Chapter 42
42
ROMAN
I stared up at the ceiling in my bedroom. Alone. I was pretty sure I had not slept all night. Nothing I did would give me relief. It was like a form of torture. There was no escape. I had to wallow in the pain of betrayal. All the walls I put up to protect myself were in ruins and I felt exposed and vulnerable.
But not for long. I would never let myself feel like that again. I would never let myself be exposed like that. Ever. My arm automatically reached out to feel the empty bed. It had been way too easy to get used to having her beside me.
The decision to close myself off again was almost reflexive, a protective shell hardening around my battered heart. I rolled out of bed, my body heavy with exhaustion yet restless with stormy thoughts.
In the dim light of dawn, I walked over to the window and stared into the backyard.
I knew what I had to do. There was no way this thing with Kaira was going to work. Real or fake. Whatever it had almost been was never going to happen. It was a foolish plan from the very start. I had let myself get caught up but now I could see just how stupid it had been. I wouldn’t repeat that mistake.
I showered and headed downstairs. I spotted one of my staff members. She was a newer one. I couldn’t remember her name.
“Marissa,” I said.
She jumped and spun around. “Sir! I didn’t see you.”
“Sorry to have scared you. I have a job for you.”
“Of course.” She nodded.
After telling her what I wanted, I walked to the kitchen to get some coffee. A lot of coffee. I leaned against the counter and stared at nothing. Recently, mornings were the two of us sharing coffee. Sometimes, she would make me breakfast, other times we would enjoy whatever the cook prepared.
But now, the kitchen felt void of warmth. The absence of laughter and light-hearted teasing was louder than any other noise.
My mind kept replaying the moments that led to this cold morning. How could I have been so naive? I allowed myself to believe in a fantasy, and now the reality felt harsher than ever. No more illusions.
I pulled out my phone to check my calendar. I hoped it was a light day. I didn’t have the strength to deal with anything big.
That was when I saw it. The dinner reservation for tonight. For fucking Valentine’s Day. It was a splash of cold water. I quickly cancelled the reservation, the action feeling final and painfully symbolic. It was supposed to be a celebration of us, whatever “us” might have been—real or imagined, it didn’t matter anymore. A feeling of regret tickled at the back of my mind. Maybe I should have handled things differently. But it was too late for maybes.
I tossed the phone onto the counter with a clatter, rubbing my temples as I tried to shake off the headache that was building behind my eyes. The house was silent around me. I knew the rest of the staff would arrive or wake up soon.
And so would Kaira.
An hour later, I was in the foyer talking with another staff member when I felt the air shift. I knew what it was.
Her.
It was crazy that I could sense her before I saw her.
The moment I heard Kaira’s soft footsteps descending, I raised my gaze. She looked wrecked. Her eyes were puffy and red, her complexion pale. She carried herself like someone who hadn’t slept at all. She was wearing clothes I didn’t immediately recognize. Black leggings and a hoodie that looked well worn. I realized they were her clothes. Not anything I had purchased for her.
It was a statement. She was making it clear she didn’t want anything to do with me or the gifts I showered her with. That worked just fine for me.
I wondered if she’d spent the night crying. Judging by the way she looked, she had. Throughout the night, I had gotten halfway to her bedroom and stopped myself. I had listened to the muffled sound of her sobs. My heart ached to hold her, but I knew better. I couldn’t let myself get sucked in. I knew I would be inclined to let my guard down and let her back in.
Anthony walked in behind me. He looked at me, then Kaira.
“Ten minutes,” I said to him.
He nodded and walked right back out the door.
I stared at the contract amendments in my hands, the legal escape hatch I demanded my lawyers draft in the middle of the night. I knew people weren’t happy with me, but considering what I paid them, they did what I asked.
The staff cleared out like they were fleeing an impending grenade explosion.
Kaira stopped in front of me, her expression guarded but resigned. “Good morning,” she said quietly.
“I’ve had a termination agreement drawn up,” I said and held up the paperwork. “This ends our contract.”
She looked at the papers and then me. I saw the hurt. My shield was up. Her pain was not going to change my mind.
“Marissa will pack your bags, and Anthony will drive you home.”
She nodded without protest, her lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s fine,” she said, though her tone betrayed her weariness.
I held the documents out to her, watching as she scanned the pages. “These release us both from the contract,” I explained. “You’re free of this mess. So am I. It will be like it never happened.”
She took the pen I offered and signed her name with a steady hand, though her fingers trembled when she handed the documents back. “Is there anything else?” she asked.
I hesitated, glancing down at her left hand. The ring— my ring—caught the light, a cruel reminder of the facade we’d both worked so hard to maintain.
Her gaze followed mine. She seemed startled, as if she’d forgotten it was there. After a moment of hesitation, she slid the ring off and held it out to me. Her hand lingered a fraction of a second longer than necessary before I took it and put it in my pocket.
