Chapter 8
I drove like a maniac, my foot heavy on the gas.
By some miracle, the roads were empty until I reached the main street.
My mind felt like it was unraveling, sanity slipping through my fingers.
All I wanted was to get back to my apartment, wrap my arms around my little boy, and breathe again.
He was my safe haven—my reason to keep going when everything else collapsed.
The bakery no longer mattered. I shouldn’t have considered keeping it in the first place. That was a mistake, and I needed to fix it immediately.
I pulled up in front of a five-story building owned by one of the most powerful families in town—the Millers.
Generations of wealth and influence were stamped into every polished surface.
The building had clearly been renovated, blending sleek modern architecture with old money arrogance.
I wouldn’t be surprised if they owned the entire block by now.
With a single-minded mission, I jumped out of the car and stormed inside to face the devil himself. But apparently, meeting the devil was just as difficult as requesting an audience with a king.
“Is he in or not?” I snapped at the front desk assistant. “It’s a simple question and no, I don’t have an appointment.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Carter,” she replied calmly, “but I can’t disclose that information. Mr. Miller doesn’t accept walk-ins. You can leave your name and contact number, and we’ll get back to you in a few days.”
Normally, I would’ve nodded politely and walked away. Not today. She’d picked the wrong day to stand between me and my breaking point.
I slammed my palm down on the desk, hard enough to rattle her computer. “Look, whatever your name is—I don’t have time to wait for some pointless callback when you can simply pick up the phone and tell him I’m here.”
I leaned in, baring my teeth, fury blazing in my eyes. Still, she didn’t flinch. Instead, she straightened her posture, folded her arms beneath her chest, and regarded me with bored indifference probably filing me away as just another unstable woman.
I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to continue. “I guarantee you he’ll want to see me. We’re not exactly friends. More like old enemies. He thinks I betrayed him, and I hate him for never believing me. Honestly, our fallout could probably earn a page in this town’s history books.”
I couldn’t believe I’d just spilled my past to a stranger.
To my surprise, her expression softened. She reached for the phone. My heart raced, half-expecting her to call security and have me dragged out.
“You can go through that walkway and take a lift to top floor,” she said finally. “Walk straight ahead. His secretary will let you in.”
“Thank you,” I muttered, moving quickly before she could change her mind.
“Oh, and Ms. Carter,” she added casually. “I do know who you are. Everyone does.”
“Great,” I murmured as I walked through the door.
The hallway was short and led to a spacious office with a single door. A woman, most likely his secretary stood as soon as she saw me. Without a word, she opened the door and gestured for me to enter.
I took a deep breath. I never wanted to see him again. But after leaving my father’s house, I wasn’t myself.
I was furious.
Unsteady.
Broken.
Ashton sat behind his desk, leaning back in his leather chair as if he’d been expecting me. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a shadowed line of skin meant to distract and damn him, it almost worked.
I stopped in the center of his grand, open-concept office. The space was impressive: a sleek meeting table, plush sofas, a private bar, and a high-end coffee machine that screamed indulgence. I was so distracted by the surroundings that I nearly missed the way his gaze lingered on me.
“We need to talk,” I said, my voice betraying me with a slight tremor.
He studied me in silence before standing. “Can I make you a coffee?”
I blinked. “Why would you do that?”
He let out a short laugh as he walked toward the coffee machine—the very one I’d been eyeing. “Because I’m trying to be polite. And because you look like you need it, considering you stormed my office after confronting me earlier today.”
“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. Believe me.”
“Oh, I do,” he said calmly. “Something happened that made you change your mind.”
He handed me a cup of coffee. “Drink.”
I hesitated but accepted it. A faint smirk crossed his face as he gestured toward the sofa. I hated feeling vulnerable in front of him.
Instead of sitting, I placed the cup on the table and crossed my arms. “Is the offer still on the table?”
“What offer?” he asked, feigning innocence.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“Why the sudden change? I thought your goal was to make my life miserable.”
“I’m done playing with the past,” I snapped. “Are. The. Offer. Still. Standing?”
He watched me intently, arms folded, jaw tight. “Tell me, Bailey..why did you come back?”
“What kind of question is that? You know why.”
“You could’ve hired a lawyer,” he pressed. “You didn’t need to come back. But here you are eight years later—storming into my life like a hurricane.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He shook his head slowly. “After what you said this morning, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s unfinished business between us. If you really betrayed me, why does it feel like I’m the one who broke your heart?”
“I don’t want to relive the past,” I said bitterly. “I was the town slut who cheated on you. You moved on. What else is there to say?”
“What I want,” he said quietly, “is the honesty you never gave me.”
I stepped closer until we were face to face. “Why now?” I demanded, jabbing my finger into his chest. “Because back then, you didn’t deserve an explanation. You broke our vow first—trust. Always trusting each other.”
My words hit him hard. He stumbled back slightly, blinking as if trying to steady himself.
Before he could respond, there was a knock at the door.
“Am I interrupting something?”
With our faces nearly touching, we both turned toward the sound of the voice.
“Lynda?” Ashton frowned. “What are you doing here?”
My former best friend stood in the doorway, her eyes flicking between us. “I thought I’d surprise you with lunch.”
“You know I don’t like surprises,” he replied sharply. “You should’ve called.”
Her smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. “Martha said you didn’t have any appointments—just an uninvited guest.” She gestured toward me.
I’d had enough.
“I’ll leave,” I said. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your lunch date.”
Ashton shot me a warning look. “We’re not finished.”
“Oh, we are,” I replied calmly. “You know where to find me when the documents are ready. I’ll sign this time. You have my word.”
I didn’t wait for his response. I walked past Lynda without looking at her and headed for the elevator, quickening my pace as footsteps followed behind me.
“Bailey, wait!”
I sighed and turned around.
“I know it’s awkward,” Lynda said nervously. “Between me and Ashton. I wanted to tell you, but—”
“What do you want from me, Lynda?” I cut in. “You used to hate him. You warned me he’d break my heart.”
“You were both too young,” she said defensively.
“Funny how you replaced me once I disappeared.”
“That’s a low blow.”
“Did you ever tell him the truth?” I asked coldly. “About the pregnancy. The abortion scheme. The cheating rumors. You’re the only one who knows.”
“It wasn’t my story to tell.”
I laughed bitterly. “And you think it’s ok to be with him without telling him the truth?”
Her face went pale. “We’re getting married next month.”
The words hit me like a punch to the chest.
“Is everything okay?” Ashton’s voice echoed down the hall.
“Yes, baby,” Lynda said quickly. “I was just saying hello to Bailey.”
The elevator doors slid open. I stepped inside and hammered the close button. As the doors shut, I caught one last glimpse of Ashton his icy stare locked onto mine.
After all these years, my heart still knew how to break for him.