16. The Confession
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE CONFESSION
Sophie
My phone rings as I click out of one of my many research tabs. I’ve been crunching numbers and trying to decide if this dream is just a dream or possible to turn a profit. I know I have Julian’s money to fall back on, but I want to do this right. Ever since I saw the empty storefront in Crestwood a couple of weeks ago, I’ve been dreaming about what a place like that could look like—and how it would feel to spend my mornings with Snickers and my days at the bookshop. I hadn’t heard back, of course, but I could find another space that worked.
Aside from market research, I’ve been trying to come up with a realistic number for the monthly running cost, which would entail inventory and merchandise, something I’ve never dealt with on this scale.
I want people to walk in and feel at home. I want it to be colorful and inclusive. I want people to stop and stare from the street, curious about what kinds of love stories await them inside. It’s more complicated than simply launching a business—I want people to feel how I feel when I’m lost in an amazing book. I intend to create a sanctuary where people can experience this, with vibrant, inviting displays and overflowing shelves full of colorful spines. I envision fresh flowers all around the store, as well as curated playlists and a cozy reading nook…
I glance at the unknown number flashing on my screen, and at the last minute, I answer.
“Hello?”
“Am I speaking to Sophie Ashford?”
I clear my throat. “This is she.”
“Hello, Sophie. You inquired a couple of weeks ago about the available retail space on Main Street, and I was wondering if you’re still interested in a viewing?”
My heart speeds up, and before I can think, I respond. “Hi! Yes! I’d love to view it.”
“Great! My name is Elisa Jacobs from Elmwood Properties. Before we schedule a viewing, I wanted to go over a few requirements for renting the space. First, we’ll need a copy of your business license or proof that it’s in process. Is that something you can provide?”
“Oh, yes,” I say quickly, making a mental note to look into it tonight.
“Perfect,” she continues. “We’ll also need proof of funds, typically your most recent bank statement or a letter of credit from your bank, so we can confirm you’re able to cover rent and any associated costs. Speaking of which, are you familiar with the lease terms, or would you like us to email them over to you? This is just protocol, of course.”
“I’d love an email,” I tell her, feeling shaky with adrenaline and excitement so potent that I almost want to stand up and jump around.
“No problem. Make sure you review them fully before the meeting. You’ll want to note the security deposit, which is equal to two months’ rent, and the liability insurance requirement—you’ll need that before signing.”
“Got it,” I say, scribbling notes furiously.
“Lastly, if you plan on making any modifications to the space, you’ll need to provide a detailed proposal for approval. We’ll go over those details after the viewing. Does that all sound manageable?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“Great. I’ll send you a follow-up email confirming our meeting time, but does this Friday work for you?”
I do the math in my head. Friday is five days away. It’s not enough time, but I’ll have to make it work.
“Yes, that works!”
“Great! Looking forward to seeing you then.”
“Thank you so much!” I say, hanging up and staring at my to-do list, which has just tripled in size.
When I set my phone down, I squeal and spin around in my office chair as I try to contain my excitement. I press my palms against the desk, steadying the rush of excitement flooding through me. It feels like the first time in years I’m chasing something that’s entirely mine. Not inherited. Not expected.
Just… mine.
Growing up, I was always meant to inherit something—a legacy, a title, a noble husband. But I never wanted any of it. I wanted to build something from scratch, to shape something with my hands and make it grow.
The bookstore feels like that. It’s fragile, yes, but it’s alive. A seed I’m planting by myself.
I have a lot of work ahead of me, but if I’m looking at the numbers in front of me correctly… I should be able to turn a profit right away.
It’s just going to take a little bit of creativity and fundraising.
I can do this.
Grinning, I stand up from my seat and take the stairs down to the kitchen. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to need my energy, so a cup of tea is in order.
I’m halfway down the stairs when my phone buzzes again, but this time, the number on the screen isn’t unfamiliar.
It’s my mother.
My fingers hover over the decline button, but guilt wins out. Sighing, I accept the call.
“Mum?”
“Darling,” she greets, clipped and formal as always. “It’s been too long since I’ve heard from you.”
Two weeks isn’t too long, I think but don’t say. I’d stopped explaining myself years ago, but her voice always manages to stir something restless in me.
“I’ve been busy,” I offer, climbing the last few steps and leaning against the railing. “How are things?”
