Chapter 37
Kaden
The door swings open just before my knuckles meet the wood.
Hope stands there, her silky red hair twisted into a messy bun, loose strands spilling along the sides, framing her beautiful face.
She’s wearing a crisp white button-down tucked into high-waisted jeans, the top two buttons of her shirt left undone, just enough to reveal a modest hint of cleavage.
The sight of her nearly steals the air from my lungs. She’s stunning without even trying. And as she stands there, all angel-like in the doorway, it hits me just how much I’ve missed her.
A small, guarded smile lifts the corners of her mouth, and though hurt still lingers beneath the surface, it’s tempered only by the softening of her eyes.
“Hello, Kaden,” she rasps softly. “Thank you for coming. Come in,” she says, stepping aside to let me pass.
I nod silently and step through the door, my words catching in my throat as if they physically cannot release.
Once she locks the door behind us, I follow her to the dining table, my steps slow and weighted.
I’m nervous and anxious about this conversation, so much so, I can feel sweat gathering just beneath my collar.
As we enter the kitchen, my attention catches on a detached cabinet door laid flat across the island, its freshly sanded-back wood grain almost obscured by bold brush swipes of warm, earthy colours. Test patches. She’s narrowing down her choice.
She’d mentioned throwing herself into some DIY renovations, and I wonder if this is how she’s been filling her time—if this is what’s helped keep her busy, and perhaps distracted from me.
I know it’s what helped me. I’ve buried myself in building and filling customer orders, working so tirelessly that I now have enough stock in my online shop to last for weeks.
The funny thing is, orders have been coming in faster than I expected, so steadily that I’ve started seriously considering turning my hobby into a full-time career.
It’s the kind of decision I would’ve loved to talk through with Hope, to hear her thoughts, her feelings about it.
But since everything is still up in the air between us, I’m not sure bringing it up with her would be a good idea right now.
“Would you like something to drink?” she asks.
“I’m okay, thanks,” I reply, lowering myself into one of the dining chairs. “To tell you the truth, I think I’m a little too nervous to eat or drink anything right now.”
She nods slowly, and I don’t miss the way she doesn’t offer the usual reassurance, no gentle insistence that I have nothing to be worried about.
Taking the chair across from me, she clasps her hands on the table, her expression unreadable, giving nothing away.
“How have you been?” she asks, her voice soft, yet steady.
“I could’ve been better,” I admit honestly. “But I’m getting by, just trying to take it day by day, I guess. How are you?”
She sighs heavily. “Same. Just been caught up with the renovations, work… Zac,” she says, and the moment she mentions her son’s name, a tight knot forms in my chest. I’ve missed them both, more than I can put into words.
“How is Zac?”
The question makes her lips curl into a proud smile. “He’s been good—great, actually. Ever since he came first in his school project, he’s been riding this kind of high, and I don’t think he’s coming down from it anytime soon.”
My brows shoot up in surprise. “He won the competition?”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you. But...um...,”
She doesn’t finish the sentence, but I already knew what she was going to say—she was still too mad and hurt to share the good news with me.
“That’s fantastic, Hope. I always knew he’d come out on top. He worked so hard, and I’m thrilled others saw the talent I did when I helped him. You must be so proud.”
She glances down at her clasped hands for a slow beat, then looks back up at me, and that’s when I notice it—the tears welling in her eyes.
“God, I thought I could do this without crying,” she whispers, her voice cracking slightly.
I reach for her hand, but she pulls it back quickly, folding both hands into her lap, out of my reach.
“I’m so sorry, Hope,” I say, pouring every ounce of sincerity I have into the words.
“For everything—for hurting you, for betraying your trust. For not telling you the truth about my past the first day I met you. But most of all, I’m sorry for becoming just another man in your life who’s found a way to disappoint you. ”
A single tear escapes down her cheek, and my gaze follows its path as more gather and fall. Something in my chest constricts, and I wish more than anything, I could just wipe them away.
“Hope—”
“It’s okay, Kaden,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “I’ll be fine. I just need a moment, please.”
“Take all the time you need.”
