Chapter Thirty-Three
GAbrIEL
What the actual fuck? It was all I could do not to pull Julian up by the lapels and bash his face in for having the audacity to sit there poking and prodding Charlotte like she was some kind of stage act for his amusement.
My hands fisted under the table, jaw tight enough to ache, as I sat through dinner counting the minutes until it could finally be over.
If I didn’t know Charlotte better, I might have believed she was unaffected given her smooth smile, polished voice, and her easy deflections.
But I did know better.
Her spine stayed ramrod straight through every smug, offhand comment, but her hand clung to her wineglass like it was the only thing keeping her from snapping. And I just sat there, seething, recognizing I couldn’t do a damn thing about it without putting both our careers in jeopardy.
When we stood to leave, mercifully ending the worst client dinner in the history of client dinners, Julian decided to cap it off by leaning in too close to Charlotte, his hand grazing down her arm like he’d earned the right.
My vision tunneled.
I was ready to throw it all away by putting my fist in his arrogant face. But she turned, her eyes slicing into mine with a look I couldn’t mistake.
Don’t you fucking dare.
So I didn’t. Barely.
By the time we stepped out of the restaurant, the city lights blazing against the night, the silence between us was deafening. Not companionable silence. Not the kind that settles after a long day. This was the kind loaded with unspoken words and tension pulled so tight I thought it might explode.
The doorman hailed a cab, and we slipped inside. Her brow ticked up when I rattled off the name of her hotel to the driver. Or rather, our hotel. A reminder of how I’d completely hijacked her trip.
The leather creaked under the weight of everything left unsaid. Charlotte pulled out her phone, checked a few messages, before sitting prim and still, her gaze fixed firmly out the window, the neon reflections skimming across her face.
I sat beside her, jaw tight, fists planted on my knees, doing my damnedest not to reach for her…or march back to the restaurant and commit a felony. Neither seemed like a smart play.
There were a thousand things I wanted to say, but I started with the only one that mattered. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.”
The lie was too sharp, too practiced. Deciding I could no longer stand our distance, I reached for her hand, but she jerked away.
“Don’t.”
That single word cut deeper than any of Julian’s bullshit had. If it weren’t for the driver glancing at us in the rearview, I would’ve vented my frustration. Instead, I stayed silent, jaw tight, while the city blocks blurred past.
By the time the cab rolled to a stop, the space between us felt unbridgeable.
Once inside, we moved wordlessly through the hotel lobby. The crowded elevator ride dragged on like a punishment. When the doors opened on her floor, I followed, every instinct screaming against letting her walk this off alone.
She spun at her door, her voice flat. “Just go, Gabe. I need to be alone.”
“No—I—”
She didn’t wait for the rest. Unlocking her door with a shaky hand and bolting inside, she dropped her purse on the threshold.
I didn’t think, acting on impulse, and followed her inside. I was in time to see her drop to her knees in the bathroom and heave, her dinner hitting the porcelain in brutal waves.
“Christ.” The sound of the door slamming shut behind me echoed around us.
I ran the tap until the water turned cool, soaked a washcloth, and knelt beside her when she took a seat at the edge of the tub. Wordlessly, I pressed the cloth to her flushed cheeks, wiping away the damp sheen of sweat and the last traces of a disastrous evening.
My throat tightened. Seeing her like this, all hollow-eyed, and spent, made me feel the most helpless I’d ever felt. This was the cost she paid for keeping her composure, for carrying herself like stone while that bastard chipped away at her.
She stood on shaky legs. Then she kicked off her shoes and brushed her teeth. By the time she was done, I could see the resolve start to return. “Please leave.”
“I can’t.”
She must’ve sensed the anguish in my words because she sighed. “Fine.”
I reached out with a shaky hand to unzip the back of her dress. “Here, let me.”
I was so damn thankful when she didn’t fight me. Gently, I guided the material off of her shoulders, down her waist, and over her hips, finally letting it drop to the bathroom floor. Her bra came next. She was so fucking beautiful it nearly took my breath. It was all I could do not to touch her.
But tonight wasn’t about me. It was about putting her needs first.
Taking her hand, I guided her into the room and moved to turn down the bed, I patted the mattress for her to get in and covered her with the comforter the moment she crawled under the sheets. I made quick work out of stripping down to my boxers and climbed in with her.
We both lay on our sides, facing one another, not touching, talking, or closing our eyes. My hands itched to gather her close, but I knew her tolerance of my presence was hanging by a thread.
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “This is too much.”
I let out a slow, unsteady breath. “I know.” It was too much. Too many feelings. Too much pressure between us.
“I can run you a bath,” I offered, the words low but steady, as if speaking them aloud could keep me anchored. “After…we can talk, or sit in silence. Just—” I broke off, pressing my thumb gently along her jaw. “Just let me stay with you tonight.”
She might have thought she was the only one fraying at the edges, but watching her take hit after hit from Julian while keeping her chin high had left me raw, too.
“Okay. I’d like if you stayed.”
Gathering her to me, I settled her against my chest, her head fitting under my chin as if it had always belonged there. Our breathing fell into rhythm, slow and even, like the world had finally gone quiet around us.
I wasn’t the type to hand over trust easily. But with Charlotte lying beside me, her skin warm against mine, I wanted to forget every reason I’d built those walls in the first place.
It wasn’t just the physical pull anymore though that alone was enough to undo me.
It was the way she carried herself with strength that didn’t need proving, the way her guard slipped when she thought no one was watching.
