Chapter 19
Kayla
I lead Roman into Morgan’s living room, hyper-aware of his presence behind me.
I can feel the desperation radiating off him, but I keep my back straight, my shoulders squared.
I turn to face him, crossing my arms over my chest, creating another barrier between us.
The divorce papers are still clutched in his hand, crumpled from his grip.
“Talk,” I say, throwing down the single word like a challenge.
Roman looks terrible. The realization brings me no satisfaction, just a hollow ache where my heart used to be. Dark circles ring his eyes, and his normally neat beard has grown wild. His blue eyes, usually so sharp and commanding, are bloodshot and pleading.
“Kayla,” he begins, my name sounding raw in his throat. “I am so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls. I would give anything to go back to that night and make different choices.”
His voice cracks on the word “anything,” and I see moisture gathering in his eyes. I’ve seen this man angry, aroused, amused, but never broken. Never like this. The Roman standing before me is shattered in a way I’ve never witnessed.
“Let’s try to be honest, Roman,” I reply, surprised by the acid in my voice. “I already know nothing is more important than Naomi’s safety. Isn’t that what you said? ‘Nothing is more important to me than your safety. Nothing.’ Those were your exact words to her, weren’t they?”
He recoils as if I’ve struck him physically.
“Kayla, about that morning…what I said…” he starts, and something in me snaps.
“What you said?” I repeat, my voice rising despite my determination to stay calm.
“Sure Roman. We could talk about what you said. We could also talk about every other time you’ve proven that the club comes first. Every time I’ve begged to be let in and you shut me out.
Every time I told you the members of your club hated me and you dismissed me. ”
I step closer to him, hurt rising like bile in my throat.
“Do you want to talk about how Naomi probably knows more about your life than I do? How you gave her parts of you that you never even tried to share with me?” My hands clench into fists at my sides.
“What did Atlas mean when he said that you understood better than anyone that Naomi could be depended on in a fight, Roman?”
I’m practically shouting now, pacing the small living room because staying still feels impossible. The hurt is too big to contain in a motionless body.
“This whole thing,” my voice cracks, but I force myself to continue, “has just made me look at what’s been right in front of my face the whole time. I’ve always been second to the Rejects. Always been someone you can just play house with before going back to your real life. ”
I stop suddenly, my back to him, because I can feel tears threatening, and I refuse to let him see me cry. Not now. Not when I need all my strength.
“Sunshine, I’m so sorry—” he begins, his voice thick.
“Don’t call me that,” I snap, whirling to face him again. “And shut up. Just shut up.”
He falls silent immediately, his hands hanging helplessly at his sides, the crumpled divorce papers still clutched in one fist.
“Did you sleep with her?” I ask the question that’s been burning in my mind since I watched Naomi follow him out of that office.
“No,” Roman says immediately, looking genuinely appalled. “God, no, Kayla. Never.”
“But she came on to you, didn’t she. While I was wondering if I was going to die that day, you were promising her nothing was more important to you than her safety and she was trying to get you into bed with her. Wasn’t she?” I press, watching his face carefully. It’s not a question.
His silence is answer enough. The color drains from his face, and his jaw works, but no words come out.
“Get out,” I say quietly, suddenly too exhausted to continue this conversation.
Roman doesn’t move. Instead, he drops to his knees in front of me, the divorce papers falling forgotten to the floor. The sight of him, this proud, powerful man, on his knees is so shocking that I take an involuntary step back.
“Please,” he begs, his voice ragged. “Please don’t do this. Don’t divorce me. I’ll do anything. Anything you want, for as long as it takes.”
He reaches for my hands, but I pull them away, tucking them behind my back.
“You’ll be my priority every day for the rest of my life,” he continues desperately. “I’ll never keep secrets from you again. I’ll tell you everything, show you everything. I’ll guard you with my life. I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about harming you.”
His eyes are wild now, tears tracking unnoticed down his cheeks and into his beard. “I’ll spend every day making you happy if you’ll just give me a chance. Please, Kayla. Please.”
The anger that has sustained me through this confrontation ebbs, leaving behind a bone-deep sadness that threatens to drown me. I shake my head slowly.
“No,” I say softly. “I can’t. I don’t have it in me to trust you again.”
I turn away from him, walking to the window to stare out at the street. It’s easier to say this next part if I’m not looking at him.
“You treated me like I was weak,” I say, my voice steadier than I expected.
“Someone to keep in a bright sunny glass jar because I was too weak to handle the dark parts of your life. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from all this, it’s that I’m strong.
I was strong enough to survive being kidnapped, being terrorized, all alone.
” I press my palm against the cool glass of the window.
“And now I’m strong enough to walk away and rebuild my life. ”
I turn back to face him, finding him still on his knees, looking up at me with devastation written across his features.
“I didn’t just want your love, Roman. I wanted your respect. And I’ve realized that I never had that.”
“That’s not true,” he protests immediately. “I respect you. I’ve always respected you.”
I can’t help the derisive snort that escapes me.
“Respected me so much you kept me in the dark about every important aspect of your life? Respected me so much that you stood there when Naomi mocked me and then told her she was more important to you than I was? Respected me so much you shared more of yourself with her than you ever did with me?”
He has no answer to this, and we both know it.
“I want you to leave now,” I say quietly.
“Kayla, please—”
“If you really respect me,” I cut him off, “you’ll listen to me and go.”
For a long moment, I think he might refuse. Then, slowly, he pushes himself to his feet. He looks lost, like a man who’s just had the ground torn from beneath him. He bends down and picks up the divorce papers, smoothing them with a trembling hand.
As he turns toward the door, I speak again; the words spilling out before I can stop them.
“I would have loved both Roman and Viper, you know,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I would have kept your secrets. I would have been strong enough to stand in your world. But you never gave me a chance.”
He stops, his hand on the doorknob, his back to me. His shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath.
“I’m never giving up on you,” he says, his voice rough but determined. “Never.”
Then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.
My knees buckle. I collapse onto Morgan’s couch, the tears I’ve been holding back finally breaking free.
They come in great, heaving sobs that rack my entire body.
I curl into myself, arms wrapped around my middle as if trying to hold myself together even as I fall apart.
Through the window, I hear the roar of his motorcycle starting, then fading as he drives away. Away from me, away from the life we built together that turned out to be built on a foundation of half-truths and omissions.
As the tears finally slow, I wonder if I’ve made the right choice. If the strength I’ve found is real or just another form of self-protection. But then I remember being alone on the side of the road in the dark, the casual way Roman dismissed me for our entire marriage, and I know.
There’s no going back. Only forward, into whatever comes next.