Chapter twenty-seven
Monique Devereaux
I sat in the study room long after Devyn walked out. The door had closed several minutes ago, but I still couldn’t move, think or breathe. I just sat there staring at the empty chair where my daughter had been sitting.
My daughter.
Those two words were enough to make my chest hurt. For fourteen years, I had imagined this moment. I had imagined seeing her, talking to her and holding her. I actually saw myself explaining everything to her.
In every version of the story, she was angry. I expected that. What I hadn’t expected was how much she looked like me. Or how much hearing her pain would break me.
“When you left… did you ever love me?”
The question replayed in my head for what felt like the thousandth time. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to block out the hurt expression on her face and in her voice.
Then I opened them again when fresh tears threatened to fall. Of all the questions she asked, that one hurt the most. But I understood why she had to ask me that.
How could she not wonder? How could she not question whether I loved her?
I had spent fourteen years proving the exact opposite. Eventually I forced myself to stand up. I grabbed my handbag and left the building. The walk to the car felt endless even though it was only a few minutes.
Once I got back to the hotel, I stepped into the suite feeling emotionally exhausted. Corbin looked up from the sofa and the second he saw my face, his expression changed.
He immediately stood up. “You look like you could use a hug.”
That was all it took. I crossed the room and practically fell into his arms. The tears came instantly. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly while I cried against his chest.
Neither of us spoke for a while. He just held me the way he always did whenever life became too heavy. Eventually my crying slowed down because I was tired.
“What happened?” he asked softly.
I released a shaky breath then told him everything that happened between me and Devyn. I knew she was angry with me, but I didn’t expect a confrontation. She had a ton of questions and released a lot of anger and tears.
I relayed every painful second of our meeting to him. By the time I finished, I felt completely drained.
“I think she hates me, Corbin.”
His arms tightened around me. “Noooo,” he soothed.
I laughed bitterly and said, “She absolutely does.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
I pulled back and looked at him. “How can you say that?” I asked.
“Because I know what hate looks like,” he said. He gently wiped a tear from my cheek. “That wasn’t hate.”
“Then what was it?”
“Hurt, baby. Your daughter is hurt.”
The answer came instantly without any doubt or hesitation.
“Hurt people say hurtful things,” he added.
Fresh tears filled my eyes.
“She asked me if I ever loved her.”
Corbin closed his eyes briefly. “Damn.”
I nodded. “That’s what I said.”
Eventually I sat beside him on the sofa. For several moments neither of us spoke.
Then Corbin broke the silence. “Think about where you guys started.”
I sighed. “What do you mean?” I asked.
“When you first saw her.”
I looked away and replied, “She didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Exactly.” His voice remained calm, patient and steady. “The first time you met, she couldn’t stand the sight of you.” That hurt because it was true. Corbin continued. “Then what happened?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” he said with a smile.
I sighed again. “She contacted me.”
“There you go.” I looked at him and he smiled. “Monique, she went from wanting absolutely nothing to do with you…” He paused. “…to reaching out and asking to meet.”
I hadn’t thought about it like that… not even once because I had been too focused on everything that went wrong.
“What if she never talks to me again?”
Corbin immediately shook his head. “She will. Just give her some time babe,” he advised.
“You don’t know that,” I countered.
“You’re right.” He smiled softly. “I don’t.” His honesty made me laugh just a little. “But I know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Your daughter is stubborn.”
I laughed harder then dried my eyes. “That sounds familiar.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You gave birth to her.” That earned an actual smile. My first one all day. Then Corbin grew serious again. “She’s hurting sweetheart.”
“I know.”
“And honestly…” He shrugged. “She has every right to be. She feels rejected.”
My smile immediately disappeared because he was right. Every bit of her anger and resentment as well as every painful question... she had earned all of them.
We were quiet for a few minutes. Then I asked the question that had been haunting me ever since I left the study room.
“What if she never forgives me?” I asked.
Corbin took my hand and squeezed it. “You don’t get to decide that babe.” The answer wasn’t what I wanted, but it was what I needed to hear. “You can’t control whether she forgives you or how long it’ll take for her to get there.”
I looked down at the floor as Corbin added, “All you can do is tell her the truth.”
The truth.
God.
The truth was so much bigger than she knew. It was bigger than Caine knew. I had a feeling that the hardest conversation was still ahead of me.
That night, long after Corbin and Lucas had gone to sleep, I sat alone by the window overlooking Zurich. The city lights sparkled below… beautiful and peaceful. Nothing like the storm inside my chest.
For fourteen years, I had convinced myself that staying away was the right thing to do. The selfless and loving thing. Now I wasn’t so sure because after seeing Devyn and hearing her ask if I ever loved her, I finally understood something.
The greatest mistake of my life wasn’t leaving. It was staying gone.