Chapter 7 #2
Everything was piling up, and the weight of it all felt suffocating.
Weeks had passed since I was pushed down the stairs, and yet Colson still denied knowing who did it.
His anger flared every time I brought it up, a warning that I was treading dangerous waters.
But I couldn’t let it go, not when the box with my family name on it had vanished from the closet, as if it had never existed.
I’d searched everywhere, even risking a thorough investigation of our bedroom while he slept.
But the file cabinet near his desk, the drawers he kept locked with that tiny key hidden in a ceramic box—all yielded nothing.
The frustration gnawed at me, and more nights than I could count ended with tears soaking my pillow.
I must have cried myself to sleep again, because when I woke, the room was cloaked in darkness. A heavy silence hung in the air. My heart skipped a beat as I made out the silhouette in the corner, a figure sitting in a chair, watching me.
“Josephine, why did you leave?” Colson’s voice cut through the darkness, low and edged with something I couldn’t place.
The sound of ice clinking against glass sent a shiver down my spine. Since the yacht incident, he’d sworn off hard liquor, sticking to wine or champagne in moderation. But tonight, he’d turned back to whiskey or bourbon. The scent of it reached me, sharp and unmistakable as he approached.
I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “You embarrassed me, Colson,” I said, my voice thick with lingering emotion. “There were better ways to address the mistake I made.”
He was on me in an instant, crossing the distance to my bed so quickly it felt like he flew.
His face pressed against my cheek, his breath hot and laced with alcohol.
“With good reason,” he thundered. “How do you think AFC became what it is? By making mistakes? Don’t be stupid, Josephine. I demand perfection.”
His hands gripped my shoulders, the pressure enough to make me wince. I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves, a storm I couldn’t avoid. “It was unnecessary,” I said, my voice meek despite the anger boiling inside me. “You could’ve done it in private, after the meeting.”
“NO!” His shout echoed through the room, shaking me to my core. “It was on an official report. Every member in that room had a copy of it. I would’ve looked like an ass if I didn’t address it.”
I pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance between us. “It was one fucking mistake, Colson. One in all the time I’ve worked for you.”
He sat on the bed beside me, his expression hard, unyielding. “Not one, Josephine. There have been others, but I’ve corrected them. You’re distracted. Your focus is off. I need you to tell me why.”
The moonlight filtering through the curtains cast a silver glow across his face. His eyes narrowed, searching mine for answers. “I want to know who pushed me,” I said, my voice steady despite the fear gripping my heart.
Colson scrubbed a hand over his face, frustration etched in every line. “Is that what this is about? Or is there more? Are you still angry about our honeymoon? I don’t know what else I can do to apologize.”
I couldn’t tell him there was more—about my quest to find out why they bankrupted my grandfather and stole my legacy. That was a secret I had to keep, a truth I had to uncover on my own.
“I’ve forgiven you, but you’re lying to me, Colson,” I said, my voice trembling with the weight of my accusation. “I know you saw who pushed me. I could’ve died, and you’re protecting someone who might try it again.”
He rose from the bed, crossing to the window where his glass sat on the sill. He drained it in one long gulp, as if he needed the liquid courage to speak the truth. The ice cubes clinked as he set the empty glass down.
“Simone,” he said quietly, the word hanging in the air like a death sentence.
I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. “I knew it,” I whispered, the truth crashing over me like a wave.
Colson moved to me, wrapping his arms around my back. I wanted to push him away, to reject the comfort of a man who had lied to me, who had protected the person who hurt me. But he was too strong, his embrace a cage I couldn’t escape.
“She’s been punished,” he murmured into my hair, his voice a mix of regret and resolve.
“How?” I demanded, my voice cracking with emotion.
“I locked her trust fund,” he said, his tone cold and calculated. “She doesn’t have full control of her money until she’s thirty, or until I approve it. And I froze her credit cards.”
I sucked in a breath, the punishment feeling too light for the crime. “That’s it?”
He let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t understand how Simone works. She’s spoiled and petulant. I gave her what she wanted after Poppy died. I didn’t know how else to help my children through their grief.”
“Colson, you could’ve been there for them,” I said, my voice breaking with the pain of what I would never have. “They needed you, and I’ll never know that need because you took that away from me.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought of the child I would never have, the family I would never build.
Colson peppered kisses on my face, each one more desperate than the last until his mouth found mine.
As much as I didn’t want his comfort, as much as I resented him in that moment, I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him back.
And I hated myself for it.