Chapter 34 #2
My jaw clenched, and for a moment I just studied him, waiting for something he clearly would never give. The silence between us grew heavy, pressing on my ribs until I had to look away.
My gaze found Sofia. And that was a different kind of ache entirely. “And I’m sorry, you’re still with this man? After what he did to me?”
Shame graced her face for a second before it disappeared. “Cora, believe me, I was, am, still furious about what happened. But you have got to understand that we want what’s best for Agnes.” Their daughter. “She needs her dad around. I want him around.”
I narrowed my eyes with all seriousness. “You want him,” I pointed at Jamie. “Him. Around your daughter?”
She nodded. “He’s a good man.”
My eye roll was just a mask because inside I was convinced that if I didn’t shield myself, I’d crumble. “Do you need reminding what you wanted to talk to me about?”
Jamie moved forward in my peripheral, and I stepped away from the counter.
“Finally got something to say?” My voice rose. “Go on, speak up!”
Guilt veiled his eyes as his face cringed with regret. “I’m sorry. I really, really am, Cora. My head wasn’t in the right place. I was dealing with postpartum depression and I wasn’t thinking clearly at all, and I’m so sorry for what I did. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
My brain was seconds away from exploding. “Are you still suffering from it?”
His head pulled back. “What?”
“Your postpartum. Is another side effect that it’s making you stalk me too?”
“Stalk her?” Sofia asked, her head rearing away. “What is she talking about, Jamie?”
My laugh stuttered out of me. “Brilliant. You’ve managed to keep that from her too.”
Jamie looked at me, his eyes wide. Shaking. “Cora, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, we’re going full denial. Alright.” I reached into my pocket to get my phone, scrolling until I found the message thread I’m glad Marcus told me to never delete. I handed the phone to Sofia. I think she flinched a little when my trembling hands touched hers. “Here, have a flick through that.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Rory came back into the bakery, and as I turned, her worried eyes found mine. Then Jamie’s.
Her pace quickened, and as she reached me, she whispered into my ear, “Should I go get Marcus?”
I shook my head as I eyed her. “I’ve got this.”
I turned to find Sofia’s worried eyes on her husband and Jamie now with my phone in his hands.
He looked back at me. “This wasn’t me.”
“Except that it was.” My head pulled back. “And to save you digging yourself into a deeper hole, we literally tracked you.”
“We?” Jamie asked. “Who’s we?”
Me and the best fucking padlock in the world.
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is we tracked where the texts were coming from and it was that secret address I’m sure your wife also has no idea about.”
“Secret address? What are you… oh.” Realisation swept over his face, his voice still. “That’s our old house.”
“What?”
“The place we used to stop off at, that’s our old house. Was it the place in Chelsea. On West 22nd?” I nodded, as his face softened. “We haven’t sold it yet. We’re using it for storage.”
My head shook slowly, heart thudding in my ears. “That’s great, but… the texts.” I forced the words out, even as my throat tightened. “We literally watched you type something—and then it came through on my phone.”
Jamie and Sofia exchanged glances, their brows knitting together in a confusion that didn’t feel fake. Not the clumsy, overacted kind I could’ve brushed off and spun into something easier to swallow.
This looked real. Too real.
And maybe I was just overtired. Maybe I was losing it.
But I knew what I saw.
And more than that—I knew it was Jamie.
It had to be.
It couldn’t be anyone else—
My phone buzzed.
Still in Jamie’s hand.
He looked down at the screen.
And the moment his eyes lifted to mine, cold, readable, I knew exactly who it was from.
He held the phone out to me. “And this… is supposed to be me?”
I took it back, careful not to let our fingers touch. I couldn’t take that—not now. Not with my pulse pounding and my stomach twisting like something was very, very wrong.
My gaze dropped to the screen.
And there it was.
Boo.
My eyes lifted back to Jamie, my stomach twisting. “You… you planned this. I’m not stupid. This is all to throw me off.” I dropped the phone back on the counter and backed up, bumping into Rory who caught me. “This is all you. It has to be!”
But what was scaring me more was that now I wasn’t sure. Knowing it was Jamie still scared me, but the mystery was solved. There was no fear of the unknown anymore. It was him. Case closed. And knowing that, I could accept it and move on.
But the sheer idea that this was someone else…
Jamie placed his hands down on the counter, his eyes lowering to meet mine.
And for a second, just a second, it was the same look I saw every morning, the one that came with tea and a pastry, because he knew I’d never wake up early enough to get one and still make it to class on time.
There was real care in his eyes. The kind that felt honest. Familiar.
Or maybe I’d officially lost it.
“Cora,” he said, voice low, steady, “I swear, on Agnes’s life, this isn’t me.”
I shook my head, but he didn’t move.
He just stood there. “This. Isn’t. Me.”
The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. I couldn’t find the words, and maybe he didn’t have any left either.
