Chapter 30
Xander
The minute my gaze lands on Cora, I know.
I know with unequivocal certainty that we will not recover from this.
I was prepared to meet an angry Cora. A sad Cora. A frustrated Cora.
I wasn’t prepared for this.
Her eyes are devoid of emotion. Her face is unreadable. It’s like she’s gone already. She retreated into a place where I can’t reach her. I can’t pull at her heart. A place where she can be safe from a bastard like me.
I completely lost it with Corm when he insisted I take a client call with him. At one point, his asking me to step in was a badge of approval, something I was thriving on. At one point, the Merged business took precedence over anything and everything.
And before that, it was my family business.
Always focus on the outcome. On the next goal. On the score.
So inconsequential in the light of the loss I already feel in my veins. My entire life has been built on a false purpose.
In a twist of fate, the only thing that matters is something I finally had to work hard for. But instead, I found a shortcut, and now I will pay the price.
The price too steep to survive.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Roxy scurries away, closing the door behind her.
Cora doesn’t move. She doesn’t seem to breathe. I want to say something, but she looks so fragile that a word might break her.
I don’t know what to say to make it better.
To explain.
To apologize. To fucking apologize. I grasp that idea with all the vigor and fleeting hope.
“I’m sorry, Coraline. I’m so fucking sorry.”
The words feel foreign but right on my tongue. “I didn’t think you’d marry me. I didn’t think you would want to be with me. Fuck, I wasn’t thinking at all. I was just acting. I was being a spoiled brat who wanted you, so I got you. At any cost.”
For all I know she’s petrified, her entire posture and expression turned to stone.
“I’m sorry, Coraline. Tell me what to do?” I need to hold her, but I know I have no right to. I fucking gave that up when I made my stupid choices.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, and I feel the sentiment deep inside me, twisting with guilt and fear.
“Tell me everything. And don’t you dare leave anything out.” The ice in her tone pierces through me like a dagger.
I nod. I don’t see a point in recounting my actions, but she is in charge here. A humbling experience. “Okay. Do you want to sit?”
“Talk,” she snaps.
I take a deep breath. “I wanted you since I first met you at Cal’s Christmas party.
You didn’t take me seriously. You sassed me, and frankly didn’t even look at me the way I saw you.
I thought that would be it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.
At first, it wasn’t that crazy, intense thinking about you every waking minute.
The memory of you just quietly crept in.
I would remember you here and there. I never thought of anyone but myself before.
And the obsession with you grew with every run-in. ”
She is mere feet away, but the gap between us stretches endlessly.
Sweat trickles down my spine. I’ve given presentations that have yielded small fortunes. I’ve negotiated hundreds of millions of dollars. I’ve dealt with important information, pitched risky ideas.
None of it ever felt as critical. As urgent. As vital.
“I invited you to the gala. I thought I would fuck you and move on. But you… I don’t know… You slipped under my skin. And when I took you to Corm’s mom’s luncheon, and we spent the afternoon together… I saw a possibility, but you were still fighting it. I was desperate.”
“And then Roxy gave you a file about me.” She folds her arms across her chest, impatience radiating from her.
I nod.
“And you bribed Sanjay to leave me. Why?”
“I wanted you to depend on my help. I didn’t think that the story about me needing a wife would sway you.”
“Is that all you did? And think carefully about how much you’re going to omit. I have no room left for more shocking discoveries.” Her chin quivers. She lowers her arms, hugging her midriff now.
The hurt is prominent in her posture, in her expression, in the words she says, and in those she doesn’t. If it’s only an ounce as agonizing as what I feel… Fuck, I hate this. I will never forgive myself for hurting her this much. For betraying her trust.
“I found your ex-fiancé’s son and his mother, and I paid her to run into you.”
Her eyes widen. “But what were the chances of such an encounter?”
“It didn’t matter when it happened. In my mind, I took the steps to eliminate the competition.”
“Like I was a business transaction?” She snorts and leans against the windowsill, spent.
“I paid your employee, and I bought the building to hike up your rent.” I recount all my unhinged actions.
She gasps, stumbling to the chair, sagging into it, broken. My insides burn with the poison of my actions. With my inability to take the pain away from her.
The fucked-up part? I don’t regret doing it. At the end of the day, it brought us happiness. I only regret that she feels the agony of the discovery.
Desperately, I want to say, ‘Look at the bright side,’ but I lost any privileges when I made the choices that led us here.
“Is that all?” A tear rolls down her cheek.
“Yes.”
She snorts. Like my word means shit. It probably does, considering everything I fucked up.
“I’m sorry,” I plead again.
She shakes her head, her eyes downcast. I can’t stand it and drop to my knees beside her.
“You didn’t believe we could be good together…” I trail off. I don’t want to say desperate things that I would regret.
There is enough regret swirling around for the rest of our lives.
“How am I to trust you ever again? You fucking destroyed my business to trick me into this sham of a marriage.” She stands, stepping around me.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I spring to my feet, crowding her. She steps back, her back hitting the window.
“Your business? Have you realized this is the first time you’re calling it your business? It’s always been your father’s bistro.”
“Don’t turn it around. I’m not the one who is lying here.”
I snicker in exasperation. “No, you only lie to yourself.”
“Fuck you.” She pushes at my chest, but I don’t fucking budge.
“And let’s be honest here, your business didn’t suffer from my meddling; it bloomed.”
“Fuck you,” she yells again, trembling.
“And while we’re at it…” I control my voice, leaning closer, my mouth just a breath away from her face. “Don’t. Fucking. Call. This. A sham. Maybe I tricked you into this… but this between us is real.”
She lifts her chin, her eyes glistening. “And so is my hurt.”
A punch to my gut.
I can’t help it, and I touch her cheek, wiping a tear from her soft skin. “I’m so fucking sorry, Coraline.”
She closes her eyes and tilts her head slightly, like she needs my touch as much as I need it.
The feather-like connection should ground me a bit. It doesn’t.
We stand there in stillness. Like the hush before the shattering.
That deceptive quiet when everything feels suspended—too calm, too careful. As if the air itself is holding its breath, waiting.
The touch is light. The breath is soft. But beneath it all, the pressure builds.
Unseen. Unspoken.
A silence so complete, it rings in my ears.
Break ups don’t always come screaming. Sometimes they tiptoe in, before it all comes crashing down.
She opens her eyes, looking at me with sadness but also aloofness. “You know what’s heartbreaking? The first time you say you’re sorry, and it’s too late.”
“Don’t say that. Please, Cora.”
She pushes past me. “You had a chance to tell me the whole truth when some of it came up in San Francisco.”
“I was scared.” I admit the fucked-up truth. I wasn’t man enough to confess. I was hoping it wouldn’t get out. “I was so close to losing you, and I was fucking terrified. I couldn’t let that happen. You were so hurt already, I—” I throw my arms up, exasperated. With myself. With the situation.
She looks at me. Like, really looks at me, with a sadness that rips my chest in half.
“And you lost me anyway.”