11. Kim
I was furious.
The kind of furious that lived in your chest like a fist. The kind that made it hard to sleep, hard to think, hard to do anything except replay the moment over and over in my head. I'd told him. I'd been explicit. One rule. One condition. Keep Zoe out of it.
And he'd failed. Whether he meant to or not didn't matter. The result was the same. My daughter was now tangled up in a fake relationship with a fake future, and when it all fell apart—because it would fall apart, it always did—she would be the one left confused and hurt.
I had to call this whole thing off.
Even though I needed the money. Even though it had been a huge help, had let me breathe for the first time in years. Even though walking away meant going back to the constant math of survival, the juggling of bills, the exhaustion of never having enough.
I couldn't do this anymore. Not if it put Zoe at risk.
My first job was as a mother. I had to put my child first.
But doesn't putting your child first mean doing your best to provide for her? Doesn't it mean making sure she has food and shelter and stability?
No. It means protecting her. Protecting her heart. Making sure she doesn't learn to trust people who will eventually disappear.
I barely slept that night. Zoe was still feverish, restless, calling out for me in her dreams. I held her close, stared at the ceiling, and tried to figure out what came next.
The next morning, I dropped Zoe off at Dani's. She was still too sick for school, but Dani had offered to watch her, and I couldn't miss work. Not when I was about to blow up the only thing keeping us afloat.
"You okay?" Dani asked, studying my face. "You look like you didn't sleep."
"I didn't."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Not yet." I kissed Zoe's forehead, promised to be back soon, and headed for the door. "Maybe later."
The drive to the office felt longer than usual. I rehearsed what I would say. Firm. Final. No room for negotiation. I would march into Xavier's office, tell him the arrangement was over, collect whatever was owed to me, and walk away with my dignity intact.
I expected him to be solemn. Apologetic. Maybe even desperate, trying to convince me to stay so he could keep his precious inheritance.
I'd seen that desperation before. Different man, same script
I was prepared to shut him down. I had choice words ready. Pointed, cutting words that would make it clear exactly how badly he'd messed up.
What I was not prepared for was Xavier Dubois grinning at me like he'd won the lottery.
He was standing by the coffee machine when I walked onto the executive floor, cup in hand, hair still damp, looking insufferably cheerful. Like yesterday hadn't happened. Like I hadn't walked out on him with my sick daughter in my arms. When he saw me, his whole face lit up.
"Kim! Good morning!"
I stopped short. Blinked.
"Good morning," I said slowly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Beautiful day, isn't it?" He fell into step beside me as I walked to my desk. "Did you sleep well? You look great. That color really suits you."
I was wearing gray. The same gray blouse I'd worn a dozen times before.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Walking. Talking. Enjoying the company of my favorite secretary." He smiled, wide and warm and completely unbothered. "Coffee?"
"No."
"Suit yourself." He wandered back toward his office, humming something under his breath.
I stared after him, my carefully prepared speech dissolving into confusion.
What the hell was happening?
The morning passed in a haze of irritation. Every time I looked up, Xavier was smiling. Every time I passed his office, he waved. He was acting like yesterday hadn't happened, like I hadn't walked out on him, like everything was perfectly fine.
It was infuriating.
Around eleven, I had to bring him documents to sign. I walked into his office with the folder clutched like a shield, braced for... something. An apology. An explanation. Anything that acknowledged the disaster of yesterday.
Instead, he looked up from his laptop, green eyes crinkling with warmth, and said, "Ah, my favorite person. What have you brought me? Love letters? Declarations of undying devotion?"
"More documents to sign."
"Close enough." He took the folder, his fingers brushing mine. "You know, I was thinking about you this morning."
"You really shouldn’t have been."
"Oh, but I was. I was thinking about how efficient you are. How organized. How you always know exactly what I need before I need it." He leaned back in his chair, looking up at me with those ridiculous green eyes. "It's like you can read my mind. Very attractive quality in a fake girlfriend."
"I'm not your fake girlfriend anymore."
"Hmm." He tapped his pen against his lips. "We'll see about that."
I turned and stormed out of his office before I said something I'd regret.
The morning dragged on. I threw myself into work, trying to focus on spreadsheets and schedules and anything that wasn't Xavier Dubois and his inexplicable good mood.
He was the one who'd messed up. He was the one who should be groveling.
Why was he acting like he had some secret he couldn't wait to share?
At noon, my phone buzzed.
Xavier:
Meet me in the small conference room on 25. The one that's always empty.
I stared at the message. Every instinct screamed at me to ignore it. To stay at my desk and eat my sad lunch and pretend he didn't exist.
But curiosity won.
I took the elevator down two floors and made my way to the conference room he'd mentioned. It was tucked away at the end of a hallway, rarely used, the kind of room that existed for overflow meetings that never happened.
The door was closed. I pushed it open, stepped inside, and stopped.
