CHAPTER 17
One Night That Changes Everything
Helen
A week passed.
Josh didn't leave the city. Helen knew because Richard told her — "He's still here. Renting an apartment across town. Asking about you."
She told herself she didn't care. She told herself she was glad he was gone. She told herself a lot of things that weren't true.
The hotel was surviving. The investors Josh had sent were legit.
Two of them had already signed preliminary agreements to provide emergency funding.
For the first time in years, Helen could see a path forward.
And she owed it to Josh. The man who had come to destroy her.
The man who had burned down his own empire instead.
One night, she couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed her keys, walked out of the hotel, and got in her car.
She didn't know where she was going until she got there.
The apartment building was modest. Nothing fancy. Three stories. Brick exterior. A small courtyard with a dying tree.
She sat in her car for ten minutes, trying to talk herself out of going inside. He lied to you. He tried to take everything. You don't owe him anything.
But her feet carried her to the door anyway.
She knocked.
Josh opened the door.
He looked different. Thinner. Paler. Dark circles under his eyes that matched her own. He was wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt — not the expensive clothes he'd worn at the hotel. Just a man who had lost everything.
"Helen," he said. His voice was hoarse.
"Can I come in?"
He stepped aside.
The apartment was small. One bedroom. A couch that had seen better days. A kitchen with cheap cabinets. A stack of books on the coffee table.
"I wasn't sure you'd ever want to see me again," he said.
"I wasn't sure either."
They stood in the small living room, the silence stretching between them.
Then Helen said, "Richard told me about the investors. The ones you sent."
Josh nodded. "They're good people. They won't try to take control. They just want to help."
"Why?"
"Because I asked them to."
"Why?"
He looked at her. "Because I couldn't stand the thought of you losing everything because of me."
Helen's throat tightened.
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know."
"You didn't have to do any of it. Resigning. Walking away. Losing everything."
"I know."
"So why did you?"
Josh took a step closer.
"Because you're the first person who ever made me feel like I wasn't empty. And I'd rather be poor and alone with the memory of you than rich and successful and never have met you at all."
Helen's eyes filled with tears. "That's the most romantic and the most stupid thing anyone has ever said to me."
Josh almost smiled. "I'm not good at this."
"At what?"
"Feelings. Words. Being honest. I've spent twenty years training myself not to feel anything. And now I'm feeling everything, and I don't know what to do with it."
Helen stepped closer.
"Try," she said.
"Try what?"
"Try being honest. Just for tonight. No masks. No games. Just you."
Josh looked at her for a long moment. Then he said, "I'm terrified."
"Of what?"
"Of you. Of this. Of the fact that I'm standing in my crappy apartment with a woman I have no right to even look at, and I've never wanted anything more in my life."
Helen reached out and touched his face. His stubble was rough under her fingers. His eyes were dark and wet and scared.
"I'm terrified too," she said.
"Why?"
"Because I should hate you. You tried to destroy everything I love. You lied to me. You made me feel stupid and naive."
"But you don't hate me."
"No," she admitted. "I don't."
Josh's hand came up to cover hers.
"What do you feel?" he asked.
Helen looked into his eyes. "I feel like I'm standing at the edge of something. And I don't know if it's a cliff or a door. And I don't know if I'm going to fall or fly. And I'm scared."
"Me too."
"Then let's be scared together."
She kissed him. It wasn't soft. It wasn't tentative. It was a kiss that said I'm choosing this anyway, even though I shouldn't, even though you might still break me.
Josh made a sound — something between a gasp and a surrender. His hands found her waist. Her back. The curve of her jaw. He kissed her like he was drowning and she was air.
The apartment was small and cheap and nothing like the luxury suites they were both used to. But standing there, in the tiny living room, kissing a man who had lost everything for her —
Helen had never felt more at home.