And then—
My phone buzzed.
I flinched. The sound sliced through the quiet like a blade.
I didn’t want to look.
But I did.
And when I saw the words lighting up my screen, everything inside me dropped.
Heart, breath, reason… it was gone.
He’s telling the truth, little one.
My heart stopped. Ears muffled like I was drowning. My vision blurred and I didn’t know which way was up. Every voice became fuzzy, like I had my headphones on full blast playing nothing but TV static. It was deafening, but what strangled me was the fear.
It was never Jamie.
It was never him.
All this time I’d been chasing a ghost.
I didn’t have the space to try and guess who was doing this, all I knew was that I was getting weaker by the second and needed someone to hold me up right. And there was only one person I wanted around me right now.
My legs straightened as I rounded the counter, breaking out into a run and bolting through the door, looking left and right.
It was impossible trying to look for him, there were so many tears breaching my eyes that I wouldn’t see him even if he was right in front of me.
And the rain had come back with a vengeance.
So I chanced left, and ran, and ran, until my eyes cleared. But still, I couldn’t find him. Couldn’t see the car I hated but now loved like I did him.
Home was the next best option if he wasn’t around, so that’s where I ran, through the streets, through the rain, stepping in gross dirty puddles of water and drenching my outfit in grime. But I didn’t stop, not for a second, not to breathe, not to think. And I didn’t stop until I was home.
When I turned our street, my feet ran twice as fast, only breaking to wedge my key into the door. I didn’t have the energy to question why I’d ran up Marcus’ steps and not my own, and maybe that was because I already knew why.
I pushed it open like whoever was doing this was chasing me, not taking a breath until I was inside.
It smelt like him, this home. That was another reason why I liked it here.
It was an extension of him, and when I barely got anything out of him in the beginning, this felt like another chapter of him he wouldn’t let me read just yet.
It was pure safety, and that was exactly what I needed right now.
I slammed the door and rested my hands on my knees, heaving my way to the stairs.
I climbed them so slowly I was sure I was on my way to passing out.
The tears just kept coming, and I didn’t know how to stop them.
How could they stop if this ghost that was haunting me had no face anymore?
How could I relax for even a second when I didn’t know what or who was waiting for me to slip up?
My body officially gave up at the top of the landing.
My legs curled up to my chest, my arms wrapped around them, and my head leant against the wall.
Anyone would think no time had passed at all between now and Jamie attacking me.
I was a mirror of that version of me I couldn’t recognise, and that only made me cry harder because all that progress, all the work I’d done to make sure what happened didn’t follow me around like a shadow, was fading quicker and quicker by the second.
I don’t know how long I sat there before I heard the door burst open.
Part of me knew it was Marcus before I heard him, but still, hearing him call my name made sob, fuelled by nothing but relief.
His body appeared at the bottom of the stairs, and soon enough I was in his arms, his body crouched down beside me, rocking me back and forth.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
He whispered my favourite words into my ear.
I liked them so much because he thought about them.
He could have told me I was okay, or he could have shushed me, and it made me like him that little bit more because he didn’t.
Because I wasn’t okay, and I didn’t want to be shushed.
I wanted someone to hold me whilst I cried as I realised how not okay I was.
And he did just that.
After a while he brushed the hair out of my face and looked at me, his eyes warming every part of my face that they hit. “Can you stand up for me?”
I nodded, and slowly rose to my feet as he wordlessly lead me to the bathroom. He perched me on the end of his tub, and my eyes zoned out as the water turned on. I turned my head just enough to watch him fill the tub with bubbles, a soft scent of lavender and vanilla filling the room in minutes.
When it was full he crouched in front of me, his hands on my knees. “Want me to leave whilst you get changed?”
I shook my head, and let him take my hand. There was no point in making him leave, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me naked before. And besides, I wanted him here. I wanted him full stop.
He helped me out of my clothes, and when his fingers grazed my skin all I felt was warm, and safe, and I don’t know why it meant so much that I was naked and not one part of it was sexual, but it did.
I stepped into the tub and sank down into the warmth that was steaming up the black pearl tiles. Marcus must have grabbed a stool from somewhere and perched himself next to me, and I wanted to tell him thank you, I wanted to tell him that I loved him… but I just couldn’t find the words right now.
“Can I?” He asked, pulling my hair out of the claw clip I’d shoved it in to.
I nodded, and before long he had a cup in his hands and was washing my hair, creating a lather that he massaged into my hair, soothing me that little bit more.
And it was times like this where I wondered why I resisted so hard with him.
His heart was solid gold. He was practically honey on toast and little did I know how much I craved that until he showed up. He was gentle, and kind, and so completely undeserving of the hate I pushed on him.
I leant my head back a little, enough that my eyes caught his. “Thank you.”
His smile stretched wide, and his eyes glowed like the tiles watching us. “Any time, angel.”