Chapter Fourteen #2
He looked genuinely shocked by her outburst, his dark eyes widening fractionally. For a beat, she braced herself for his usual sharp retort, the cutting sarcasm she’d grown accustomed to. But instead of clapping back, he simply nodded, a slow, deliberate movement.
That only tightened the knot of dread in her belly, a cold, hard stone that had been growing since she’d seen the portfolio. This wasn’t the Constantine she knew, the one who fought fire with fire. This was something else entirely, something far more unsettling.
He put the black portfolio aside, placing it gently on the counter beside him as if it held something infinitely fragile.
He shifted on his feet, a subtle, almost nervous movement, then straightened, clearing his throat.
The sound was rough, strained. She’d never seen him like this, so unsure of himself.
No, not unsure, but bereft, even distressed.
The harsh lines of his face seemed etched deeper, shadowed by an invisible pain.
His voice, when he spoke, was a monotone, devoid of inflection, each word dropping into the silence like a stone into a still pond.
“There are Rose’s custody papers granting you full custody, her father’s estate in a trust fund—again, you are the executor.
” He paused, a barely perceptible hitch in his breath.
“Full custody for the child you’re carrying.
” Here, his voice caught, a raw, unexpected break, and he bit down hard on his lower lip, his gaze flickering toward the vibrant green of a fern.
“There’s a trust fund for the child, just like you asked, and half the stock in Andros International is yours. ”
He said it all without a break, a relentless litany of facts.
Aliyah couldn’t make head or tail of it. Yes, her brain could process the words—custody, trust fund, stock—but the meaning refused to coalesce.
There was a loud rushing in her ears, a sound like the sea roaring, drowning out everything but the frantic thud of her own heart. The air in the greenhouse pressed in on her.
“Theo and I have found a good rehab home for Noor—she has been an alcoholic since Julian’s death. But I don’t want you to worry. I will look after Theo while Noor gets better.”
The words floated past her, distant and indistinct, like voices from another room. Her arms, almost without conscious thought, folded at her midriff, a desperate, protective gesture, as if that would stop her from falling apart.
Because finally, slowly, agonizingly, it was sinking in. Still, she heard herself say, like a naive fool, her voice a reedy whisper, “What are you saying?”
Constantine’s eyes, when they finally met hers, were filled with an aching sorrow that stole her breath.
“I’m releasing you from the contract, from the marriage, from everything.
” His voice was barely audible, a raw whisper.
“You are free to go back to your old life. I do request that you grant me visitation rights for the child, but I will never ask for anything more.”
The words hit Aliyah like a physical blow, a cold, sharp shock that stole the air from her lungs.
Her barely constructed, tenuous world—already teetering around her.
The rushing in her ears intensified, a deafening roar that made the vibrant greenhouse spin around her.
Her vision blurred, the bright, dappled light fracturing into a thousand painful shards.
Her knees threatened to buckle, and she instinctively reached out, her fingers scrabbling blindly for the cool, hard edge of the counter. The smooth porcelain felt like ice against her trembling fingertips.
Free? The word echoed through her, hollow and mocking. Free to go back to her old life? The life without him? The life where she’d been functioning, yes, but not fully alive. She’d closed herself off to love, haunted by the memories of the life she’d wanted with him…
He was giving her everything she had ever fought for—her freedom, Rose’s security, her own financial independence. And yet, it felt like the most devastating rejection of all.
He was giving her up. Again. Just as her mother had said he would. The old, familiar pain, the one she thought she’d finally buried, ripped through her, fresh and agonizing.
“Why?” she whispered, the single word torn from her. Her throat was tight, raw. “Why are you doing this?”
He didn’t move at her broken question, apparently content to keep the distance between them.
That cold mask of his was back and Aliyah felt the most overwhelming urge to tear it off with her bare fingers.
“This isn’t a real marriage,” he finally said.
“And I don’t want a relationship with you like this.
You came to me for help and I trapped you.
There is no bond between us, just a piece of paper.
You didn’t even trust me enough to even tell me about our child.
” At that last word, his voice broke, the cold mask slipping to reveal the anguish in his eyes.
