it. “He doesn’t want to see anyone.”
“I’m not anyone,” I answered without hesitation.
Alexander cursed under his breath, raking a hand through his hair, a crack in the composure he always kept airtight. “He doesn’t want to see you.”
The words gutted me. For a split second everything around me felt hollow. I could still see his face in my mind. The way he watched me go after him like it was the last time I’d see him. The way his eyes lingered on mine till the very last second when those elevator doors closed.
“He didn’t say that,” I replied quickly, too instinctively. “He couldn’t have.”
“Genevieve—”
“Alex, I need to see him.”
“He’s not just down at a local NYPD holding cell,” Alexander said, jaw tightening. “Getting to him is complicated.”
“And I’m sure moving five hundred million dollars was just a walk in the park for you then?”
He quickly glanced around before his eyes narrowed on me. “Lower your voice.”
“And I will. If you can take me to see him.”
“I don’t know how he deals with you,” he muttered.
I didn’t reply. I was still holding myself together by threads, bracing for the worst, and he must have seen it alongside the desperation and determination burning under my skin.
He looked at me for a long moment, assessing, calculating, and maybe, underneath it, pitying me. I couldn’t say I cared much at that moment. I only cared about one thing.
Finally, with a resigned exhale, he spoke: “Fine… I’ll pull some strings.”
Coming home from Eugene’s soccer game, I felt relieved and hesitant all at the same time.
I wasn’t sure if the new “happy couple” would be home.
Could I even call them that? It wasn’t like there was a formal announcement that I’d become the mistress in the last month, but I could feel Cheryl slipping my spot in this family from under me.
From facing Raymond’s scrutiny to Reid being in prison to Gregory barely giving me or Eugene the time of day, I felt like an outsider in my own home.
Opening the door, I directed a distracted Eugene inside as his eyes stayed locked onto a butterfly fluttering around nearby.
“Inside, Lovebug, come on,” I coaxed him gently, and he huffed, hopping inside recklessly before he let go of my hands, sprinting in.
“GRANDMA!”
My eyes snapped up to see Jamie rolling in on a wheelchair, her smile lighting up the room as my son threw himself into her embrace carelessly.
“Eugene! Careful!” I said, my heart skipping a beat.
Jamie laughed. “Oh, sweetheart, you got so big!” she gasped, peppering kisses over his cheek as he climbed all over her like she was a jungle gym.
“You have wheels?” he whispered in awe. “Awesome.” He flipped himself halfway upside down over her arm. “Can I have a ride?”
“Well—” Jamie began, already smitten.
“You cannot take your grandmother for a ride,” I cut in, grabbing him by the shirt like a feral cat and setting him upright.
He turned to her instantly. “Can I, Grandma?”
“I’ll think about it. But first: bath time,” she instructed, and he sprinted off in excitement.
I looked over at Jamie, who was already smiling up at me. “You’re going to spoil him to death,” I muttered, crouching low as I pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her frail arms around me, pulling me tight.
“Like you don’t do that already,” she chuckled, and I could only let out a soft smile as I rested my head on her shoulder. Her hand ran down my back, caressing me gently as I clung to her.
“I’m so happy you’re back,” I couldn’t help but breathe out.
“I’m right here, sweetheart.”
The hug lingered longer than it probably needed to, and when I pulled away, Jamie’s hands cupped my cheeks, her soft fingers wiping away the tears I didn’t even realize had fallen. “Come, let’s talk.”
We made our way up the stairs, me gradually helping her with each step, and she lingered nearby as I gave Eugene a quick bath. In his room, I dressed him in his PJs, my mind elsewhere as I rubbed his little elbows and knees with lotion. When I finished, he darted over to his toy corner.
It was silent for a moment, my hands smoothing the non-existent wrinkles in Eugene’s blanket on my lap as I sat at the end of the bed. “Reid’s in federal custody…” I murmured, low, and she hummed in acknowledgement.
“…Have you heard from him?” she asked gently, and I shook my head.
“Not since the FBI raid. I spoke to Alexander today… He told me he’d pull some strings, get me a visit. But—” My throat tightened. “He said Reid doesn’t want to see me.”
Jamie didn’t react right away. Her eyes drifted toward Eugene, watching him “vroom” his cars along the carpet, unaware of the chaos that was his family.
“You know that isn’t true,” she said quietly.
The air punched out of me, another tear slipping before I could blink it back. “I don’t know anything anymore, Jamie.”
