CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO #2
She didn’t say it like a reproach. Just a statement. That was worse.
“I texted you around six,” she said. “No answer. Your last location didn’t move. I figured you finally collapsed somewhere in this mausoleum of an office.”
I glanced at my phone on the desk. “Battery,” I muttered.
“Assumed as much.” Julia handed me one of the coffees. Steam curled toward her chin. “I brought breakfast. And clothes—because unless Armani’s debuting a ‘slept in a chair after making terrible life choices’ collection, you need them.”
My throat tightened. I stared at her.
She frowned—a quick dip of her brow. “What?”
Everything. Nothing. My wife had tracked me down, packed fresh clothes, bought my favorite breakfast, driven into the city because she knew I’d worked myself raw, and now I had to tell her I’d kissed another woman.
I set the coffee down, untouched. Julia’s face shifted immediately—her eyes sharpening as she leaned forward. “What happened?”
No point hiding. “Lia.”
Her shoulders snapped square. “What happened?”
I pulled in a breath. “After Eric and Rafa left to get food, I went for a walk. I passed Lila’s office.”
She waited, the silence pressing.
“She was there.”
Julia’s humor drained away. “Why?”
“She’d found out about Cortez—through her mother, apparently. She was upset. Drinking.”
Julia crossed her arms, dark denim creasing at her elbows. “And you went inside.”
I hated her gaze—it could peel paint. “The door was open.”
“Continue.”
All the little legalistic defenses buzzed in my head—arrange the facts in my favor. I shoved them away.
“She kissed me.”
Her voice came, low. “And?”
One word. She knew there was more.
“I didn’t stop her immediately.”
Julia’s expression didn’t shift. “How long?”
“A few seconds.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Did you kiss her back?”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “Yes.”
Silence fell again. Dense, heavy. My chest tightened until I could barely breathe. Julia looked away, pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek. Then she nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
I wanted to scream at her. “Lia.”
She held up one finger. “Don’t.”
I fell silent. She moved to the window, staring down at the waking city. I couldn’t see her face—that drove me mad.
“I pulled away,” I said quietly. “Told her it wasn’t acceptable. Made sure she had a car coming. She left.”
Julia’s voice was eerily calm. “And you?”
“Went back to the guys.”
“No more touching or secret conversation after?”
“No.”
She nodded once. “Okay.”
Again with that word.
“Lia, look at me.” Slowly, she did and I wished she hadn’t.
There were tears in her eyes—molten against the taut curve of her lower lids—but none fell, held back by pure stubbornness. I stepped toward her, each footfall soft against the carpeted floor.
“Don’t.”
I freeze mid-stride, air catching in my lungs.
Her laugh was brittle, empty of humor. “See? Apparently you can listen when a woman tells you not to do something. I told you not to be alone with her.”
“I know.” My voice was small, hushed.
“Not because I thought you’d fuck her. I wasn’t worried about my husband cheating on me, Ethan. I was worried about Cortez. About manipulation. About allegations. About someone creating a situation that could be twisted against you.”
“I know.”
She exhaled, folding her arms across her chest so tightly I almost hear her bones creak. “And somehow you managed to create one all by yourself.”
Silence bloomed around us.
“I don’t know why I did it,” I admit, voice rough.
Her eyes snap up. “Then figure it the fuck out.”
I go still. The hum of the air conditioner fills the space between us.
“‘Because I’m tired’ isn’t an answer. ‘She kissed me first’ isn’t an answer. ‘I was stressed about Cortez’ isn’t an answer. Those are circumstances.” Her voice hardens, each word a hammer. “I want the reason my husband put his mouth on another woman.”
I have none. For once, words fail me. “I don’t know yet.”
“Then that’s your problem to solve.”
Panic flares in my chest. “Lia—.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
Her calm assurance should’ve comforted me, but it only made my heart hammer harder.
“I’m going downstairs.”
“Why?”
Her brows lifted. “Because I drove all the way into Miami with breakfast, your clothes, and enough coffee to resurrect Knox, and I’m not turning around because you decided to have a temporary lapse in fucking sense. Also, Serena is probably already here.”
I frown. “Why would Serena be here?”
“She works here, Ethan.”
Right. My brain, fogged by two sleepless nights, catches up. She shoves a garment bag into my arms, the fabric rustling.
“Shower.”
“Lia.”
“You smell like yesterday.”
I flinch. “That wasn’t a Lila comment, drama queen. You literally smell like you’ve been awake for two days.”
Despite everything, a twitch pulls at the corner of my mouth. She remained stone-faced. “Get dressed. Eat something.”
“And then?”
“Then you go be the terrifying attorney everyone pays obscene amounts of money for.” She stepped closer, close enough that I can see the raw hurt beneath her steel. “And I decide what I need from my husband.”
I nodded my throat tight. “Whatever it is.”
Her expression soured. “Don’t make promises while you’re scared.
Promises made because you’re afraid I’ll leave aren’t worth shit to me.
” She taps one finger against my chest: “I want honesty.” Another tap: “Accountability.” Another: “And I want you to figure out why you kissed her back before you stand in front of me and swear it’ll never happen again. ”
“Okay,” I whisper.
She turns to go, then pauses in the doorway. “And Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
Her eyes find mine. “If you ever find yourself alone with her again, don’t stand there wondering whether I’m going to be mad. Wonder whether you’ve become stupid enough to gamble your entire fucking life for five seconds you can’t even explain.”
The door clicked shut.
I stand in the morning light, clutching the garment bag. For several heart-thudding seconds, I can’t move. Then I look down at my wedding band: eleven years, two daughters, a wife who walked into my office after learning I’d kissed someone else and still made sure I’d eaten breakfast.
That’s the woman I married.
Somewhere along the way, I’d grown comfortable enough to forget how dangerous it is to take that kind of love for granted.