Even then, it was only a moment’s glimpse. A trick of the light? Her foolish heart’s wishful projections?
No, they were not foolish yearnings. She was not that scared, naive girl hoping that he would choose her. That he would love her. Never again.
A fierce, desperate resolve solidified in her chest, pushing back against the crushing despair. He had come for her again, bound her to him, even if it was in the form of revenge. And not a day had gone by where he hadn’t shown his care for her in a hundred different ways.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the pregnancy,” she began, her voice still raw but gaining strength, knowing that his hurt there was more than justified.
“I meant to tell you, that very evening when you returned from London. Remember the special dinner I planned for us? But you were so badly hurt, Constantine. And I had all these new realizations, and it felt overwhelming. I just kept waiting for the right time, managing my own expectations.”
A self-deprecating scoff escaped her, dry and humorless. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what my mother said on the day of the wedding. Not just all the lies she told me in the past, but asking me to ruin you now, to use your weakness for me to make you pay…”
She rubbed a trembling hand over her forehead, the skin clammy. “Clearly she was…disturbed, and it made me think she might hurt us again. I told her she was bonkers to think I was anything remotely like your weakness, but she—”
“But you are, fterouga.” His words were a whisper, so soft they were almost swallowed by the gentle hum of the greenhouse.
Aliyah, immersed in her own whirlpool of thoughts and fears, almost missed them. Almost. The faint scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine seemed to sharpen, pulling her back.
“What?” she said, jerking up, pushing away from the counter, the cool porcelain no longer a comfort but a reminder of the distance between them.
Those words, so unexpected, so tender, traveled through her, filling her with a new, fragile energy.
“Say that again, Constantine,” she pleaded, her voice barely a breath, fear almost edging out hope.
“I said whatever else her delusions, Noor had it right about my feelings for you.”
“Yes, but that was back then,” Aliyah said, clinging to a rejection that hadn’t actually come, a past pain that felt safer than this terrifying, uncertain present.
He hadn’t rejected her this time either, only told her that she was free.
Free to go back to her old life. Free to make choices.
“Not now, right? Not when I ruined the future we dreamed of by running away without a word to you?”
He laughed then, a short, sharp sound that held no warmth, no humor.
If anything, it sounded broken, a jagged tearing sound that slashed her into ribbons.
It was a sound of pure, unadulterated pain, and it gutted her to see him like that, the strong, unyielding man she knew, fractured before her eyes.
“You were young, and your mother played on your fears, and the way I always talked about my ambition, my thirst for power, if I’m brutally honest, the hours I spent proving myself to Theo, I can see why you would have doubted me.”
“It was myself I doubted. Whether I was good enough to be loved, good enough to be chosen.”
The sound he made was a half groan and half growl. “No, fterouga, there’s no doubt about that. Not then, not now.”
“You said it’s only a paper between us. But it’s so much more and I’m more than content to build from there.”
His smile was all teeth and no humor. “I don’t want your crumbs, agapi.”
“Then what do you want?” she demanded, covering another step between them.
He looked up, his nostrils flaring. As if he too sensed the shift in the air, the new, different kind of tension pulsing between them. “I need you to choose me. Freely. Because you want this life. Because you want me.” A rough breath blew out of him. “Because you love me.”
The bitter taste in her mouth began to recede, replaced by a strange, overwhelming sweetness. The roaring in her ears quieted, and the greenhouse, with its vibrant life and warm, earthy scent, slowly came back into focus.
He wasn’t giving her up; he was giving her everything.
His trust.
His love.
His desperate, aching need for her to come to him, without coercion, without fear. With her heart open and trusting, ready for a lifetime.
Tears, hot and sudden, welled in her eyes, but these were different. These were tears of a profound, heart-shattering relief. He had seen her fear, her lies, her desperate need to protect him. And instead of anger, he had responded with this—this selfless, terrifying act of love.
He was willing to lose her, truly lose her, rather than keep her bound by anything less than her own free will. For anything less than her love.
“Why?” she said, greedy and resolved to the end. It felt like one breath, one look, one word from him could blow her away, or send her careening into his arms.