Chapter 14
CHRIS
Isat in my office, staring at the city below, the lights twinkling in the distance like a reminder of everything I’d worked for.
But it wasn’t the view that had my mind tangled, it was the same thing that had been gnawing at me for days: Beth.
I couldn’t shake her stubbornness, how she had refused the money, the help I had sent her way.
She hadn’t even bothered to call after rejecting the courier.
That wasn’t how she used to operate. Beth wasn’t some reckless decision-maker, or at least, she hadn’t been before.
I drummed my fingers against the glass, feeling a pulse of irritation beneath my skin.
How could she just turn her back on everything we’d built?
It didn’t add up, and I couldn’t understand it.
All the progress we’d made together, and now it felt like she’d erased it all like it had never mattered.
And the worst part? She had cut me out completely.
I couldn’t get through to her. Not with calls, not with money, nothing worked.
Maria’s voice over the speaker interrupted my thoughts. “Mr. Lewis, you have a call holding on line one. It’s Ms. Martin.”
I sighed, running a hand over my face. Of course, Jessica would check in.
She had been keeping an eye on the situation, subtly trying to guide things where she thought they needed to go.
Part of me appreciated that she was trying to help, but another part of me wished she’d back off.
This was my mess, not hers. Still, I couldn’t just leave her hanging. “Put her through.”
Jessica’s smooth, professional voice came through a second later. “Chris, how’s everything holding up on your end?”
I glanced at the clock, noting that it was well past working hours. “Same as yesterday,” I said flatly. “She’s still not answering.”
There was a brief pause, as though she expected me to say more. When I didn’t, she pressed. “Maybe it’s time you tried something more direct.”
I frowned. “I’ve tried everything direct, Jessica. She doesn’t want anything to do with me. I sent her enough money to live comfortably for as long as she needs, and she sent it all back without a word.”
Jessica chuckled softly, though it wasn’t really humorous. It was the kind of sound she made when she thought she was being rational. “Sometimes pride gets in the way of practicality. You can’t take it personally. You’ve given her more than enough opportunities to come around.”
My grip on the phone tightened. She didn’t understand. Beth wasn’t like some stubborn business partner I had to coax. She was my wife, or at least she had been. “She thinks she can handle this all on her own, like I’m some villain in her little escape narrative.”
Jessica made a sound like she was considering something, and I knew exactly what was coming before she said it. “You might be too close to the situation. Maybe it’s time for a neutral party to intervene. Someone who can make her see things clearly.”
“And who, exactly, do you have in mind for that?” I shot back, already irritated.
“It could be a lawyer, Chris,” she said smoothly. “Someone who can explain to her exactly what she’s walking away from. Or, you know, maybe a therapist. Someone she doesn’t have any baggage with.”
I wasn’t in the mood for this kind of advice. “We’re not bringing in lawyers or therapists to fix something that shouldn’t need fixing. She just needs to get over herself and realize she’s burning bridges that are going to be impossible to rebuild later.”
Jessica sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of someone dealing with someone who “just doesn’t see it.
” I hated when she did that, as if I wasn’t thinking rationally.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was enjoying this, watching me lose control.
That thought gnawed at me. I didn’t want to see her right now, but the door to my office opened, and there she was.
I hadn’t heard her knock or even announce her arrival.
Jessica walked in with that confident stride that always got under my skin in moments like this.
“You know I’m right, Chris,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she approached my desk.
“She’s playing this out, and you’re letting her get away with it by not putting your foot down. ”
I glared up at her, feeling my anger spike. “She’s not playing anything, Jessica. She’s being ridiculous.”
“Maybe, or maybe she’s trying to manipulate you into thinking that,” Jessica said, leaning in slightly. “But you can’t let her treat you like you’re the bad guy here. You’ve been more than reasonable.”
I couldn’t help but notice how she lingered near me, the subtle shift in her body language.
The familiar way her hand brushed against my arm as she moved around the desk was enough to make me tense.