Every contradiction of her, the sharp wit and hidden vulnerabilities I’d been privileged enough to see. It was drawing me in.
And the realization hit hard. For the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to fall for someone. Fully, perhaps stupidly, completely. But naming it, even to myself, felt dangerous. As if saying it out loud might shatter whatever fragile, unspoken thing was holding us together.
So I swallowed down the thought, forced a steadiness I didn’t feel, and reached for the one thing that had been weighing on me all night.
“I owe you an apology for blindsiding you tonight and showing up at dinner. I had no idea—”
“How could you when I didn’t tell you? I should’ve been honest about my reasons for not inviting you.”
“Is it always that bad?”
“No, it was much worse tonight.”
“Because I was there.” It wasn’t a question. I cursed under my breath wishing there was a way I could hit the undo button. “Have you never brought anyone else to these dinners?”
“Wendall went with me the first time, and Julian was on good behavior.”
“We need to tell—”
“No one. If there is one thing I’ll ask you to promise, it’s that you won’t say a word to anyone about tonight. Not about dinner and not about here in the room. Nothing.”
“What did Julian say to you? Before we left?”
She sighed. “He told me if I wanted to secure the position of CEO, I could do it on my knees.”
This time I didn’t bother to keep my curse under my breath. “You shouldn’t have to fucking put up with that. You should go to the owners and—”
“And what? Tell them to fire their one-hundred-and-fifty-million-dollar-a-year top client? A week before my final interview?”
Fuck.
“I mean it, Gabriel. You have to promise you won’t ever say anything about this.” She moved back, breaking our connection so she could meet my gaze.
“Why would I say anything?” My jaw flexed, anger scraping raw at the inside of my chest. “Jesus, do you think so little of me that I’d use this to get ahead?”
Her shoulders tensed. “We’re competing for the same job.”
“Yes, and I’d never use something like this to get ahead. Not only because it would go against every core value I hold true, but also because this means something.” I motioned between us. “You mean something to me, Charlotte.”
Judging by her stunned expression, my words landed too heavy and too soon. She wasn’t ready to take them, and I should’ve exercised more patience. But it had never been my strong suit.
“I recognize this is fast, and I’m not trying to freak you out. Putting that aside, please believe I would never say a word to anyone about tonight. But this won’t stand. We have to do something about him. Figure out a way—”
“I have a plan. Sort of.”
“What plan?”
When her silence stretched, I knew she wasn’t about to share it.
“These trust issues,” I asked quietly, “they from your ex?”
Her mouth curved, humorless. “Probably. Yours?”
It wasn’t something I talked about with anyone. “Yeah.”
“Look at us. Open books.”
Wanting to keep the flicker of amusement alive, I tipped my head and kissed her shoulder, teasing, “Rock, paper, scissors for who goes first?”
The soft chuckle I got in return was exactly what I’d hoped for.
I slid an arm around her, easing her closer, thinking maybe these kinds of confessions would come easier if she was tucked against me.
“Yeah, well,” she murmured, flattening her hand against my chest, “mine’s a little less of a secret as you found out during dinner.”
“He cheated?”
Her sigh cut deeper than I expected. “Maybe. Maybe not. The timing was suspect, considering she was Austin’s nanny, but honestly, the marriage was over once I got a promotion and he didn’t turn out to be the partner I thought he’d be.
Guess he’d say the same thing, considering he wanted a stay-at-home wife and more kids. Now he has the life he always wanted.”
My chest burned because I knew there was more. “He married you knowing you wanted a career, though, right?”
“For years, we were on the same page. Both of us were working our way up the ladders in the software industry. Different companies, but the same grind, the same goals. We were balancing a family of three, juggling daycare pickups, late-night conference calls, and weekend deadlines. And somehow, it worked right up until I got a big promotion. Suddenly my title was bigger, my salary higher, and things started to unravel.”
“He resented you for it?” I’d known plenty of men in my life whose ego wouldn’t have allowed them to be happy for their wives.
“Almost like a switch flipped,” she replied softly.
“It wasn’t even about the job anymore. It became about control.
He started talking about having another baby, about me cutting back.
And when I said I wanted to wait, that I needed time to find my footing with the new responsibilities, he accused me of choosing work over family. In his world, I couldn’t have both.”
I couldn’t stop the bitterness in my voice. “But he could? He could chase his career without question, without compromise? What sense does that make?”
She popped up on my chest. “I think the idea of having both is something I haven’t quite stopped trying to prove to myself.”
I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’ve proven you can have both, Charlotte. You’ve built everything you have, on your terms.”
She gave a small, sad smile and lowered her chin, resting it on my chest. “Maybe. But I think part of me is still trying to prove it to him, to everyone…especially to myself.”
I didn’t need her to say more. It clicked. Her drive, her precision, along with the long hours and unshakable composure. The reason she wanted the CEO title wasn’t ambition alone.
It was validation.
And lying there with her, I realized how much I wanted to see her win, not only at work, but in a world that kept trying to make her choose.
“So it was over, and he moved on with the nanny.”
“Yep. Stassie isn’t bad as far as stepmoms go, and it helps that she already had a relationship with Austin, so I suppose I should be grateful.
” She toyed with the sheet, her voice distant.
“Whether they cheated or not didn’t really impact the end of our marriage.
It was over regardless. But still, I can’t imagine being blindsided.
Cheating has to be the worst thing you could do to someone you claim to love. ”
Acid crawled up my throat. I drew a breath. “I have something to tell you.”
Her eyes flicked up to mine. “What?”
“I ended my marriage after cheating.”