Chapter 25 #4
“Ceci. She’s truly moved on,” I say, my throat tightening around the words. “I ran into them earlier yesterday. They were in the elevator across the hall.”
I don’t give him details. I can’t. I’ve spent the entire day trying to scrape those images out of my head.
When I finally returned to the building—after hours wasted on a pier, staring at nothing—I kept my eyes down.
I didn’t look to either side. I didn’t let myself see anyone.
Not until I stepped into the elevator that would take me straight up to my penthouse.
“Fuck.”
A sound leaves my chest that almost passes for a laugh.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “That about covers it.”
“I wanted the world to end right there,” I admit quietly. “But then I remember everything I put her through... and maybe this is just the universe finally keeping score.”
Oliver exhales slowly. I force myself to look back at him.
“I didn’t want to say anything. Didn’t want to pour salt in an open wound and all that. But from what Felicity’s been telling me...” He trails off, then shakes his head. “Something like this didn’t exactly come out of nowhere. It’s for real between them.”
He studies my face for a beat.
“I’m sorry, man.”
I shake my head.
“I don’t know how, after that conversation last week, I still left room for hope.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “I saw the way she looked at him. The way she gave herself over without hesitation. Whatever she feels for him...”
My voice falters. I swallow hard. I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“I would never forgive her if she’d done to me what I did to her,” I say, staring at a folder on Oliver’s desk. “So why did I let myself believe she might forgive me? Why did I take that risk?”
Logically, I know all the answers. But there’s another part of me that never will. The part that feels my chest tighten until the air is forced from my lungs.
“Look on the bright side,” Oliver says. “Now you know. Now you can crush whatever hope you had left.”
I lift my eyes to his.
“If Felicity hadn’t taken you back... do you really think you could love someone else? The way you love her?”
Oliver looks away. That’s all the answer I need.
Crush hope, then. As if that were ever enough.
Cecily
I step onto the porch, pulling my coat tighter the moment I hear the car pull in.
Alicia gets out first and catches me in a quick hug as she passes. Then Colin steps out. He walks toward me, like every step demands something from him.
I texted him earlier today, asking if we could talk after he brought Alicia back from ballet and pizza. I hadn’t seen him since that morning in the lobby of Alexander’s building, where Colin had moved earlier this year. I left early, trying to avoid an uncomfortable situation.
I explained everything to Alexander. They hadn’t crossed paths in the building before, and with everything going on, it had honestly slipped my mind to mention it sooner.
But he understood. He woke with the sun just to walk me to my car. In the end, it didn’t matter. We ran into Colin anyway. At the worst possible moment.
The way Colin stood there, frozen, his water bottle at his feet like an afterthought. Like he was looking at a ghost. Then he just turned and walked away without saying a word. It was uncomfortable, but I get it.
Later, I realized the day before had marked one year since I confronted him with the truth. It’s strange how something that once took complete control of your body and mind can, with time, lose its hold on you.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask when he reaches the first step.
Colin clears his throat. “Can we talk out here?”
Without giving it much thought, I nod. I move toward the porch swing. He takes one of the rattan chairs, sitting the way someone does when they’re bracing for impact.
“You’re going to introduce him to our kids, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice stripped of emotion.
“Yes. I want to do it when Ethan’s in town, so they can meet him together. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it first.”
He nods once.
“How serious is it between you two?”
“As serious as it can be,” I answer without hesitation.
He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut, then swallows hard, lowering his head. When he lifts it again, his face is carefully blank.
“Do you really know him?” he asks without looking at me, his gaze fixed somewhere on the wall beyond my shoulder. “Do you trust him? All I know is his reputation... as the CEO of Santoro Marmo.”
“I do,” I say softly. “I’ve known him for a while now. I’ve met his family. I would never bring him into their lives if I had doubts.”
A painful grimace crosses his mouth. “I won’t pretend I’m happy for you. But I know you. You’ve always put Ethan and Alicia first. So I’m going to trust your judgment.”
“Always,” I whisper. “I love them more than anything.”
His gaze drops to his shoes.
“About the other day...”
He shakes his head. “No need.”
“I’m not going to talk about what happened,” I say evenly. “I just wanted you to know, you don’t have to worry about finding another place or anything like that. Alexander’s already moving out.”
He lifts his eyes to mine. “Was it that obvious it crossed my mind?”
I shrug lightly. “I couldn’t be sure. I just wanted you to know. Alicia really likes your place.”
He hesitates, then asks, “Is he going to live here?”
I shake my head. “No. That would be rushing too many things.” To keep everything clear, I add, “He’s moving into the house across the street.”
Colin lets out a short breath.
“So his reputation for never letting an opportunity pass really holds up,” he says, maybe not bitter. Just... weary, in a way I can’t quite name.
I don’t comment. I’m not sure what he means, and I don’t want to guess. He stands, and I rise too. He takes a few steps, then stops. Without turning, he says in a whisper,
“I hate the thought of you with him. It’s a physical, unbearable pain.”
“But I hope you’ll be happy, Cecily.”
He already makes me more than happy. Whole. Complete… in ways I never was before, or even thought I’d be allowed to feel again.
“I wish you the same.”
I’m about to head inside when I recognize the car pulling into the driveway, just as Colin reaches his own.
I smile and wait for him. But when he parks and steps out, something in his expression makes my stomach tighten.
“Why do you look like you’re about to bring me bad news?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light.
Is this about New Jersey? Did he see her again?
Mark rubs the back of his neck, his eyes locking onto mine with unease.
“I don’t have good news,” he says. “It’s about your father.”
My hand grips the top of the steps, cold stone doing nothing to calm the wild spike of my pulse.
“Tell me,” I whisper.
And when Mark begins to speak, I already know… I would have preferred he’d said nothing at all.