25. CHRIS
25
CHRIS
I tried to let it go. I really did.
I walked to my room, undid my tie, threw it on the bed. I even poured myself a drink—whisky, neat. As if I hadn’t had more than enough to drink tonight. As if I wasn’t an alcohol-fueled mess by now.
But the thoughts kept coming, looping around in my head like a fucking broken record. Where had she been? What was she hiding? And why the hell did I care so damn much?
I was being paranoid. I knew it. I should’ve just let it go, minded my own business, and gone to sleep like any sane person. But, apparently, sanity wasn’t my strong suit tonight.
Instead, I left my room, still wearing slacks and my button-down with the top button undone, and walked down the narrow hallway to Bella’s cabin. I shouldn’t be here. This was stupid.
But… I was the owner of the yacht, for fuck’s sake. I was allowed to be wherever the hell I pleased.
The quiet hum of the yacht filled the silence around me.
I hesitated at her door, my knuckles inches away from knocking. This was stupid. I was being that guy —the overbearing, jealous asshole. But I couldn’t help it. My hand rapped on the door before I could stop myself.
A moment later, the door opened, and Bella stood in front of me with wide eyes—in her pajamas, her hair tied up messily, and she was a vision.
“Chris? What are you doing here?” She pressed a hand to her chest. She glanced around me, looking down the hallway to see if anyone else was there.
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to find the words that wouldn’t make me sound like a complete idiot. “I need to talk.”
She blinked. “Right now?” She glanced down the hallway again before stepping back, letting me in. “About what?”
I stepped into her cabin, the air feeling suddenly too tight, the walls too close. This cabin was tiny compared to my suite. But why wouldn’t it be? These were the staff quarters.
Keep it together , I scolded myself, trying to force my alcohol-soaked brain to think straight. Yeah, maybe doing this now wasn’t such a good idea.
“About you sneaking out,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. Okay, so now that was out there. I wasn’t completely in control, clearly. My brain was taking over.
Bella crossed her arms over her chest, her expression shifting and I watched her closing down on me. “Sneaking out? Seriously, Chris? What are you, my dad ?”
Her words hit me like a slap, and I grimaced. Bella and her dad were not on good terms. At all. Being compared to him was a hell of an insult.
But maybe I deserved it… No. She’d snuck out and I wanted to know why. It was driving me crazy and despite knowing that this was a bad time—and a bad state—to have this conversation, I pressed on because I was an idiot.
“I’m just trying to understand, alright? One minute you’re here, the next you’re gone, and no one knows where the hell you’ve been.”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t owe you an explanation. I’m not some kid you get to keep tabs on.”
“You work for me,” I said hotly. “I should know where you are.”
“Yeah, when I’m working,” she clapped back. “But during my time off I get to do whatever the hell I want and it’s none of your business.”
I gritted my teeth. “The fuck it is,” I bit out.
“What the fuck, Chris?” she cried out. “Since when are you so damn controlling?”
The anger bubbled over. I hated that she was comparing me to her dad. I wasn’t like that.
“I’m not trying to control you, Bella. I just—I care about you, alright? And I don’t like the idea of you sneaking out, doing something behind my back. I thought things were different between us.”
Her eyes narrowed, her arms dropping to her sides. “You don’t like it? Who are you to say what I can and can’t do? This is exactly like what my father used to do—always needing to know where I was, what I was doing. And don’t even get me started on things being different between us. There’s still a whole world of shit you’re not telling me, so don’t you dare try to tell me I’m hiding something.” She was furious, her eyes spewing fire and she was incredible. In her anger, Bella wasn’t just a vision. She was breathtaking.
And I was Icarus, flying too fucking close to the sun.
My anger faltered, replaced by something colder—something that hurt. “I’m not your father, Bella,” I said, my voice quieter now. “I’m just… I’m trying to look out for you.”
She let out a bitter laugh, her eyes flashing. “I don’t need you to look out for me, Chris. I’m not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself. In case you haven’t realized, I got through the past decade without you just fine.”
I stared at her, my words twisting, sticking in my throat. I knew she could take care of herself—hell, she’d been doing it long before I came along and I’d forced her to keep doing it after I’d left, too. But it wasn’t about that. It was about how much I cared, the fact that she was right here within arms’ reach and still she pushed me again. It scared the living shit out of me to think about losing her again, but I didn’t have her, and that was even more terrifying.
“I know you can,” I said in a low voice. “But I’m not good enough for you, Bella. And knowing that you can just walk away from me—and probably should… it fucking kills me.”
The words tumbled out before I could stop them, and the room fell into silence. Bella stared at me and we were caught in the vacuum of my confession. My ears rang, the silence between us too loud.
“What?”
I swallowed, my throat tight. “I’m not good enough for you. I never have been. And maybe that’s why I get so paranoid, why I can’t just let things go. Because I’m terrified that one day you’re going to realize that, and you’re going to leave.”
“Chris,” she said. “You’re the one who left me, remember?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it. It was just better, okay? I couldn’t let you live a life with me when you deserve so much better.”
Damn it, was I going to bare my whole fucking soul now?
Apparently, yes.
Her expression shifted, the hardness in her eyes fading away, replaced by something softer, more understanding, that made my heart ache. She took a step toward me, and I could feel the heat radiate from her, a pulsing warmth that tugged at the edges of my frozen heart.
“Chris… you should have just told me.”
I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “How was I supposed to do that? I mess things up, Bella. That’s what I do. Fuck, these rumors and my inability to just step up and wipe them away already proves it. Never mind the fact that I was so fucking scared I walked away from the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve never once been able to give you what you deserve. And now I’m here, in your cabin, acting like some jealous asshole because I can’t stand the idea of you walking away from me and leaving me behind the way you should.”
She reached out, her hand resting on my arm, her touch sending a warmth through me that I didn’t deserve. “Chris, you’re not perfect. Neither am I. But you’re more than good enough for me. You always have been.” Her eyes shimmered. “I don’t know where you get it from that you’re not,” she added in a whisper.
My heart twisted, a painful pang in my chest. My emotions pushed up in my throat, nearly choking me. But she meant it.
“Bella…” I started, my voice cracking.
She stepped closer, her other hand coming up to cup my cheek, her eyes locking onto mine. “You don’t have to be perfect, Chris. You just have to be you . That’s all I want. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
I let out a shaky breath, my hands coming up to rest on her waist. “I don’t know how to be the guy you need,” I admitted. “I don’t know how to be more than this… more than what I am.”
She looked up at me, her brown eyes dark pools that stared right into my soul. “You already are exactly what I need.”
And just like that, the tension between us shifted, changed into something warmer, something real. I leaned in, my forehead resting against hers, and I let myself feel it—the connection between us, the way her touch calmed the storm inside me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For being an ass. For… everything.”
She shook her head, her hands moving to the back of my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t talk to me.”
“That’s not on you,” I said.
I opened my eyes, meeting hers, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was hope. Maybe we could make this work. Maybe I was broken, maybe we were both flawed, but maybe we could be enough for each other.
I leaned in, my lips brushing against hers, and she sighed, her body relaxing against mine as she kissed me back. It wasn’t frantic, wasn’t desperate—it was soft, slow, a promise that this time, we could do things differently.
When we finally pulled away, I rested my forehead against hers, my hands still holding her close. “Stay,” she whispered.
I nodded. “Okay.”