Chapter 31 #2
“I have never—” Lily’s voice cuts in, sharp, fractured, burning.
“Not once. I have never helped Jen. Not with leads, not with names, not with anything. Those damn emails are layered in lies and code and if you’d taken five seconds to talk to me, you’d have known that long before now.
And I never even met Benedict, let alone knew he was my father.
One photo in a hospital—hours old—shouldn’t have made you doubt me. ”
Her eyes burn into mine. “And the fact that you ever believed I could—”
She breaks off, chest heaving.
“That’s the part that hurts the most.”
Her gaze pins me, sharp enough that I almost flinch, and in that second I see every scar my doubt carved into her.
“I didn’t let them push you out because I stopped loving you.” The words tear free, raw, and unvarnished. “I let it happen because I was a fucking idiot who doubted you.”
The silence that follows is brutal.
She drops her head into her hands, folding forward like the weight finally became too much to carry. When she looks up again, her face is wrecked—hurt carved deep, and fury barely holding together.
“You stood there,” she says, voice shaking. “You let them gut me. You let Ciaran call me trash. Let him paint me with my mother’s sins.” Her eyes shine, tears clinging but unfallen. “And you”—her voice breaks, sharp and devastated—“you didn’t say a damn word.”
I don’t deflect. Don’t soften it. I take it straight to the chest.
“I know,” I say hoarsely. “And it was the worst decision I’ve ever made.”
I shift in my seat, slow, careful, like one wrong move might shatter her. “At the time, it felt like the only way. I knew if I spoke up—even with proof—they’d twist it. They’d call you my mistress. The girl I threw everything away for.” My jaw tightens. “Something forbidden. Something shameful.”
I shake my head, the regret crushing me from the inside out. “I couldn’t let that happen. Not to you.”
My chest aches with the truth of it, with all the damage I caused, despite trying to do the exact opposite.
“But I was wrong. I see that now,” I whisper. “Silence didn’t protect you. You didn’t need me lurking in the shadows while I hunted for answers. You needed me standing beside you, loud and proud.”
She tilts her head, eyes flashing, voice ice. “And instead, you left me to bleed alone.”
The venom in her voice cuts deep, but she’s right. I did nothing. I let her be exiled. And I’ll spend the rest of my life attempting to make it up to her if she’ll let me.
Her hands shake slightly, and I realise she’s holding something else back. She turns her head just enough for me to see the devastation on her face. “Do you remember Cora’s wedding?”
Of course I do. She was glowing and distant and… off.
“I was late. Two weeks late. I thought I was pregnant.”
The world comes to a crashing halt.
Everything in me goes still—lungs, heart, thought. It’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room, out of me. My stomach turns violently, bile rising as the horror of what she’s saying hits like a freight train I can’t step away from.
She nods slowly, watching me come apart, watching her words tear through me.
“After you left to head back to the hotel, I dragged Abbie into Cora’s kitchen, panicking.
I knew I couldn’t go to a doctor or buy a test myself.
I couldn’t risk anyone seeing and asking questions, not with who we were.
She sat with me in the bathroom and held my hand while I shook so hard I thought I’d fall apart, waiting for Logan to get the tests.
Six of them. All negative. And still, I sobbed like my heart had been ripped out.
Because for five whole minutes, I thought I’d have to bring a baby into the world alone.
And I knew, even then, you wouldn’t fight for me. ”
Something breaks loose inside me, something jagged and irreversible.
I’m in front of her before I even realise I’ve moved, dropping to my knees at her feet as she perches on the edge of the bed, resting my forehead against hers.
Her words slice through me—clean, cruel—leaving nothing but ache in their wake.
The thought of her sitting there—terrified, alone—thinking she couldn’t come to me, that she had to hide… it crushes me from the inside out.
Christ, she may as well put a bullet through my chest. It would hurt less.
My throat burns as I reach for her. “Jesus, Lil’…”
“And even when I found out I wasn’t pregnant, I still felt like I lost something, the stupid belief I’d been clinging to that somehow, somehow we would be okay was shattered that day.”