“Busy, as well. I just had lunch with the Hastings and, naturally, they asked about you. I had to make excuses for why you weren’t at the gala last weekend. You know, Sophie, people notice when you’re absent.”
There it is. The reminder of the life I left behind—the curated image, the endless social events, the suffocating expectations I’d fought so hard to escape.
“I live in California now, Mum,” I say, a hint of steel in my voice. “People are going to have to get used to my absence.”
A pause. Then, “And Julian?”
“Julian’s wonderful.”
And we’re currently entertaining thoughts about one of his oldest friends.
I don’t add that part.
“Well,” she sighs, and I picture her swirling a glass of wine in her hand, peering down at the world from the balcony of her pristine country estate. “I hope you two aren’t getting too comfortable. You’re still young. Don’t get complacent. Opportunities don’t last forever, Sophie. Once this little travel bug ends, I fully expect the two of you to return to London. And I truly hope Julian is happy, so far from his family. It would be a shame if he no longer found your restless energy adorable.”
My jaw clenches. It’s a thinly veiled nudge, one she’s been repeating since I moved abroad. She doesn’t say it outright, but I know what she means. Julian could leave. You could end up alone. She’s been predicting the downfall of my marriage since the day I told her we were moving, and she’s somehow gotten it in her head that I’m at fault for dragging us away from that life.
“I’m not complacent, Mum. I’m building something here. A bookstore, actually.”
The silence that follows is heavy.
“A bookstore?” Her tone is pure disbelief, like I’d just announced I’d run away to join the circus.
“Yes. I’m looking at a space this week,” I say, forcing my voice to stay light. “I’m really excited about it.”
“I see. And will this… bookstore pay the mortgage? Or is that still Julian’s responsibility?”
“Mum.” My voice drops, but the warning is clear.
“I’m just asking, Sophie. You know I want the best for you. You were raised for a certain life?—”
“I know exactly what I was raised for,” I cut in, unable to hide the sharpness in my tone. The sound of the front door opening is a perfect distraction. “Actually, Mum, Julian just got home. I need to go. I’ll call you soon.”
“Give the viscount my regards,” she says, hanging up before I get a chance to gag at her use of his formal title.
Pocketing my phone, I take a deep breath. I won’t let her bring this exciting moment down. I’ve worked too hard to pull away from that life to let her drag the happiness from me.
The bookstore.
This Friday.
That is exciting, and I can’t wait to tell Julian.
Walking into the kitchen, I start my tea. I’m just stacking biscuits on the rim of my mug when he saunters into the kitchen, looking fresh and showered from his time at the gym.
“Hi!” I tell him, setting my mug and biscuits down as I bounce from foot to foot. “You’ll never guess who called me! Well, besides my mum, and that conversation went about as well as a fox in a henhouse.”
His eyes slowly lift to mine, and my smile drops off my face. He seems distracted.
And… guilty.
“Who?” he asks, standing on the other side of the kitchen. “I mean, besides your mum, who I’m sure still believes you seduced me into abandoning centuries of noble lineage for overpriced avocado toast and sunshine.”
I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. He always comes over and gives me a kiss, no matter what. So why is he still all the way on the other side of the kitchen?
My brows knit together as I shake my head. “Oh, it was just—” I pause, wanting to make sure he’s okay first. “Is everything all right?”
He smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “Yes, everything’s fine. What were you going to tell me?”
As if a spark reignites the energy inside of me, I bounce as I clap my hands once. “The letting agency for that retail space in town. They’ve offered to show it to me, and they asked for paperwork… that’s a good sign, right?”
His smile widens. “That’s fantastic news, Soph.”
“I mean, now I have to actually file for a business license, show proof of funds, get insurance, and proposals for renovations… all before Friday…”
He arches a brow. “How much do you need?”
I hold a hand up. “I don’t need anything. I have an idea for fundraising.”
His face softens. “Okay. But you know I’m always willing to help you, right?”
Walking over to him, I wrap my arms around his neck. “I know. But I have to do this on my own.”
“I understand,” he murmurs, placing his hands on my arms and kissing the inside of my elbow with a delicate kiss. “Can I help with anything?”
“I don’t think so. It’ll be a busy five days, though.” Pulling my head back a bit, I study his expression, which still seems off. My eyes flick between his bright blue ones, trying to decipher why he seems to be in a funk. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He doesn’t immediately say yes, and my skin prickles. Pulling away slowly, I look up at his face.