Xavier stood in the center of the room. Behind him, arranged on the conference table, were three massive bouquets of flowers. Roses, lilies, peonies—an explosion of color and fragrance that must have cost a small fortune.
"Kim." He spread his arms wide. "I know I messed up.
I know I broke my promise. I know I put Zoe in a position I swore I wouldn't put her in, and I'm sorry.
Truly, deeply sorry." He gestured at the flowers.
"This is me, apologizing. Begging, really.
Please forgive me. Please be my fake girlfriend again.
I promise I'll do better. I'll be more careful. I'll—"
"What the hell is happening right now?"
He faltered. "I'm... apologizing?"
"With flowers."
"Yes?" He looked at the bouquets, then back at me. "Women like flowers. It's a thing. I read about it."
I stared at the flowers. What the hell was I supposed to do with them? Eat them? I lived in a tiny apartment. I didn't have vases. I didn't have space for one bouquet, let alone three. They were beautiful, sure, but they'd wilt within a week. Die. Get thrown in the trash.
Now, if it were a bouquet of carrots, I'd be excited. Or a bouquet of paid electric bills. Even better, a bouquet of a year's worth of groceries, then maybe I’d forgive him on the spot.
But this was Xavier's language. Grand gestures. Expensive displays. The kind of romantic apology that worked in movies and meant nothing in real life.
He was watching me expectantly, waiting for a response. Waiting for me to swoon, probably. To tell him how amazing he was, how touched I was, how of course I forgave him.
"Kim?" He shifted his weight. "This is the part where you tell me how amazing I am and accept my apology."
I looked at him. Really looked. He was so hopeful. So completely out of his depth. He genuinely thought this would work because this was all he knew. Money and flowers and charm.
He was trying. In completely the wrong way, but he was trying.
And maybe that was more than anyone had ever done.
"Fine," I heard myself say.
His eyes widened. "Fine?"
"I'll be your fake girlfriend again." I held up a hand before he could celebrate. "But the flowers stay here. I don't have room for them. Put them in your office or donate them to a hospital or whatever rich people do with excessive floral arrangements."
"Done." He was grinning now, that ridiculous sunshine grin that made him look like a boy who'd gotten away with something. "Thank you, Kim. I promise I won't let you down again."
"We'll see."
A small smile tugged at my lips despite myself. He looked so earnest, so determined. Like he was filing away every word for future reference.
We walked back to the elevator together, leaving the flowers behind. Xavier was still smiling, and I was still wary, but something had shifted. The anger was fading, replaced by something more complicated.
Something that felt dangerously like fondness.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. I had work to do—real work, important work. The Titan Ventures contract signing was scheduled for this afternoon, and everything had to be perfect.
I'd started preparing weeks ago, back when this deal was just another item on my to-do list. Before Zoe got sick. Before everything got complicated. Organizing documents, confirming details, and making sure every piece was in place.
I set up the large conference room with meticulous care. Water glasses at each seat, perfectly aligned. Documents in neat stacks, tabbed and organized. The projector was tested and ready. Everything exactly as it should be.
Xavier emerged from his office just before three.
"The investors are almost here," he said.
"Everything's ready," I assured him. "You've got this."
He met my eyes. Held them for a moment. "Thanks, Kim."
I stood beside my desk, straightening my blouse, preparing to greet the visitors with professional warmth. The elevator dinged. The doors opened.
Three men stepped out.
The first was older, silver-haired, distinguished. I'd seen him on the video call weeks ago. The second was younger, eager-looking, and carrying a briefcase.
The third…
The world stopped. Then tilted sideways, like someone had pulled the floor out from under me.
He was tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair with threads of gray at the temples that hadn't been there before. A strong jaw I'd once traced with my fingertips in a hotel room that smelled like his cologne. Blue eyes, I'd once been stupid enough to believe held love.
Six years older. More polished. But unmistakable. Unforgettable.
The man who'd promised me forever and left before Zoe took her first breath.
He was talking to Xavier, shaking his hand, saying something about being pleased to finally close this deal.
His voice was the same. Deeper, maybe. More confident.
But the same voice that had whispered promises in my ear, that had told me we'd figure it out together, that had sworn he'd never leave.
His eyes swept the room casually. Passed over me. Moved on.
Then snapped back.
Recognition flickered across his face. His brow furrowed slightly, like he was trying to place me.
He didn't remember. Or he wasn't sure. I was just a face from another life, a woman he'd left behind without a second thought.
But I remembered.
I remembered everything.
"No." The word came out strangled. "No, no, no..."
I was backing up. My hip hit the edge of my desk. Papers scattered. I barely noticed.
Xavier turned, concern crossing his features. "Kim? What's wrong?"
I couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything except stare at the ghost standing in the middle of the office.
Then I turned and ran.
Away from the ghost of every promise he'd ever broken.
Away from Cole Matthews.