37. Genevieve
Chapter thirty-seven
Genevieve
“Have a seat at booth four. He’ll be out shortly.”
The guard held the door open with one hand, the other already reaching for the clipboard behind me that had all the other scheduled visits.
I stepped inside the room and the temperature dropped instantly. Goosebumps crawled up my arms as I wrapped them around myself. My heels clicked against the stone floor, each sound louder than the next.
Rows of glass partitions stretched down the length of the wall. Phones hung from thick cords beside each divider, the metal stools bolted so tightly to the floor, even the furniture was imprisoned.
There was no doorway to the other side. No way to reach him. Just a barrier of reinforced glass and steel stretched to the ceiling. I took a seat at the booth, placing my hands in my lap, but they wouldn’t stay still.
I smoothed my dress, twisted my fingers, rubbed my sweaty palms, but nothing helped. The silence was almost as loud as my impatience.
Soon enough though, a door buzzed somewhere behind the glass. There were heavy footsteps. Two guards appeared.
And then Reid.
He stepped into the room on the other side.
Dressed in a grey long-sleeve, sleeves shoved up to his forearms, and grey state-issued cargo pants sitting low on his hips.
The slight scruff along his jaw made him look older, more dangerous.
Five o’clock shadow, steel in his eyes, and not a single piece of him looked broken.
My breath caught as his eyes locked onto mine.
Weeks without him, and he managed to look exactly the same and completely different at the same time, nothing like the prisoner I had dreams I’d face.
He finally lowered himself onto the metal stool, his eyes never leaving mine. For a full second, neither of us moved.
Then, without looking away, he reached for the phone on his side of the glass. I swallowed, picked up mine, pressed it to my ear with fingers that wouldn’t stop trembling.
His voice hit me instantly, stirring something deep inside me. “You shouldn’t be here.”
My throat tightened. “Reid…”
He didn’t blink. The man on the other side of the glass wasn’t the one from his penthouse in California. Or the one who held me in the kitchen, pulling me into his world again.
This Reid was closed off and stoic, staring at me emotionlessly instead of through me like he always did.
I forced air into my lungs. “I—I needed to see you.”
His jaw flexed once in annoyance, a subtle tell he could never hide from me. “Genevieve.” He said my name like a warning. “This isn’t a place you belong.”
“Neither do you,” I shot back just as quickly.
He sighed. “Don’t start.”
“Reid, you know I was worried about you.”
His jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”
“You’re in prison.”
“I’m aware of that fact.”
I sighed at his words, pressing further despite him clearly not wanting to hear me. “How long… how long will you be here?”
He leaned back slightly, gaze flicking downward before returning to mine. “A while.” His tone didn’t hold any fight, any pushback; it was just accepting, like he’d already made peace with being put away for God knows how long.
“Are they treating you okay?” I whispered, my hand twitching in my lap. “Did they tell you anything else? Are you—”
“Vieve,” he muttered into the phone, cutting my rambling short. “Don’t. I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“How am I not supposed to?” I asked, my voice coming out raw, cracking on the end as tears filled my eyes.
It felt like the room was closing in almost. My throat closed, heat rushing to my face, and before I could stop it, another tiny cry escaped.
I pressed my free hand to my mouth, trying to catch it, trying to keep it in, but it only made the tears spill faster.
I cried in a way I didn’t want him to see. Like I did every night crying myself to sleep next to my fiancé.
His fingers tightened around the phone. His eyes dropped to my trembling hand, then dragged slowly back up to my face… and whatever mask he’d tried to wear slowly fell apart.
“…Genevieve.” I shook my head, wiping my tears as they never stopped. “Vieve, look at me.”
I lifted my gaze slowly, tears clinging to my lashes, my chest rising and falling in unsteady little breaths.
He leaned just a little closer to the glass, arms resting on the table, dropping his voice low enough so it was just for me to hear.
“I’m right here, baby,” he murmured. “You hear me? I’m okay.”
My breath shuddered. “I’m scared, Reid.”
“I know,” he whispered, eyes softening in spite of himself. “But you’re okay. Just breathe.”
My fingers curled tighter around the phone. “I don’t—I feel like I’m losing you again.”
Something shifted in his expression, and then he exhaled slowly through his nose, anchoring himself. “You won’t,” he said quietly.
It was a half-truth, a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep in his predicament. But it was all he could give me.
“I know I shouldn’t worry,” I whispered, wiping under my eye with the heel of my hand, trying to keep my voice from breaking.
“Cara’s been worried about us. Eugene’s been clingy lately.
He keeps asking when you’re coming back and—” I cut myself off, breath shaking.
Reid didn’t look away, listening to every word. “He misses you too, you know.”
His fingers tightened the smallest amount around the phone, watching me with that unreadable expression.
“He had his soccer game yesterday. He wanted you there, I’m sure. He scored a goal,” I whispered after a shaky inhale. “He was trying so hard. All that running and falling over chasing the ball helped it roll in one way or another.”
That earned me the smallest smile from across the glass, my heart swelling at the sight of it.
“I told you he gets his stubbornness from you,” he muttered, and I rolled my eyes at his antics, a small smile gracing my lips as I unintentionally leaned into the phone.
“I miss him,” he continued quietly. “More than I want to admit in here.” He didn’t say I miss you, but I heard it anyway through my delusion.
Silence stretched between us again… Then, before I could think to stop it, my hand lifted slow and pressed against the glass between us.
I didn’t even know why I did it. Maybe because I hadn’t touched him in weeks and this was the closest I’d ever get again.
Reid went completely still as his gaze dropped to my hand. Then slowly, and deliberately, he lifted his own and set it against the glass opposite mine.
Our palms lined up through the barrier, not touching, but touching. For the moment, I convinced myself it was enough.
“…Are you getting enough sleep?” he asked, his possessive tone running straight through me.
I shook my head gently.
His jaw shifted. “Eating?”
That I responded to honestly. “Yes.”
“Don’t lie to me, Vieve,” he pressed, and I rolled my eyes, a smile coming to my lips at his complete seriousness, my hand toying with the glass separating our hands, trying to feel his warmth.
“I’m not, I promise.” It was the truth. I could choose not to sleep, but I had no choice but to eat. Especially with how hungry the baby—
My hand paused on the glass and Reid instantly noticed. “What is it?”
Realization dawned on me. I still needed to tell him I was pregnant. I dropped my eyes to the table, blinking hard, my hand slowly lowering, the soft moment between us gone.
He was tense on the other side of the glass.
“Reid,” I muttered before meeting his eyes once more, “I need to tell you something.”