Chapter 35
Tilly: Shout if you need rescuing.
Chloe: I’ll be fine, thanks. Chase said Zeke is at an event tonight.
Tilly: How are you feeling after that bombshell earlier?
Chloe: Just peachy.
Tilly: Sarcasm game strong. I respect it.
CHLOE
I stare at the contents of my purse, my hand freezing above it with a bottle of perfume from the dresser.
Two little blue lines wink up at me, taunting me.
I cast the bottle in with a light clink and snap it shut.
Plunking myself down on the soft, white comforter, I sit and survey the room that has been mine for the past few months.
My heart hurts to be here, with so many memories of Zeke and Diego plastered around the apartment in vivid color.
It feels more like home than my crappy old apartment ever did.
Most of my things are boxed up and ready to be collected by the movers next week, and all that remains are a few cosmetics on the dressing table.
Life is about to change irrevocably for me, and honestly?
I’m terrified. I’ve barely managed to look after myself for the past few days, and now I find myself staring down the barrel of a positive pregnancy test. Diego’s big brown eyes swim into my mind and a little sob breaks free.
I wonder if our child will look like him.
I’ve been attempting to console myself for the past few hours that no matter how dire things between Zeke and I may be, I know he’ll be an incredible father.
I’ve seen it with my own eyes. But mostly, I just feel incredibly sad that we won’t be doing it together, as a family should.
“Chloe?!” My heart freezes as I hear a loud yell from the lobby downstairs, fingers curling into the sheets.
Dread fills my every pore as I consider what to do.
I’m not strong enough to face him yet; I’m not ready to speak to him.
For a mad moment, I consider crawling under the bed and pretending I don’t exist.
A frantic, shouted curse follows, along with heavy footsteps up the stairs.
My heart thunders in my chest, every muscle locking as they approach quickly.
They halt outside the door to my room that shows a sliver of light through the crack, and I hold my breath.
It swings open, and heartbreak washes over me as I drink in the distraught face of the man I love more than life itself.
“Chloe.” His breath pulls heavily into his chest, his warm chocolate eyes wide as he stares at me.
His dark inky hair is mussed like he’s been tugging at it, and his face looks drawn and tired, but somehow still breathtakingly beautiful.
Pain jolts me into action, thick and heavy in my chest as I stand and snatch up my purse, walking over to the dresser and beginning to throw what little belongings I have left out into it.
“Chloe, stop. Please.” Muffled footsteps approach and I spin, flinching away as he reaches for me. Pain streaks across those stormy irises, and his hand stills above my arm. “Please Chloe, hear me out.”
“There’s nothing to say, Zeke,” I choke out, swiping at my cheeks with the sleeve of my jumper.
“Yes, there is! I fucked up, Chloe. I fucked up so badly I want to throttle myself, but I need you to listen to me. I know everything and I’m sorry.”
I freeze, my eyes wide as I stare up at him. His hands close gently around my upper arms and my lashes flutter shut for a moment when the heat of his palms bleeds through the fabric.
“Chloe, look at me,” he breathes, his fingers flexing.
I open watery eyes and stifle a sob as I see his pained expression, so sincere it goes right through me.
“I know all about what Sweeney did. How he framed you. That he manipulated this whole thing to get back at you and I’m so sorry I didn’t believe it,” he repeats gruffly, lifting one hand to cup my cheek.
I can see the truth of his words, see the way he is looking at me like I’m the center of his universe—just like he used to.
Relief seeps into my bones, my shoulders sagging as the realization hits that he sees it now.
But he didn’t believe me, and that is the problem.
Something breaks a little more inside me, but despite myself, I lean into his hand, a flicker of hope dancing to life.
“You hurt me.” The words are a barely audible rasp.
“I know baby, and I’m not saying this excuses it but when I found out, I was already on my way to tell you that I didn’t care.
I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life making that up to you if you’ll let me.
” The soft rumble wraps around my skin, caressing it like an old friend.
My eyes flare wide as I stare at him. Forever?
“I love you, Chloe. I’m completely and totally fucking in love with you, and I have been for a long time, I was just too fucking stupid to see it.
” Light sparkles in his mahogany gaze as his brows knit together.
Searing, bright, glowing warmth floods my chest. Fresh tears leap to my eyes for a whole new reason and my fingers curl into the lapels on his tuxedo so tightly my nails smart. “You love me?” I whisper, joy colliding with hurt and anger and fear in my chest.
“With everything I have, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same back, I—”
“I do,” I cut him off with a small sob, and watch his face morph into a dazzling grin that steals the breath from my already tight chest. “I do, Zeke.”
“Yeah?” he breathes, his arm sliding from my shoulder to wrap around my waist.
“Yes, you fucking idiot.” I let out a shaky, watery laugh and slap his chest.
I’m weak for this man and I don’t even care.
I’ll take the hurt and work to forgive him if that means I can have him by my side, loving me as I love him.
A barrage of images flood into my mind—a real relationship, a real home together with Diego and the little unknown baby that he doesn’t even know exists yet.
Nights spent wrapped around each other in bed, lazy Sundays by the pool, cooking pancakes in the kitchen. A family.
“God, I’ve missed that sharp tongue.” He chuckles darkly, pulling me against his body so that my skin ignites.
His lips crush down onto mine and I whimper, sinking into the familiar sensation of being cocooned by him that I’ve missed so much.
“Mi amor,” he growls, the hand at my cheek sliding down to my throat.
“Zeke, I need to tell you something,” I mumble against his lips, pressing my hands against his chest as I try to maintain a level head around the onslaught of desire that thrums to life.
“Whatever it is can wait, Chloe,” he growls, plunging his hand into my hair and angling my head so that he can slide his tongue into my mouth.
I moan, my hand sliding to his hair and tugging lightly as tingles erupt across my skin.
God, I’ve missed this. My tongue battles with his, stroke for stroke and flick for flick, like we’re trying to make up for lost time.
I’m backed up against the dresser and the next thing I know, my legs are around his waist and my ass hits the polished top, knocking something heavy to the ground.
“Right now, all I want to worry about is making you feel good. Show you how much I’ve fucking missed you. How sorry I am. We can figure everything else out later. My father, work, home—none of that matters right now, mi fuego.”
The reverently spoken words trace a path across my jaw and down to my throat with his lips, his stubble dragging across my skin so that a sharp husk of air pulls into my lungs.
“We need to tell him the truth,” I pant, closing my eyes and tipping my head back as liquid fire pools in the base of my belly.
He freezes and then his head lifts slowly to look at me. A crease forms between his brows as heavy breaths pull into his chest. “I can’t tell him the truth about us.”
The cloud of bliss I’m floating on punctures like a balloon, all of the air hissing out of it so that I come crashing down to earth with the gravity of those words. “What do you mean?”
His eyes veil, the warmth from moments ago cooling to an ashy brown. “I need us to continue to pretend until my father is out of the picture. Just for now, and by the way, I have every intention—”
“What?” I snap, ice flooding back into my veins with terrifying speed.