This wasn’t new. She’d always been like this, toeing the line between business and something more, and I had always ignored it because things between me and Beth had been stable, until they weren’t.
I stood, putting some distance between us, but Jessica didn’t back away. Her eyes stayed on mine, that calculated gleam I couldn’t ever quite read. “I know how to handle situations like this,” she added, her voice lowering just a fraction. “I could help.”
“No, Jessica.” I shook my head, annoyed and on edge. “I’m not bringing you into this. Beth doesn’t need someone like you showing up and acting like this is all just some game.”
Jessica didn’t seem hurt by the rejection.
If anything, she looked intrigued by the challenge.
She moved closer, too close, her presence suddenly suffocating.
“I’m not trying to play games. I’m trying to make you see what’s actually happening.
Beth’s out there playing the victim, but she’s the one who’s being unreasonable.
You’re the one who’s trying to keep everything together. ”
She placed a hand on my chest, her touch light but unmistakable.
It wasn’t professional. It wasn’t business.
I could feel the heat of her fingers even through my shirt, and it made my pulse quicken for a second, a flash of something I didn’t want to admit to.
But I couldn’t afford that, not now, not with Beth out there, still making decisions without me.
I grabbed her wrist and gently pushed her hand away. “You’re crossing a line, Jessica.”
“Am I?” Her voice was teasing now, but I could see the tightness in her smile.
She liked this. The tension, the ambiguity, she thrived in it.
And it only made me angrier. I wasn’t going to be distracted by this.
Beth needed to be my focus. But damn if my head wasn’t swimming with conflicting emotions, anger mixed with a twisted kind of temptation I hated myself for.
“Just don’t, okay?” I took a step back, turning toward the window again, trying to gather my composure. “Beth’s my problem. I’ll handle her in my own way.”
Jessica didn’t say anything at first, but I could feel her staring at me, like she was trying to decide what move to make next. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, controlled. “I’m just saying you don’t have to do this alone. But it’s your call.”
I wanted to throw something. I wanted to tell her to leave, but I kept my mouth shut.
Letting her get to me would only make things messier.
She was good at making messes. That’s how she operated.
I needed to stay focused on getting Beth to stop this nonsense before things went too far.
Because at this rate, I wasn’t sure there would be anything left to fix.
The silence stretched between us, and I heard her move toward the door. Her heels clicked softly against the floor, and the door swung open. But she paused at the threshold, glancing back at me. “You know where to find me if you need help with this.”
And with that, she was gone, leaving me with the same anger and frustration that had been gnawing at me since the courier’s report.
Only now, there was something else simmering beneath the surface, something I didn’t have time for.
I needed to clear my head and figure out what to do about Beth.
And the only way I was going to do that was without any more distractions.
I sank into my chair, rubbing my temples, trying to shut out the echo of Jessica’s parting words.
She didn’t get to have that kind of hold, not now, not when I was already losing control of the one thing that had always seemed so solid before.
I had to fix this before it all slipped away.
I paced back and forth across the office floor, my mind a mess of frustration and unanswered questions.
The sun had gone down outside, and the skyline was just a dark canvas of shadows and flickering lights, but my mind was too tangled to appreciate it.
I couldn’t get Beth’s rejection out of my head, the way she’d turned away every attempt I’d made to make this easier on her, on us.
She’d left, plain and simple. And now I had to decide if I was going to chase after her, again, or if this was really over.
That’s what it felt like she wanted: for this to be over.
She’d made that clear. But I didn’t buy it. This was her making a point.
My phone buzzed again. I didn’t need to check to know it wasn’t Beth.
I picked it up anyway, glancing at the screen.
Nothing from her, as expected. Just another work-related message from one of the investors I’d met with the day before, checking in about next steps.
I shoved the phone into my pocket with more force than was necessary.
The sharp sound of my desk drawer sliding open made me jump.
I pulled out the bottle of whiskey I kept hidden there, something I hadn’t touched in weeks.