She reached for my trembling clenched hand and wrapped her cool fingers around it. I had no choice but to relax it, afraid I’d squeeze her too hard.
“Sweetheart… talk to me.”
I didn’t want to start, because if I did, everything would spill out.
But something inside me had broken open.
It was exhausted and terrified. “It’s all falling apart,” I whispered.
“Everything. Newman Trust. Our little family. Me and—” My voice faltered, my heart skipping a beat as Jamie rubbed the back of my hand, silent and reassuring.
I shrugged helplessly. “I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.
Don’t even know my place, where I stand.
The man I was supposed to marry has another woman in the house I tried so hard to make a home…
The man I love is in prison and I—” My voice snapped in half.
“I know I shouldn’t feel anything for him anymore. I know that. I know.”
It spilled out before I could stop it. Before I could take it back and pretend I meant anything else.
Jamie went utterly still. For one long second, she didn’t breathe.
Then she shook her head, eyes softening with the kind of ache only a woman who’s lived a lifetime can carry.
“Sweetheart…” Her thumb brushed my cheek, catching a tear. “You can’t help who you love.”
A helpless sound escaped me. “I tried.”
“I know you did.”
“I chose Gregory. I chose this family.” My chest tightened painfully.
“I ignored everything else. I buried my feelings. I buried him. I told myself being with him was a mistake, a forgotten memory, something I didn’t need.
I convinced myself it didn’t matter, pretending every single day that I was happy, that our family was whole, playing the part I thought was the safest.”
Jamie’s eyes glistened as she looked at me like she was seeing the truth for the first time, seeing herself at my age along with every choice she ever regretted staring back at her through me.
“And yet,” she whispered, “he still found you.”
My breath trembled. Shame and relief, all of it tangled together inside me.
“And you found him,” she added. “Over and over again, despite everything trying to pull you apart.” Her voice softened to something reverent. “That has to mean something.”
“Even if it does, nothing can come of it.” I shook my head. “He’s in prison. I’m engaged. What do I look like dragging the Newman name through more filth? Raymond even said it’s already tarnished enough as it is. We don’t need another scandal.”
Jamie’s eyes darkened, her gaze now angry but knowing. My words were echoes of a life she’d already lived.
She squeezed my hand gently. “Raymond has wounds older than you,” she said quietly, bitterness of the words lingering on her tongue. “Old wounds he let bleed into our lives now.”
I frowned. “Wounds?”
Her gaze drifted toward the hallway, and she went on, voice thin but steady: “We built this, this family, the Newman name… and I was convinced choosing what’s safe and easy was what was best.”
Her thumb brushed my knuckles. “But love,” she whispered, “love doesn’t disappear just because you’re convinced of something else. It festers. It grows. It returns… especially when you try to bury it alive.”
My heart stumbled. Jamie’s expression softened, but there was something hollow beneath it, something bruised she’d lived with for decades.
“When I married Raymond,” she murmured, “I was in love with someone else. And instead of him, I chose the safe route. The Newman name. The legacy. I chose what was expected of me.”
My breath froze, her gaze growing distant.
“I chose a family… my family over the man I fell in love with,” she began, tears welling in her eyes.
“And you know what?” She shrugged. “My family still ended up broken, still ended up fractured, because pieces of that relationship followed me back. And still… I would choose this again, a thousand times over. But for the rest of my life… I have to deal with the burden of not knowing what would’ve happened if I didn’t. ”
“Why?” I asked in the lingering silence, and she looked over to me. “Why did you stay?”
“Because I have you, because of Eugene, my sons, and everything else.”
“But you loved him.”
“And I still do. But that was my decision to make. And this decision… whatever it is, can only be yours to make.”
I had to make a decision… My hand landed on the growing baby in my stomach before I even realized it.
Jamie noticed instantly. Her eyes dropped quickly, softening before she whispered, “Oh, sweetheart…”
She reached for me just as the sob crawled up my throat. I folded into her frail arms, shaking, humiliating little sounds coming from me as I hid my face in her shoulder.
Across the room, I could still hear my son rolling his cars over the rug, oblivious to his mother collapsing three feet away.
“They’re all I have, Jamie…” I whispered, words strangled and raw. She held me tighter. “And I don’t—” I cried softly, “I don’t want to lose him. I can’t lose him again.”
“I know.”
And she did. Only a woman who’s lived through the same pain could understand, and she’d lived it. She’d chosen differently, still carrying the memory of the man she loved.
And she saw in me what she once was… and the choice she never got to make.