“Julian?” I ask when he doesn’t answer.
“I don’t know,” he says, his voice thick. “I feel like I’m fraying at the seams,” he says, running a hand down his face.
“How so?” I ask, titling my head and reaching out for one of his hands. When I begin massaging it, he groans and lets his head fall back.
“I saw Kai at the gym.”
I pause my ministrations. “Oh? How is he?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
“We sort of got into an argument… or… I don’t even know what happened, to be honest.”
The prickling feeling works down my spine as I process his words. Or lack thereof. I’d have to be blind not to see the way my husband looks at Kai, or the way Kai looks back at him. Their history is long and complicated—and I know the kiss they shared years ago didn’t help matters last night.
I knew that Julian was provoking him last night in nearly every instance, trying to establish his dominance. He’d never done that before when I’d been with another man, so I was just as surprised as Kai.
“What sort of argument?” I ask Julian, my voice steady, though my heart races with the possibilities unfolding before me. I drop his hand and take a step back, sensing the seriousness in his expression.
Julian rubs the back of his neck with his hand, and my stomach sinks.
“Uh… he put his hand around my throat, and then I pressed him against the lockers.”
I’m quiet, waiting for him to continue, but instead he just looks at me hesitantly.
“That’s it?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
“Yes. No. Well, that’s all that involved Kai. But…” He looks down at the ground. “I was sort of stirred up, so I had to relieve myself in the shower.”
My lips twitch with the threat of a smile. “Julian, you’ve wanked to Kai before. It’s normal to fantasize about someone other than me, and it doesn’t bother me.”
He nods once, looking up at me. “No, I know. This time just felt different. And I wanted to tell you. It felt… wrong.”
As I process his words, I feel many different emotions. There’s a pang of discomfort at the thought of Julian’s complicated feelings for Kai—a discomfort that lingers, but doesn’t quite evolve into jealousy. It’s not a terrible feeling… but more like growing pains. And as the seconds tick by, it morphs into something that almost feels like curiosity.
The tension between them has always been palpable, even before I met Kai. For years, I brushed it off as old wounds or maybe unresolved anger whenever he spoke about his ex-best friend. But now, after last night… perhaps it was an opening to something I hadn’t fully allowed myself to consider until now.
I should feel possessive or betrayed, perhaps even angry, despite never feeling those things with Julian. I’ve never been the jealous type. Instead, there’s a strange clarity weaving through my racing thoughts—a sort of quiet understanding that surprises me. Julian’s feelings for Kai, no matter how complex, don’t endanger our bond—in fact, they could enrich it.
If we let it…
A spark of warmth blooms inside of me.
What if this isn’t something to fear? What if it’s an opportunity, one that could deepen the bond we all share? I think about Kai, his sharp wit, the vulnerability he hides under his tough exterior, the way he looked at me last night, the soft way he touched me…
There’s a tenderness for Julian there, too, one I hadn’t fully contemplated until now.
It’s a surprising thought, but one that settles firmly into place.
Perhaps this isn’t a threat to my marriage. Perhaps it’s the start of something new, something none of us expected, but all of us could grow to want.
The prickling tension along my spine eases, replaced by a cautious excitement.
“How did it feel wrong? Why was this time different?”
He shrugs. “Because we’ve been intimate with him. Last night… it wasn’t supposed to happen. This… him and me… it feels like I’m emotionally cheating, Sophie.”
My chest aches, but not from betrayal.
From empathy.
“You think I’d think you were emotionally cheating?” I ask gently. He nods, and he looks so sheepish that I can’t help but smile. I step closer so that we’re touching, and I take both of his hands in mine. “First of all, I’d be the biggest hypocrite of all if I thought that, considering…” I trail off.
He huffs a laugh. “Yes, well, we spent weeks going over our limits and the rules. I’m kind of free-falling here, you know?”
I narrow my eyes, smirking. “You want permission? Fine. Let’s talk about it now, so if there’s ever a time you’d like to pursue things with Kai, you won’t feel so guilty.”
His mouth opens and closes. “I— That’s not what I?—”
I squeeze his hands. “I know. You’re a good man, Julian Ashford. It’s why I married you. If I thought for one second that Kai would come between us, I’d say so.”