“I didn’t know. I swear to God, if I had—”
“You would’ve what?” She cuts me off. “Married me in secret? Fought your father? Walked away from the contract? Or would you have left me the same way you did when everything else fell apart?”
“I would’ve done something,” I protest, guilt clawing at me as the image of her terrified and alone—thinking she couldn’t turn to me—haunts me.
“Can you see now why I need you to bleed for me, Matt? To get your hands dirty and put me first, just once?”
I stare up at her, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“Failing you is my biggest regret,” I whisper. “I failed you and nothing I say tonight can erase that. I don’t expect it to. But I need you to know this—I never stopped loving you. I never stopped missing you.”
My voice breaks.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. If you want me to crawl through fire, cut out my heart, and lay it at your feet, I will. Name your price, baby. I’ll pay it.”
“I thought maybe… after a year, I’d see you, and I’d feel nothing,” she confesses. “But this is worse. Because I still feel everything. And I still don’t trust any of it.”
I know this isn’t the moment to touch her. It’s the moment to tear everything open—blood, bone, guilt, grief. So I do. I lay myself bare at her feet and pray to a God I don’t believe in that it’s enough.
“I thought I could bury it,” I admit. “Survive the contract. Marry Gianna on paper. Play the role and kill whatever I felt.” A rough breath. “But even when I doubted you, I couldn’t move on. I’ve been trapped in your web for four years, sweetheart, and the truth is, I never want to escape.”
I drag my forehead to hers, close enough that the heat from my breath fogs the tiny space between us. Her pupils explode, gold rimmed with fear, and for a second, the room becomes nothing but the sound of our breathing and the distant hiss of rain.
Her gaze softens slightly, but her chest heaves with hurt and disbelief. “And the contract? Gianna? How is that—”
I swallow, pain lancing through me. “We think Salvatore is behind the ring. Jonathan wants me to play the part for now while we keep digging, but the wedding is off. Even if it wasn’t…
I’m done letting this world tell me who I’m allowed to love.
It’s robbed too many years from us as it is.
If I have to walk away from all of it for you, I will.
You mean far more to me than that shit ever did. ”
She flinches at the words, as if the weight of my confession is physical. “You were… in love with me, the whole time. And I—” Her voice cracks. “And I thought you abandoned me.”
I lean forward, desperate, my eyes locked on hers.
“I never left you. Even when I didn’t know what was real or fake, I couldn’t turn my back on you, sweetheart.
Not then. Not now. Never.” My voice breaks.
“Everything I did—every wrong step, every terrible choice—was me trying not to lose you in a world that would’ve chewed us both up. ”
She’s silent, trembling slightly, letting the truth sink in. That’s the moment I’ve been waiting for. The wall is cracking. Maybe—just maybe—we can start again.
“You can’t just come back like nothing's changed,” she chokes out, voice brittle, but it’s a challenge now, not a command.
“I know,” I whisper, my lips brushing the side of her temple.
“I don’t want to pretend the last year hasn’t happened.
I want you to let me stay because you know I’ll burn the world down and build it again just to keep you in it.
” My palm presses to the small of her back, heavy enough to anchor her, to claim her, to promise her she’s mine.
“I’ll swallow whatever it takes. I’ll pull every string, break every rule, destroy every hand that reaches for you. ”
Her fingers clutch the pink strand of hair tighter, the tremor in her hands betraying her control. “You almost make it sound like a war,” she whispers.
“Because in this life it is,” I growl, pressing my forehead tighter to hers. “Anything worth keeping is worth fighting for. And I’m done standing on the sidelines.”
“Then don’t let me go,” she breathes, her eyes flickering between mine as if she’s weighing me up.
“I won’t,” I promise, lips grazing her temple. “I’ll never let you go again, I swear.”
“I still don’t know if I can trust you,” she whispers finally. Her voice is still thick with emotion, but it’s softer now. “And yet… I find myself wanting to.”
I’ll take that as a victory, small as it is. “Then let me prove it, Lily. Let me start fixing everything. No more secrets. No more lies. Just us, and the truth, and whatever it takes to bring you home.”
She swallows hard, staring at me, and for the first time since the exile, I feel a flicker of hope—small, fragile, but alive.