27. Genevieve
Chapter twenty-seven
Genevieve
The world stopped spinning.
My pulse was gone, my breath stolen from my chest, my bones hollowing out. I reread the line once. Twice. A third time before my vision blurred so completely I could barely see the words anymore.
He knew…
He already knew.
He already fucking knew.
My knees almost buckled, bile rising in my throat, my heart pounding so loudly I couldn’t hear anything else.
This was it. The secret I’d buried. The lie I’d chosen. The truth I never gave him.
Right here. Staring back at me. Mocking me.
A floorboard shifted behind me, barely a sound, but it pierced through me as I froze. Something cold crawled up my spine, goosebumps settling under my skin before I even turned.
His presence moved through the room, absolutely suffocating. The air thickened. I could barely breathe as he finally spoke. “Put it down, Genevieve.” His voice was lethal in its restraint.
My fingers spasmed around the paper. Slowly, ignoring my better judgement, I turned to face him as he stood in the doorway. Backlit by the hall light. Shoulders rigid, chest rising and falling with calculated control.
He took one step into the room, and I stumbled back, my body understanding the approaching danger my mind couldn’t register. His gaze flicked to the paper in my hand, then up to my face—
And something in him switched, his eyes growing darker by the second. Like he’d expected this moment. Prepared for it even.
“Reid…” My voice broke.
“You just couldn’t help yourself,” he murmured, “not even for one night.”
He didn’t stop walking, his demeanor terrifyingly calm, which somehow made this worse. So much fucking worse.
My footsteps faltered, almost tripping as I moved back. “Reid… Reid, I’m sorry.”
“You want to apologize now? It’s a little too late for that, isn’t it?”
I swallowed, but my throat barely worked. For every step he took I felt myself back away. I couldn’t even feel my body, think straight, breathe right. Everything felt wrong.
“You got on that jet with me,” he murmured, watching my every pathetic step, “and every mile we flew, I kept waiting. To see if you would tell me. At the gala, you were silent. Every day at the office, in your home… Christ, even with me inside you. You didn’t say a word.
And for the last three years you kept this from me…
You had a million opportunities to tell me, Genevieve. ”
His eyes flicked down to the paper in my hand. “And instead… you let me find out alone.”
“I… I was going to tell you.”
“Were you?” My back hit his wall, books from the shelves falling down at the impact as my heart hammered out of my chest. “You weren’t going to tell me,” he said, voice lowering into a deadly register.
“You were going to let me walk into tomorrow, into next week, into the rest of my life thinking—” He cut himself off, placing a hand by my head on the bookcase, trapping me. “That I didn’t deserve to know.”
My lips trembled. “Reid, please—”
“No,” he cut me off. “No more lies. No more tears. No more fucking excuses.”
“I—I didn’t know how to tell you,” I stammered, collapsing inward, my voice barely holding itself up. “I didn’t know when. I thought tonight I’d try—”
“Tonight?” His laugh was quiet and cruel. “After you thought of how things would have changed?” Another step closer. My spine pressed harder into the shelf. “After you realized I was the one paying my mother’s medical bills? After you realized I wasn’t the man you thought you left behind?”
His voice dropped, darker. “After all of that, suddenly I earned the truth?”
“Reid—”
“You weren’t going to tell me,” he said, quieter now, almost thoughtful in the most terrifying way. “You were going to bury it. The way you buried me.”
My chest caved. “That’s not true—”
“Then give me the truth, Vieve.” His hand slammed flat against the wall beside my head, making me jump. “For once in your life, tell me something that isn’t a lie. Something that isn’t you pretending.”
“If you knew the truth…” My breathing hitched, humiliation burning behind my eyes. “I knew you’d never forgive me. Not after what I let them do to you… after… after what I did to you.”
His jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as he dragged his gaze over my face like the sight alone was torture. “Forgiveness?” he whispered, almost laughing, but the sound held no humor. “That’s what you were worried about?”
I swallowed, barely. “Yes.”
“Don’t,” he said, stepping even closer, his breath ghosting my mouth, “pretend forgiveness is something you ever gave a damn about me giving you.”
My heart jumped to my throat. His voice dropped lower still.
“You’re still afraid I’ll rip apart the life you stitched together out of lies.
” I shut my eyes, but he wasn’t done. “That’s why you ran, isn’t it?
” His breath skimmed my cheek. “That’s why you kept him from me.