Tonight felt like the right kind of night.
I poured a generous amount into the glass, the burn in my throat the only thing grounding me at the moment.
I leaned back against the desk, swirling the liquor and staring at the city lights outside.
She wouldn’t last out there. Beth could pretend she was going to build this new life on her own, but it wouldn’t hold up.
I had given her everything, made sure she wanted for nothing, and now she was out there pretending that none of that mattered.
She was stubborn, always had been. This wasn’t about freedom or some grand escape, this was about pride.
And eventually, she’d figure that out, and when she did, she’d come back to what we’d built.
Or maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe I had pushed her too far this time.
No, I hadn’t pushed her. She made this choice on her own.
My jaw tightened. I took a longer sip of whiskey, letting the bitterness of it match the bitterness building inside me.
She left me with a note. No discussion. Just a clean break.
If that was the decision she made, then why should I be the one trying to fix it?
But that’s what I did, wasn’t it? I was the one always trying to smooth things over, to make everything right.
Maybe I didn’t need to. Maybe she should be the one to come back, begging me to let her in again.
I almost laughed at the thought. Beth wasn’t the begging type.
But she also wasn’t the walking-away type.
She wasn’t some damsel in distress or a rebellious teenager running from home.
She was just making a stupid, emotional decision.
And when she got tired of it, when she realized how good she had it with me, she would be back.
I was almost sure of it. At least that’s what I wanted to believe.
But I also needed her to know that I was continuing to think about her.
That she wasn’t just out of my head now.
Even if I wasn’t the one chasing her down, she still mattered to me.
Maybe she didn’t realize that. Or maybe she did and was too stubborn to care.
I set the empty glass down and grabbed my keys off the desk.
I wasn’t going to call her again tonight.
No more chasing. But maybe she needed something that wasn’t just another plea or a bank account.
She needed to see that even without chasing, I wasn’t going away that easy.
I’d show her what she left behind. And I wasn’t going to do it the conventional way. I had other tools at my disposal.
I drove through the city, heading for the florist that catered to the penthouse, knowing they’d be open late for people like me. I walked in without much of a plan, only knowing that I needed to send something more than flowers, more than a check, more than another text. Something personal.
The florist’s face lit up when she saw me, clearly recognizing me from previous deliveries to the penthouse. “Good evening, Mr. Lewis. What can I get you tonight?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Something impressive. And not just flowers. The biggest bouquet you’ve got. Something that screams... ‘I know what I’m doing, and I’m not done.’”
Her smile faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly. “I’ll have it sent to the usual address?”
“No,” I said, a bit too sharply. “Not Seattle. Send it to the address I’m about to give you. It’s a bit out of the way.”
She nodded, her hands already moving toward the back of the store, already picturing what would blow someone’s mind. “I’ll make sure it goes out first thing in the morning.”
I gave her the address, and the weight in my chest eased just a little. At least I’d done something, even if I wasn’t quite sure what it was going to accomplish. She would see it. She would know I hadn’t just rolled over and forgotten about her.
As I got back into the car, I felt the exhaustion hit.
I hadn’t slept well in days, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw Beth, saw the look on her face before I left for the trip.
The quiet disconnection between us, like she’d already left before she’d even packed her bags.
Maybe I should’ve seen it coming. Maybe I should’ve tried harder.
Or maybe I had tried too hard, and now I was left here, second-guessing everything.
And she was there, running a diner with her sister and not giving a second thought about what I might be feeling.
My hands tightened on the steering wheel.
It didn’t matter. This wasn’t over. Not until I said it was.
I just had to let her sit with her decision for a while.
And when she saw how different things were out there from how I had built things for us, she’d realize I wasn’t the villain in her story. Maybe she’d come back on her own terms.
But if she didn’t... I shook my head, refusing to follow that thought to its conclusion. She would. That’s all I had to hang on to. She wasn’t that far gone. She just needed time. Or a grand gesture. Whichever came first.