“I’ll wait in the car,” she murmured, brushing past me without another word.
Something in me snapped. I turned, compelled to say something , anything to explain this thing we had. Or didn’t have. “This never would have worked anyway.”
She stopped at the door and glanced over her shoulder, her expression a mix of hurt and disbelief. “I want to tell myself that too,” she said softly, “but I think we both know it isn’t true.”
Then she was gone, stepping outside without a backward glance. I stood frozen, clutching the ring in my pocket as though it might ground me. The front door closed with a finality that echoed through the house.
Minutes later, Marissa came back down with Kaira’s luggage, which, apparently, she had already packed herself. “She didn’t leave much behind,” Marissa said.
Anthony came back in the house. I saw the anger in his eyes but he didn’t say anything. I knew what he was thinking. I knew Anthony liked Kaira.
“I’ll take the bags,” Anthony said.
I shouldn’t have been surprised she had already packed. I supposed we both knew it was over. She would have left me if I hadn’t kicked her out. Anthony grabbed the luggage from Marissa’s grasp. He didn’t wait for help or instruct anyone on what to do next. He just walked out, his shoulders rigid.
“She left a lot of clothes in the closet but I think that was intentional,” Marissa said. “Should I pack them up?”
“If she didn’t pack them, no.”
She nodded. “Anything else?”
“No.”
I stood by the window, watching as the car pulled away, shrinking into the distance. I thought I’d feel relief, maybe even satisfaction at reclaiming my house, my space, my life . Instead, I felt hollow.
“Is Kaira leaving?”
I turned to see Aunt Ruby at the top of the stairs, her silk robe flowing around her as she descended. She stopped midway, clutching the banister with a frown. “My maid just told me Kaira was leaving. That can’t be true, is it?”
“Yes,” I said flatly.
Ruby tilted her head, her brow furrowing. “Why?”
“Because.”
“Roman, what is going on?”
“Nothing. It’s over. That’s that.”
I heard her mutter something under her breath but I ignored it.
“I assume you won’t be answering any follow-up questions?” she asked with her irritation evident.
“You assume correctly.”
She frowned deeper, stepping closer. “But she and I were supposed to be discussing wedding planning today. I didn’t get a chance to spend any real time with her. We had plans, Roman.”
“Not my problem.”
“We were going to create a Pinterest board for funsies and accidentally publicly share it so people believed?—”
“Enough!” My voice thundered through the hall, silencing her mid-sentence.
Ruby’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes wide with surprise. I rarely raised my voice at her, but I couldn’t stomach another second of it.
“This is all bullshit,” I said, my tone razor-sharp. “It always has been. I’m done indulging it. And so are you. Kaira is gone. Period. There is no fake engagement. It’s over.”
She opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it, instead retreating to the kitchen without another word. Her silence communicated her disappointment loud and clear, though.
I grabbed my coat and keys and slammed the front door behind me as I stepped into the cold morning air. It was colder than usual. Or maybe it just felt that way. A strong breeze brushed across my skin. The shitty weather felt appropriate—like a reminder of who I was before Kaira came along and thawed parts of me I’d thought were frozen for good.
The drive to the office was mercifully quiet. I ignored the Valentine’s Day banners strung along the streets, the couples holding hands as they strolled, and the florists bustling with customers. Street vendors were on every corner trying to hawk their roses and other cheap items for those that were scrambling for last-minute gifts for their sweethearts.
When I arrived at the building, the media swarmed me as usual, their questions flying like arrows. But today, I was in no mood to play nice. They had gotten used to me smiling and dropping tidbits of information about me and Kaira.
“Mr. Kelly, what are your plans for Valentine’s Day?”
“Is it true you gave your fiancée a giant heart-shaped ruby?”
“Have you chosen a wedding date?”
I stopped short, glaring at the reporters as they crowded around me. “Get out of my way,” I snapped, my voice rough enough to make them hesitate.
They shuffled back slightly, murmuring among themselves as I pushed through the revolving doors. For once, they didn’t follow me. Maybe it was the look on my face, or maybe they’d finally learned when to back off. Either way, I didn’t care. Let them mutter. Let them speculate. It was all noise.
Once inside, I practically stomped toward the elevator. There were a few people waiting at the elevators but it was not a surprise that, when I stepped in, they were all suddenly not interested in riding in the same small box with me.
Once the doors slid shut, I leaned back and closed my eyes. I couldn’t shake the image of Kaira’s tear-streaked face as she handed me the ring back.
I’d done the right thing, hadn’t I? I had protected myself, my company, my future. This was what the board had warned me about—getting too close, letting my guard down. Kaira had crossed a line, and I couldn’t let that slide. I couldn’t let her slide.
So why did it feel like I’d made the biggest mistake of my life?