8. Katie
— ? —
Katie
Henry pulled strings to get me here at my new job.
Called in a favor with someone who owed him something, though he won’t tell me what.
All I know is that one day I was unemployed and spiraling, and the next I had an interview at a marketing firm on the twenty-third floor of a building that doesn’t have Kyle’s last name anywhere near it.
It has been an entire week of arriving at an office completely free of hushed breakroom rumors, surrounded instead by colleagues whose genuine smiles hold no hidden desire to harvest gossip.
After two years at Kyle’s father’s company, watching everyone take his side, feeling their eyes on me every time I walked to the copy machine, this feels like freedom. The work is similar enough that I’m not drowning, but different enough that nothing triggers memories.
Until today.
I’m at my desk, reviewing a client proposal, when the receptionist’s voice crackles through the intercom.
“Katie? There’s someone here to see you.”
“Who is it?”
“He says he’s your ex-husband.” She says it in almost a whisper.
My blood turns to ice.
“Tell him I’m busy.”
“Uhhhh. He’s already walking. Should I call security?”
No no no.
I stand up just as Kyle rounds the corner.
He’s holding flowers. Red roses, the cheap kind from a grocery store. His face is arranged into that wounded puppy expression I used to find endearing, back when I was stupid enough to believe it was real.
“Katie.” His voice carries across the entire open-plan office. “Please. Can we talk?”
Every head turns.
Maybe twenty of them. All of them watching like I’m the main character in a drama they didn’t know they’d signed up for.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“I made a mistake.” He steps closer, flowers extended like a peace offering. “A terrible, horrible mistake. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m asking anyway.”
“Kyle, you need to leave.”
“Not until you hear me out.”
“I don’t want to hear you out.”
“Katie, PLEASE.”
He drops to his knees.
In the middle of my office. In front of all my new coworkers. Kyle Everette, on his knees, holding grocery store roses, looking up at me with those big blue eyes that used to make me melt.
“I’m BEGGING you,” he says, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Give me another chance. I’ll do anything. I’ll go to therapy. I’ll cut Erin out completely. Just please, please don’t throw away what we had.”
My hands are shaking.
“What we HAD? You slept with my sister on our wedding day!”
Gasps ripple through the office. Someone actually puts a hand over their mouth.
“I was confused!” Kyle’s voice cracks perfectly. “Erin manipulated me! You know how she is, Katie. You KNOW. She’s always been jealous of you, always trying to take what’s yours. I fell for it. I was weak. But it’s YOU I love. It’s always been you.”
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have touched her.”
“I made a MISTAKE!”
“A mistake is forgetting an anniversary! A mistake is locking your keys in the car!” I’m shouting now, and I don’t care. “You don’t accidentally stick your dick in someone’s SISTER!”
“Katie...”
“Get up.”
“Not until you forgive me.”
“I will NEVER forgive you. Do you understand that? NEVER.”
His face crumples and tears streak down his cheeks. Real or fake, I can’t tell anymore.
“Then I’ll stay here. I’ll stay on my knees until you give me another chance.”
“Security is going to drag you out.”
“Let the whole world see how much I love you.”
I want to scream. I want to grab those flowers and shove them down his throat. I want to ask him how DARE he show up at my workplace and cause a scene when I’ve only just started putting my life back together.
I notice all these eyes on us from every single direction, and suddenly it completely clicks in my head that this isn’t an actual apology, it’s just a massive performance for the crowd.
“Leave,” I say coldly. “Now.”
“Please...”
“I said LEAVE.”
Security arrives. Two men in uniforms who look like they’d rather be anywhere else. They help Kyle to his feet, gently, because he’s not resisting. He’s just standing there with tears on his face and flowers in his hands, looking for all the world like a man whose heart is breaking.
“I’ll never stop fighting for you,” he calls over his shoulder as they escort him out. “Never, Katie!”
The office is silent.
Then someone coughs, and everyone suddenly finds something very interesting on their computer screens.
I collapse back into my chair, completely unable to steady the persistent trembling in my hands.
***
It happens again two days later.
I’m just standing there in the grocery store picking out avocados like a totally normal person when Kyle suddenly shows up at the end of the aisle, carrying the exact same flowers and putting on that same puppy-dog act he always does.
“Katie, please. Just five minutes.”
“Are you STALKING me?”
“I’m trying to make things right!”
“By following me to the grocery store?”
“I didn’t know where else to find you alone! You blocked my number! You moved out of your apartment!”
People are stopping to watch. A woman with a cart full of organic produce. A teenager with earbuds dangling. An old man pretending to examine cereal boxes while clearly eavesdropping.
“Kyle, this is insane.”
“Love makes you do insane things!” He drops to his knees again, right there in the produce section. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. All I think about is you.”
“Get UP.”
“Not until you talk to me.”
“I don’t WANT to talk to you!”
“Why? Because of Henry?” His voice turns sharp for just a second before smoothing back into desperation. “Is that what this is about? You’re with him now, so I don’t matter?”
“You never mattered. That’s what I’m realizing.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I mean every word.”
A store employee appears, looking uncomfortable. “Ma’am? Is this man bothering you?”
“Yes. He is.”
They escort Kyle out. And again, he goes willingly, throwing longing looks over his shoulder like we’re in a romance movie and I’m the cold-hearted love interest who just needs to see the error of her ways.
***
Three days after that, he shows up in the lobby of Henry’s building.
