Chapter 13 #2
His fingers closed around mine and guided my palm to his chest. His heart hammered beneath it, each beat hard and fast against my hand.
“I know how this sounds. I know what you must think of me now—that I didn’t care, that I dismissed you and walked away from what you were feeling.
” His eyes held mine. “And for that moment, I failed you. I did. But that moment wasn’t our entire marriage.
It wasn’t everything we were to each other. We were happy, Alessia.”
His hand tightened around mine, keeping me there with him.
“I made you happy, Alessia. I know I failed you these past few months, but those months don’t erase everything we had before them.
You are my priority. You’ll always be my priority.
I just lost sight of that. It won’t happen again.
” His lips trembled. “I’m sorry, Alessia.
I’m so sorry. I hate that I made you feel alone while I was drowning in problems I should have shared with you.
I should have told you what was happening.
I should have let you in instead of shutting you out and leaving you to carry the hurt alone. ”
His grip loosened, his thumb brushing once across my palm. “I can’t undo those months. I can’t give you back the nights you spent wondering what happened to us. But I can spend every day after this proving that you never have to question where you stand with me again.”
He leaned in, his eyes shining, holding my gaze captive.
“So please, Alessia. Stay. Let us fix this. Give me a chance to show you who I really am. Not the man drowning in stress, not the asshole you met in the hospital, not the selfish husband you’ve been hearing about.
But me.” His thumb stroked the back of my hand.
“Learn about me when I’m with you. Know me when I’m not fighting to keep my head above water. Please. Stay.”
I tore my hand from his and stumbled back, putting space between us. I drew in a sharp breath, forcing the tremor from my voice before looking at him again. Anger burned through me, hot enough to drown out every other thought.
“You’re doing it again. It’s still all about you, Cassian.
Everything needs to be catered to you, doesn’t it?
You don’t like the man you became, so you’re telling me to just…
disregard it. To forget that part of you ever existed because, what, ‘you weren’t yourself’?
” A harsh laugh escaped me. “If that’s who you become when a crisis hits, what happens the next time one comes?
What makes you think you won’t do the exact same thing? ”
He drew breath to answer, but I cut him off before he could get a word out.
“You know what I’ve realized? You don’t see me.
You didn’t care about this marriage when I was the only one suffering.
When I was lonely. You were perfectly fine then.
But now that the tables have turned, now that you’re the one losing something, you suddenly care.
Even in this apology, it’s all about your struggle, your regret, how you don’t recognize yourself. ”
My voice finally broke, betraying the hurt beneath the fury. “But what about me?”
I held his gaze, refusing to let him look away from what his choices had done to me. “You think you don’t recognize the person you became? What about me? Do you have any idea what you turned me into? The exact kind of woman I swore I’d never be.”
The confession tore out of me, fueled by months of a humiliation I couldn’t even remember. “I never wanted to be in a relationship where I had to wonder if the other person wanted me. I never wanted to make excuses for someone. I never wanted to bend myself into shapes just to feel seen.”
I was breathing hard, the air sharp in my lungs.
“But I did all of them. I did all of them for you. Because of you.”
The accusation landed between us, impossible to soften or take back.
“And then,” I continued, “you lied. You looked me in the eye and made me believe I was incapable of walking away from you. You made me question myself until I couldn’t stand the person staring back at me.”
I stepped back from him, putting another inch between us. “So you can keep repeating the same shit again and again, Cassian. But it won’t make a difference.”
His shoulders dropped, and he stood there with nothing left to argue. He dragged a hand beneath his eyes, then looked at me again, tears clinging to his lashes.
“Is there anything… anything at all I can say to make you stay?” The words were a raw whisper, stripped of all hope.
My teeth pressed together. “No.”
He swallowed hard, the muscle in his throat working. Then came a single, slow nod of acceptance. A tear escaped, tracing a path down his cheek, and he wiped it away with a harsh, angry swipe of his hand.
Something twisted in my chest at the sight—a pang I refused to name. I shoved it down, deep. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me about that night?”
He shook his head, his voice hollow. “You already know I followed you in my car… and then I found you—” He broke off, unable to finish, the memory visibly paralyzing him.
“That’s enough.” I stopped him. “You don’t have to say anything else.”
I stepped forward and reached for my suitcase, ready to leave at last, when he spoke.
“I shouldn’t have stayed out so late that night.”
I paused. “What did you say?”
He didn’t look at me. His eyes were fixed on the floor, his voice distant…
like he was confessing to himself more than to me.
“I shouldn’t have gone out with the team.
I shouldn’t have forgotten your party. I should have called you.
I shouldn’t have waited for Cassandra. I shouldn’t have brought her home.
I should have come straight home and talked to you.
I should have hugged you. I should have thanked you. I shouldn’t have—”
“Wait.”
My mind had latched onto a single detail he’d let slip.
“Did you just say you brought Cassandra here?”
He finally looked up, caught off guard by his own admission. “Yes.”
I stared at him for a long second before speaking. “I asked you for every detail of that night. How did this particular detail vanish from your story?”