Because you knew the second I knew the truth… your entire world would burn.”
Something hollowed me out at his words, because in that moment, I realized I wasn’t afraid of losing the life I’d built, or the Newman name, or even Gregory’s hollow promises.
I was afraid of losing him again. In the same way I lost him the first time. I was afraid that once he knew the truth, he’d see the worst of me and he’d walk away again. And this time… he’d have every reason to.
“You don’t get to ask for forgiveness, Genevieve.”
“I know—”
He didn’t let me finish. “Do you?” he bit out, his wide frame caging me against the wall. “Because everything you’ve done, all of your choices, say otherwise.”
My lips parted, but nothing came out. “I could’ve forgiven the lies,” he murmured. “The running. The years of betrayal, losing the woman I loved.” He dipped his head, his mouth near my ear, his words carving me open: “But you didn’t trust me with my own son.”
A final tear fell down my cheek as he watched it. “And that,” he whispered, “is what I can’t forgive.”
I didn’t get much rest after last night.
Not for more than a few minutes at a time. Every time my eyes closed, I saw the results and was reminded how heavy the weight of it felt in my hands. All I could imagine was the look on Reid’s face when he realized I’d finally seen what he already knew.
Every time I drifted off, my mind dragged me back into that office, into the moment everything I’d been hiding detonated.
By morning, my thoughts were frayed. My eyes ached from holding in tears that never fell.
Eugene was already at the table when I came into the kitchen, purse high on my shoulder as my heels clicked against the floor. He was swinging his legs, humming something under his breath, blissfully unaware as he stuffed his face with French toast.
“Hi, Mom,” he mumbled as I smoothed a hand over his hair, placing a tender kiss on his forehead.
“Good morning, Lovebug. That looks yummy.” I forced lightness into my voice, though my throat felt dry.
He nodded eagerly as he took another big bite.
“Cara made strawberries too!” he added. “And we’re gonna read comic books later.”
I gave him a soft smile. “That sounds perfect.” Last night he’d told me all about the comic books Reid was letting him borrow to keep him and Cara busy.
Just like most of his gestures, I didn’t know what to make of it… but in the end, even with holding the truth for himself and with how busy he was, he still made room for his son even in small ways, subtle ways.
And I’d kept that from him.
“Have fun,” I mumbled against his hair before I pulled away. “Be good for Cara and stay out of trouble.”
Cara strode into the kitchen, apron around her waist as she tickled his side before she walked to the sink. “This little guy? Keeping away from trouble? Impossible.” He let out another soft giggle as my smile remained.
She wasn’t as bad as I was trying to make her out to be. She was actually a sweetheart. The bitterness of her replacing my presence in my son’s life was unfortunately blinding my perception of her.
“Everything all right, Miss Devereaux?” she asked softly, coming over with prepared coffee in a mug.
“I’m fine, Cara… Thank you for handling breakfast.”
“Of course. No worries. Mr. Kaufman is already at the office. Charles is waiting for you downstairs.”
Of course he was already gone. No reason for him to stick around after last night. “I figured as much…”
Crouching in front of Eugene again, I smoothed my thumb over his cheek until he looked up at me, syrup still clinging to the corner of his mouth.
“I’ll see you later, okay, Lovebug?” I said softly.
He leaned forward without prompting, wrapping his arms around my neck in a clumsy hug. I closed my eyes, breathing him in. I let the hug linger, wishing I could somehow store the warm, sweet scent mixed with a hint of baby shampoo and the feeling of his precious hug for later.
“Love you, Mom,” he mumbled against my shoulder.
My throat burned. “I love you, Lovebug,” I whispered, pressing another kiss into his hair. “So much.”
I stood before I could unravel completely, adjusting my purse and turning toward the door.
Cara watched me quietly, her expression soft, almost knowing. “Drive safe…” she said gently.
I nodded once, unable to trust my voice, and left before the weight of everything came crushing for the hundredth time.
The ride to headquarters passed in a blur of California sun, palm trees and glass buildings. Charles drove in silence, respectful as always. The city moved around us while my stomach twisted tighter with every block we passed.
When we pulled up to the tech campus, the familiar structure loomed overhead, cold and immaculate.
Inside, the lobby hummed with efficiency.
The security nodded as I passed, and as soon as I stepped onto his floor, Alexander appeared beside me.
“You’re needed in the main conference room. Meeting’s about to start.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
The morning unfolded in a series of meetings that felt like torture.