This time there are doormen who stop him before he can get to the elevator, but not before he can shout his proclamations of love loud enough for everyone in the marble-floored lobby to hear.
“I’LL WAIT FOR YOU, KATIE! HOWEVER LONG IT TAKES!”
Security removes him.
The doorman gives me a sympathetic look when I finally emerge from the elevator, cheeks burning.
Two days later, he corners me right outside my gym, launching into the exact same scripted lines and forced tears before dropping into another dramatic kneel on the pavement.
“Kyle, you need to stop.”
“I CAN’T stop! Don’t you understand? You’re everything to me!”
“I’m calling the police.”
“Call them! Let them arrest me! At least then you’ll know how serious I am!”
By the time I get back to the penthouse that night, I’m exhausted. Emotionally drained. Feeling like I’ve been running a marathon I never signed up for.
Henry is waiting in the living room with two glasses of whiskey.
“Rough day?”
“He showed up at my gym.”
“I heard.”
“How?”
“The doorman texted me.” He hands me a glass. “Said you looked like you wanted to commit murder.”
“I DO want to commit murder. Is that illegal? It should be legal when the victim is your stalker ex-husband.”
“Unfortunately, yes. Still illegal.”
I drain half the whiskey in one gulp.
“What is he DOING, Henry? What’s the endgame here? Does he actually think I’m going to take him back if he grovels enough times in public?”
Henry’s jaw tightens. “I don’t think this is about getting you back.”
“Then what?”
“I think it’s about making you look bad.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Think about it. Every time he shows up, someone is watching. Every time he begs, there’s an audience.” His eyes are dark. “He’s building a narrative, Katie. The devoted ex-husband who just wants forgiveness. The cold-hearted woman who won’t give him a chance.”
A cold wave of dread instantly hollows out my stomach.
“No. That’s... no. People wouldn’t believe that.”
Henry doesn’t say anything.
My phone buzzes. Then again. And again. And again.
I look down at the screen.
Notification after notification. All from accounts I don’t recognize, all tagging me in the same post.
My hands are trembling as I open the link.
Pulling up Kyle’s Instagram profile reveals a video that quickly turns out to be an entire, carefully edited compilation of our interactions.
The three-minute montage blends all his curated apologies together, cutting from Kyle crying at my office, the grocery store, Henry’s lobby, and my gym to frame me as a cold, annoyed villain who simply walks away and refuses to engage.
The caption makes my vision blur.
She doesn’t want an apology. She never did. Her plan was to marry my rich uncle all along. I was just the stepping stone. Gold digger exposed.
The comments are already flooding in.
Wow, she’s evil.
Poor Kyle tried so hard! She didn’t even give him a chance!
She played him AND his uncle. Disgusting.
This is why men have trust issues.
Gold digger alert! Someone warn Henry Wilson!
She’s clearly only with the uncle for money. Look at her face. Cheap
5,000 likes. 2,000 comments. And climbing.
The phone slips from my hand.
Then I’m on the penthouse floor, knees pressed to the cold marble, and there are sounds coming out of my throat that don’t sound human.
He SET ME UP.
All of his public apologies and tearful groveling were nothing more than a trap, and I walked right into it.
“Katie.” Henry is on the floor beside me, his hands on my shoulders. “Katie, look at me.”
“He planned this.” My voice is wrecked. “He PLANNED all of it. The flowers and the crying and the ‘I’ll never stop fighting for you.’ It was all fake. It was all for the cameras.”
“I know.”
“And everyone believes him! Look at the comments, Henry! They think I’M the villain! They think I was using you to get money!”
“They’re wrong.”
“IT DOESN’T MATTER IF THEY’RE WRONG!” I’m screaming now, tears streaming down my face. “He WINS! He always wins! No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to fight back, he finds a way to make me the bad guy!”
Henry pulls me against his chest.
I sob into his shirt, loud and completely undignified. All the progress I thought I’d made, all the confidence I’d rebuilt, crumbling to dust.
“I can’t do this anymore.” The words come out broken. “I can’t keep fighting someone who has no conscience. He doesn’t play fair. He never has. And I’m so TIRED, Henry. I’m so tired of losing.”
His arms tighten around me.
“Then we end this.”
I pull back, looking at his face through blurry eyes. “What?”
“We end this. Permanently.” His expression is hard. Determined. “No more defense. No more reacting to his moves. We go on offense.”
“How? He has the whole internet on his side now.”
“Because they don’t know the truth. They only know his version.
” Henry cups my face in his hands, thumbs wiping away tears.
“I know someone who can get the security footage from your wedding venue. Everything can be bought. I’m willing to pay the price.
We’ll take any footage that proves they were going behind your back. ”
My heart stutters.
“If Kyle and Erin were touching before they went into that room, it’ll be on camera. If they were doing anything that proves your version of events...” His eyes are dark. Intense. “Then we release it. All of it. And we let the internet decide who the real villain is.”
Hope flickers in my chest.
“Can you actually get that footage?”
“I can get anything if I want it badly enough.”
“Why would you do this for me?”
“Because you deserve the truth.” His voice drops low. “And because I am so goddamn tired of watching him hurt you.”
I stare at him. This impossible, infuriating, wonderful man who showed up at my door with a fruit basket and changed everything.
“Do it,” I whisper. “I want everyone to see who he really is.”
Henry’s jaw sets.
“Consider it done.”