He studies me for a few seconds. “You don’t think he’d come between us?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t. I’m not really sure what’s happening with us, but if you’d like to pursue things with him solo, I’d be okay with that.” My smile grows. “In fact, I really like the idea of watching the two of you together. Is there such a thing as a hot-husband?”
His expression relaxes. The tension in his shoulders melts into something softer.
Relief.
Gratitude.
His lips twitch into the beginnings of a smile, and I realize in this moment just how much he’s been carrying this weight alone. The idea of exploring his feelings for Kai, of daring to step into the uncharted space we’re now tiptoeing through together, has obviously been bothering him. But now? Now, we’re here, together, unraveling it piece by piece.
“You mean that?” Julian asks, his voice hesitant but laced with hope.
I nod, my fingers tightening around his. “I do. Look, this… it’s not exactly traditional, I know. But when have we ever done things the traditional way? What I feel for you doesn’t shrink because of Kai. And what you might feel for him? It doesn’t take away from us. I think we’re stronger than that.”
He stares at me for a moment, his gaze searching mine as though he’s trying to figure out where my boundaries truly lie—or if they even exist in the way he feared.
“And what about you?” he asks, his voice quieter now. “How do you feel about Kai?”
The question sends an unexpected ripple of warmth through me.
“I don’t know,” I admit, being fully open and transparent. “But I like him. And I like the way he cares about you, and the way he talks about you. It’s hard not to feel drawn to him because of that. I sort of feel like we share something, you know?”
Julian tilts his head, considering my words. “So, you’re saying…”
“I’m saying,” I interrupt, grinning, “that maybe this doesn’t have to be a problem. Maybe it could be something beautiful.”
His brow furrows slightly, but there’s a light in his eyes now, a flicker of understanding, of intrigue.
“You think we could make this work? All three of us?”
I shrug, though my smile doesn’t falter. “We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. We’d have to talk to Kai. And…” I pause for a beat, my gaze softening as I search his face. “We’d have to make sure you’re okay, too.”
His expression falters—just for a second—but I catch it. The hesitation. The old wounds I know are still there, even if he doesn’t say it outright.
“I know you, Julian,” I continue gently. “I know there’s history there, and I don’t want to ignore that. This isn’t just about attraction—it’s about trust. And if there’s any hurt left between you and Kai, we need to talk about it before we even think about moving forward. Otherwise, it’s not fair to any of us.”
Julian exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not wrong,” he admits after a moment. “There’s a lot I haven’t let go of. And I don’t want to mess this up before it even begins.”
I reach for his hand, squeezing it lightly. “Then we take it slow. We figure it out together. But only if it’s what we all want—and if we’re all ready.”
His lips quirk in a small, thoughtful smile. “You always know how to keep me in check.”
I smirk. “Someone has to.”
Julian exhales a laugh, shaking his head, but there’s a brightness in him now that wasn’t there before.For a long moment, he just looks at me, like he’s trying to see if I really mean it—if this could truly be as simple as I’m making it sound. I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head, his instinct to analyze, to find the cracks in an idea before it even has the chance to exist.
But instead of voicing another doubt, he sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It is simple,” I tease. “You’re overthinking it. Just… let it be what it’s going to be. Let’s talk to him. See how he feels. No pressure, no expectations. Just honesty.”
For the first time all night, Julian smiles—really smiles. He bends down, his face an inch from mine.
“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice laced with affection.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I whisper back. “We deserve each other. And maybe, just maybe, we deserve him too. Maybe there’s enough of whatever we have to go around.”
“Okay,” he says, his nose brushing against mine. “What does this mean, then? We’ve never done this. It’s only ever been a one-time thing with other men.”
I shrug. “We should talk to Kai. But… I think a blanket permission to be with him—with the caveat that we communicate about it—is a good first step. If he wants to, that is.”
Julian nods, resting his forehead against my own. “You’re perfect. Is it bad that I want to fuck you on top of this gorgeous marble?”
I laugh. “I’m surprised we haven’t already. We’ve christened so many other places in the house…”
“Oh, fuck. You have things to do,” he murmurs, kissing me on the cheek and stepping back.
I groan. “I do. But maybe?—”
Julian waves me off. “Go on, then. Your tea’s getting cold. I’ll make us dinner, okay?”
My lips quirk to the side. “Okay. I love you.”
He winks, looking a hundred times more relaxed now that we talked. “I love you more, Soph.”