Chapter 20
YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME
HENSON
Iblink—like maybe I didn’t just see what I think I saw. But no. Celia is standing there, smiling as if she hasn't just lit my entire night on fire.
“What the fuck, Celia?” I hiss, low enough to stay under the music but sharp enough to cut glass.
She tilts her head, cool and calm, still resting her hand on my chest.
“Well,” she says, gritting her teeth into a smile, “I’m here to spend New Year’s Eve with you, honey.”
Honey?
I nearly choke on the word.
“What are you doing here?” I bite, stepping in closer, lowering my voice to a growl. “You can’t just walk in here and act like—”
“We’re together?” Celia finishes, raising her brows.
She leans in with a laugh like it’s a joke, like this is cute, like I didn’t just lose the only woman who’s ever made me want more.
In that second, the realization lands so hard I almost forget where I am. It might be too soon, it might not make sense on paper, but that’s never mattered to me before. My instincts have always been my greatest strength, and in this moment, they are screaming at me with perfect, jarring clarity.
I’m falling for Amira.
This isn’t just infatuation or attraction or something easy to walk away from. What I feel for Amira is rooted in something far more real.
And now, because of Celia, that woman is gone. Vanished from the room, the air sucked out with her.
She probably thinks I’m just like the last guy who let her down.
I’ve never been the kind of man to chase after something I wasn’t sure of. But I’ve also never been afraid to fight for something when I was.
And Amira is everything I’m not ready to lose.
“Come on, honey. Let’s enjoy the party.”
“Don’t,” I snap under my breath. “Don’t do this, Celia. Not here. Not tonight.”
But she’s already smiling wider, eating up the attention from onlookers and my mother, who looks as if she’s about to faint from joy.
I grab Celia’s wrist and drag her through the crowd, ignoring the way heads turn as we pass. I pull her into the corner hallway near the study, a place that is now completely soured.
She stumbles in her heels and scowls. “Henson, stop manhandling me—”
“You kissed me.” My voice is a whip now. “In front of everyone. What the hell were you thinking?”
Celia pouts. “I missed you. I wanted to surprise you. Isn’t that what people do when they want to fix things in a relationship?”
“Fix things?” My laugh is sharp. Bitter. “You dumped me over the phone, Celia. Because I wasn’t ready to propose to you, and then you got engaged to someone else weeks later.”
“I made a mistake, okay? I regret it.”
I stare at her. At the flawless makeup, the dress, the calculated way her voice softens when she adds, “I want this. I want you.”
How could I ever have loved her?
And then I catch the sparkling ring on her left hand.
My stomach sinks. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“Your mother gave it to me when I arrived a few days ago. She said it was a family heirloom. That if you ever wanted to propose, this would be the ring.”
My blood goes cold.
Why the fuck would my mother give her that ring without talking to me first?
“Nadine invited me to celebrate New Year, and since I pieced together that you never told her we broke up, I just knew…” Celia smiles, twisting the ring on her finger.
“You knew what?” I snap.
“That you still love me and that you want this.”
I don’t even recognize my own voice when I say, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Because I know what this looked like to everyone else in that room. She’s wearing my family’s ring. She just kissed me. She called me her love.
And Amira…
Fuck.
She saw that ring and ran.
And I let her.
My vision narrows. The edges of the hallway blur, and the background noise is suddenly too loud. I can feel a tight band of pressure winding around my chest, the familiar tingle crawling up my neck.
I swallow it down. Bite hard on the panic clawing at my lungs. Not now.
“I have no idea what story you spun for yourself, but I’m not getting back together with you. That chapter is over. It’s been over for months, way before we broke up.”
Celia’s lips part, wounded disbelief blooming across her face as if she didn’t know this already.
“You should have never come here,” I seethe. “And using my mother to get in, showing up wearing that ring? What the hell did you think would happen?”
“I—”
“Don’t. Just… don’t.”
I take a step back, breathing hard, trying to keep my voice from rising so as not to draw attention from nearby guests.
“I think it’s best if you leave.”
She’s about to protest, but I’m already walking away.
I race through the house like I’m chasing a damn ghost.
People are still talking and laughing as if a bomb didn’t just detonate in the middle of the party.
But everything in me is coiled, straining to find Amira.
I scan faces, rooms, corners—nothing. Not the kitchen.
Not the back patio. Not the hallway where she hovered all evening just out of sight, making sure everything ran smoothly.
I round the corner near the grand entrance—and there she is.
Amira’s back is to me, shoulders tense beneath the soft glow of the overhead chandelier. She’s talking quietly to one of the staff members.
“I’ll be leaving for the night, but if anything urgent comes up, please call me.”
The person nods, gives her a sympathetic glance, and walks off.
Amira doesn’t turn, though I know she knows I’m here. I see it in the sudden stillness of her body and slight shift in her breathing.
“Amira,” I whisper.
I take a step forward and gently place my hand on her shoulder.
She flinches and jerks away like I burned her.
My chest caves in as she turns to face me. Her eyes are glassy, rimmed red. Her expression livid.
“Don’t touch me,” she snaps, tears clinging to her lashes.
“It’s not what—”
“I don’t even want to hear it, Henson. I trusted you. I let my guard down, even though I knew I shouldn’t. And all you did was prove to me that I was right all along. You are a heartbreaker,” she seethes, but I can hear the faint tremor in her voice, like I broke something.
“Amira, I’m sorry—”
“Save it.” Her hand comes up, cutting me off again before I can even get the words out. “I saw the ring. I saw the kiss. I saw the look on your mother’s face. Don’t insult me by pretending there’s nothing going on.”
“There’s not. I swear to God, Mira, I didn’t know she’d be here.”
“I helped your mom plan the surprise. Do you know how humiliating that is?”
I step toward her, but she backs away again, and my gut twists.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” I murmur.
“Well, you did.”
She turns before I can say anything else, heels clicking softly against the polished floor.
“Amira, please.” The panic is clear in my voice, and I barely recognize myself. I went from wanting no strings attached to begging a woman to not walk away from me.
“Don’t follow me. Just…” Her voice wavers. “Leave me alone, Henson. Forget this happened. Forget we happened.”
Every word lands like a punch. My heart lurches, then pounds so hard I swear it echoes in my ears. I stagger back a step, hand gripping the edge of the console table just to stay upright.
Amira reaches for the handle, pauses just long enough to swipe a tear from her cheek, and walks out the front door without looking back.
Shutting my eyes, I inhale. Exhale. One, two, three. My fingers press into the wood beneath them, grounding me. I count again. Four, five, six. Slowly, the ringing in my ears dulls. The pressure in my chest lightens. I’m still standing.
Barely.
I don’t know how long I stay there, staring at the spot where she last was.
But I know this: nothing about what just happened between me and Amira will ever be forgettable.