Chapter Thirty-One #2
It’s the quiet fear in the back of my mind asking, If there’s more love going to Caleb, is there less left for me? And the minute I think it, the more selfish it sounds even in my mind.
“That’s great,” I manage to say, pushing a bright tone into my voice. “You should spend time with him.”
He gives me a small smile, then adds, “But I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. I miss you.”
Those three little words nearly unravel me. I close my eyes tight to trap the tears, but it’s no use.
“I miss you too,” I whisper, opening them slowly and hoping he can’t see everything written in my expression.
A car horn blares from the driveway, causing us both to glance toward the front.
“Guess I’d better go. Can’t keep His Highness waiting,” Colt jokes, standing.
He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it tenderly.
My lungs seize like I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
“I’ll try to be home early tonight, okay?
” he says, hesitating like he knows this goodbye is a little heavier than usual.
“Okay.”
He turns to walk away, and the second his hand slips from mine, something inside me panics.
“I love you,” I blurt out, the words escaping before I can reel them in. They sound too sharp, too desperate, too much.
Colt freezes mid-step, then turns and strides back toward me. He leans in and kisses me hard, his lips pressing against mine with a mix of urgency and reassurance. Pulling back, he rests his forehead against mine. “I love you too, baby. Until the end of time. You know that, right?”
I nod, unable to speak through the lump in my throat.
He kisses me again, softer this time, then turns and walks out.
I wait until I hear the front door click shut and then my body folds over the table as the sobs rip through me—silent at first, then shaking and raw.
Because loving someone doesn’t always mean you get to keep them.
***
Colt didn’t make it home early last night like he said he would.
In fact, he came in well past three in the morning—later than usual and clearly buzzed.
Apparently, after seeing Caleb, Hux took him out to a bar to celebrate.
They had security, and aside from a few eager fans, the night was uneventful for them.
But for me?
I spent the night in the bath with a glass of wine in hand and “All by Myself” playing on repeat like some tragic Bridget Jones cliché. I cried quietly, letting the steam blur my vision and the water numb the ache in my chest.
I was already in bed when he stumbled in, murmuring apologies as he climbed in beside me.
He said he couldn’t say no to Hux, not when they weren’t celebrating his birthday tonight, and this was his chance to spend time with him.
I nodded, told him it was fine. He should do whatever makes him happy.
And clearly, right now, that doesn’t include me.
I wake up emotionally spent. There’s a dull weight pressing into my chest, one that hasn’t lifted in weeks. Colt’s beside me, out cold, groaning softly as the light creeps into the room.
We didn’t touch last night. He passed out as soon as he hit the pillow. I could have curled into him, but I didn’t. I wasn’t sure if he’d welcome it, or if he’d even notice.
Lately, it feels like he’s slipping away—piece by piece.
He stirs again, groaning, “Mace…”
My stomach turns.
Did he just say her name?
I glance over, and my heart stutters. His hand shifts downward, adjusting his obvious erection. My breath catches.
A dream. He’s dreaming of her.
I press my lips together to stop them from trembling. I don’t want to make assumptions, but that doesn’t stop the ugly twist in my gut.
Colt groans again, rubbing his face, and then slowly blinks his eyes open. “Man… Hux really fed me too much of your old friend Jack last night.”
I force a tight smile. “So it seems.”
He turns to face me, his voice still hoarse. “How was your night? I’m sorry I got home so late.”
I nod. “Fine. I worked on some PR emails.”
Colt reaches out and runs his knuckles gently down my cheek. I close my eyes for a second, letting myself lean into the touch. He leans forward, resting his forehead against mine.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
“It’s okay,” I reply, but even I hear the lack of conviction in my voice.
He sighs and pulls back slightly. “I told Mace I’d come by later.
She needs help setting up a new TV unit or something.
I don’t want Caleb stuck without a way to watch his shows.
But I’ll be back for my birthday dinner, I swear.
I’ll spend the morning with you, then head over at two-ish. Just a couple hours, tops.”
My chest tightens, but I nod. I want to say no. I want him to choose us for a whole day. But how can I tell him not to go when it’s about helping his son?
“Sure,” I say, trying not to sound defeated.
He smiles and kisses me quickly before standing and heading for the ensuite. I glance down automatically.
Still hard.
Still thinking of her?
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Don’t do this, Dee. Don’t spiral.
The shower turns on, so I slide out of bed and make my way downstairs. Coffee. I need caffeine to keep myself from overthinking. Again.
If that’s all it is.
I brew the coffee and sit at the table, staring out the window at the snow falling steadily outside. My heart’s heavier than it’s ever been. Maybe Colt really would rather be with them—Macy and Caleb. Perhaps they feel more like family to him than I ever have.
He walks in, toweling his hair dry, wearing only jeans. His chest is still damp, and my eyes involuntarily roam over his perfect body. Even with the ache between us, I can’t pretend I’m not still drawn to him.
“Hey,” he says, grinning. “I was wondering where you went. Thought you might’ve joined me in the shower.”
I smile faintly and look away. “Figured you’d need coffee more than company this morning.”
“God, yes.” He tosses the towel on the counter and grabs a cup.
I take a breath and choose my words carefully. “If you want, you could head to Macy’s earlier. I know you probably want to spend your birthday with the people you love.”
He stills, turning to face me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I keep my gaze focused on my coffee. “You said you kinda love Caleb. I figured you’d want to spend more time with him.”
“That’s not what you said,” he replies, his voice low and firm. “You said people I love. So who else are you referring to, Dee?”
I shake my head. “Forget it. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Don’t lie to me.” His voice is sharp now. “You think I don’t love you?”
I flinch at the edge in his tone, but don’t answer.
“Dammit, Dee.” His hand slams down on the counter, hard. I jump, coffee splashing over the edge of my mug. “I love you. I want to spend my day with you, but if you’re going to sit there and accuse me of loving someone else—”
“Do you?” I whisper.
He freezes. “Do I what?”
I finally meet his eyes. “Do you love someone else?”
There’s a beat of stunned silence before he exhales sharply and rakes a hand through his wet hair. “Jesus, Dee. You really think I’m falling for Macy?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“I’m not doing this.” He turns and hurls his coffee mug down onto the counter. It shatters on impact, ceramic fragments skidding across the surface. Coffee splashes everywhere. “I’m not doing this shit with you again.” Then he storms out of the kitchen.
The front door slams shut so hard it rattles the frame.
I sit frozen for a second, the echo of his exit pulsing through me. Then, slowly, I rest my head in my hands. Silent tears slip down my cheeks and land on the table.
He didn’t say no.
He didn’t tell me I was wrong.
But he didn’t say yes either.
I stay like that for a long time, my breath shaky, heart pounding, wondering what the hell just happened. Wondering if I lost him the second Macy walked through our door.
But then something shifts.
A whisper of a memory. I once thought to be without him would be the annihilation of me…
That still rings true.
But maybe what’s worse is giving up without a fight.
I lift my head, wiping my cheeks with the backs of my hands. I think of Anna. Of her faith in me. I think of Colt’s smile when he’s truly present. Of the man who said until the end of time.
I love him too much to let this fall apart without trying.
Tonight is his birthday. I’ll cook his favorite meal. I’ll wear the lingerie from our wedding night and remind him of what we share. Remind him who he married, and why.
A spark ignites in my chest.
Not desperation this time.
Determination.
I’m not going down without a fight.