Her gaze remains downcast, no doubt to conceal the steady stream of tears now pouring down her face. I desperately want to go to her—to pull her into me and hold her close, while whispering a thousand apologies against her skin.
But all I can do is sit here and watch as she cries in silence. Even at her most vulnerable, she’d rather shoulder it alone than reach for my comfort.
This is so much harder than I ever imagined. I hate that I’ve become just another arsehole who’s added to her pain.
Disappointed in myself, I briefly look way, unable to face the hurt I’ve caused her.
A few minutes later, she brushes at her cheeks with the cuffs of her sleeves and draws in a steadying breath before lifting her glassy, red-rimmed eyes to meet mine.
“Sorry about that. I don’t even know why I’m crying like this.” She sniffles, swiping at her tears almost angrily, as if she’s irritated with herself for breaking down in front of me.
“Nothing to be sorry for. Do you want to stop?”
She shakes her head. “No, I can handle this,” she assures me, the takes a deep breath in. “It’s just I… I didn’t expect to feel like this the moment I saw you again.”
“Like how?”
“Like...like I’ve missed you so much.” She releases a long, exasperated sigh. “Hearing your voice again makes me feel… sad, yet warm and fluttery at the same time, especially when you talk about my boy the way you always do.”
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you…
and Zac, these past two weeks,” I admit truthfully.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you, wondering how you’re doing—how Zac is doing.
I’ve been so scared. Scared that you’ll tell me our friendship is over, that I’ll never see you again after this.
I don’t know if I have it in me to just walk away, but if that’s truly what you want, I’ll respect your decision. ”
“I have made my decision. But I want to ask you a few questions first.”
I swallow hard. “Ask me anything. I’ll be nothing but truthful. I promise you.”
“That woman—the one we saw at Jason’s restaurant the other day, the pregnant one—was that your ex-wife?”
I nod slowly. “Yes. That was her. Her name is Skylar.”
“What happened between you two?”
A deep, weary sigh leaves me, as if talking about my past drains every ounce of soul. “I betrayed her. I lied and cheated on her with her best friend, Lucia, who was Skylar’s TA at the school they both worked at—the same school Adrian worked at. He had actually replaced her after she resigned.”
She nods slowly, silent, giving me the space to speak without interruption.
Guilt wraps around my throat like a tightening noose—the knowledge that I am the architect of my marriage’s destruction, and by extension hers too. Had I never betrayed Skylar, she would never have felt the need to leave her job, and Adrian and Lucia might never have crossed paths at all.
“I had an affair with Lucia for six months before Skylar discovered everything.
And then one day, while I was at work, she left without a trace—packing up everything and leaving me with nothing but a folder full of evidence of my betrayal and a single letter declaring our marriage over, saying she never wanted to see or hear from me again.
“I felt an immediate wave of guilt and remorse for what I’d done.
Before Lucia, I had never cheated on my wife.
I never looked the other way, not when Skylar was everything I’d ever wanted.
But after I met Lucia, got to know her a little, there was something about her that drew me in, that spoke to a darker, more selfish side of me.
What I realised—though far too late, was that it was all temporary.
None of what I felt for Lucia was real, or even close to how I felt about Skylar. ”
“If that’s true, then why did you continue seeing Lucia after your wife left?”
“Because if I ended things with her, it would mean I’d destroyed my marriage, my entire life for nothing. That was the only reason I stayed.”
“Did you love her?”
“I thought I did, at one point. But after Skylar left, it only confirmed what I’d known all along—that my feelings for Lucia were driven purely by lust and desire. There was never anything deep or genuine between us.”
“And so then what?”
“I spiralled. I drank non-stop, which sparked constant friction and endless arguments with Lucia. I became miserable, depressed, hollow, and began to lose all hope of ever being happy again. I thought I’d never find Skylar.
But then I did, by sheer luck, while on a business trip to Melbourne.
It had been months since I’d seen or spoken to her.
And when I found her in a completely different city, she wasn’t the woman I remembered.
She was different—happier, stronger, freer.
She had a whole new life: a new look about her, new friends—a new man. ”
“Her now husband?”