Chapter 7 #2
I reached out, rested a hand on his shoulder, and gave it one slow, patronizing pat.
“Why do you look so scared?” I asked, fighting the urge to smile at the way his eyes immediately flickered toward my hand.
I turned toward the counter and picked up where Rohan had left off with the coffee.
I was in the mood for something cold and bitter. “I just have a few questions.”
“I’m not scared,” he muttered.
From the corner of my eye, I watched him reach for the knife block. He scooped it off the counter and tucked it into one of the highest cupboards, pushing it farther back before closing the door.
Ah, men.
So wonderfully dumb, and tragically predictable.
I shook my head and focused on the coffee instead. “Where were you the night of my accident?” I asked, keeping my eyes on what I was doing instead of him.
He froze.
Pain flashed across his face. He took a step toward me, his voice cracking under the weight of his words. “I—I was following you. I was trying to stop you, trying to get you to pull over, but I…” His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I failed. I’m so sorry, Alessia—”
My brows pulled together, and I cut him off before he could sink any deeper into the apology. “Not that part.” I finally looked at him, my gaze hardening. “Where were you before that? Where were you when I was sitting alone at a party I’d spent a month planning just for you?”
His eyes widened, hope flashing across his face. His hand lifted toward me, fingers reaching before I stepped out of his reach. “Do you remember—”
“No.” The word sliced through his question. I turned back to the coffee maker, keeping my attention on the machine instead of him. “I know because Naija told me. Now answer my fucking question, Sterling.”
Silence filled the space between us.
I looked back at him. His face had gone pale. Dark shadows sat beneath his hollow eyes, and guilt seemed to weigh down every line of his face. His lips parted, but nothing came out. He tried again, only to stumble over the words. “I— It was…” His voice faltered. “I—”
I paused, tilting my head as I studied him. “Are you having a stroke?”
A startled, choked laugh escaped him. “What? No.” He shook his head once, dragging himself back into the conversation.
“We were celebrating landing the Aethelstan deal. It ran late, and then the team realized it was my birthday. I…” His fingers dragged through his hair, his gaze dropping briefly before returning to mine. “I completely forgot about your party.”
The apology tumbled out of him. “I’m so sorry, Alessia. I regret it more than I can put into words. I swear I’ll never make that mistake again.” His eyes searched my face, pleading for even the smallest sign that I might forgive him.
I narrowed my eyes and poured my coffee over the glass. “A work thing. So you chose your team over me. Got it.”
“No. No, that’s not what happened.” He moved closer, shaking his head quickly. “They kept insisting I stay. They’d been through so much with me, and they deserved to celebrate—”
“And I wasn’t?” I asked, the clink of the ice cubes punctuating the question.
He stopped dead. “What?”
I lifted my gaze to his, the irritation I’d been carrying sharpening into a pointed question. “And I wasn’t there when you were struggling?”
The question knocked the air out of him. He stood there without a defense, every excuse he’d been reaching for disappearing one by one, until the weight of what he’d done finally settled over him.
“You were,” he finally whispered, his head bowing beneath the weight of the realization. “You were with me. You never left my side.” His eyes lifted to mine, remorse written all over his face. “Alessia, I’m so—”
“You know,” I cut in, lifting the glass in my hand, “that makes this so much better.”
Before he could process the sudden shift in my tone, I poured the entire glass of coffee over his head.
Cassian jerked backward with a strangled gasp as the icy coffee soaked through his hair and ran down his face. He stared at his ruined button-up shirt in stunned disbelief while dark liquid dripped from his eyelashes, slid down his neck, and disappeared into the fine fabric.
Huh.
That was… very anticlimactic.
I’d spent more time making the coffee than he spent wearing it. He could take the shirt off, toss it in the laundry, and—boom—evidence gone.
I needed to do better research next time.
Cassian slowly lifted his head, blinking coffee from his lashes as he fixed me with a long, unreadable stare. “Feel better?” he asked, his voice surprisingly calm.
I clicked my tongue, staring at the mess I’d made with genuine disappointment. “Not really.” My gaze dropped to the coffee still pooling around his shoes. “Maybe I should’ve used hot coffee.”
He shook his head, sending droplets flying across the room. A few landed on my sleeve. “Alessia, can we—”
I silenced him with a single look. “Oh, I’m done with you.” I turned away and headed toward the hallway, my mind already running through revenge methods that couldn’t be undone with a simple shirt change.
I made it barely three steps.
Cassian moved in front of me, blocking my path. “We are going to have a complete conversation,” he said, his voice low. “You don’t get to leave just because you’re done.” He paused, his gaze holding mine as a flicker of something unreadable crossed his eyes.
I sidestepped him and kept walking.
Damn, I wasted perfectly good coffee. I should’ve just drank it.
Behind me, I heard him finally recover from his brief shock. “Wait, I’m talking—” He hurried after me and stepped directly into my path again, becoming a very tall, very damp human barricade.
“If you take another step,” he warned, lowering his voice as though he were delivering a serious threat, “I swear, Alessia, I will hug you. All of this coffee will end up on your clothes too.”
I tilted my head, unimpressed. “I have a taser in my bag and a change of clothes in my car. You really want to try me, son?”
His brows shot together. Whatever desperation had been driving him a moment ago now had irritation mixed into it. “Why are you calling me ‘son’? I’m your husband.”
“Eh.” I made another attempt to slip past him.
Cassian immediately shifted with me.
I went left.
He went left.
I went right.
He went right.
I stared at him.
He stared back.
I pointed at him with a warning look. “Don’t make me introduce you to the taser.”
He seemed to realize that arguing with me was getting him nowhere.
His shoulders dropped, the last of his irritation giving way to something far more vulnerable.
“Just listen to me. I’m sorry. I am so sorry, Alessia.
” His voice softened, each word carrying a weight that his earlier protests hadn’t.
“But please, don’t leave. You can throw another drink at me.
Tea, juice, whatever you want. You can do anything you want to me.
Just…” His voice faltered. He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving mine. “Don’t walk away.”
I paused.
A dangerous new thought began taking shape.
“Anything?” I asked, my voice turning deceptively soft.
The moment he heard the question, hope flashed across his face.
He latched onto it, nodding quickly. “Yes. Anything.” He took a tentative step toward me, his eyes never leaving mine.
“As long as you stay here, as long as you talk to me, and give me a chance to show you what you mean to me. You can do whatever you want.”
He hesitated, a flicker of caution entering his eyes. “Just… nothing hot. Other than that, anything.”
My eyes narrowed.
The more I learned about our marriage, the clearer the picture became. It had dulled me. It made me neglect the people and the work that truly mattered. It made me settle for a life of endless compromise with a man who didn’t even love me.
And what did I have to show for all those lost years?
Nothing.
Didn’t I deserve compensation?
Didn’t I deserve a little revenge for the woman I’d once been?
A slow, predatory smile curled across my lips.
Cassian noticed.
His confidence faltered immediately, and he took a cautious half-step backward. A flicker of fear crossed his eyes as he stared at me, suddenly looking far less certain about the deal he’d just offered.
My smile widened.
“Deal.”