Chapter 30 #2
‘You tried to fix things. It’s not your fault that this is what you have to do to make that happen,’ her therapist said in her head.
She knew that, and yet …
“You’ve been stuck here all day,” she murmured. “You got dragged into this, and you didn’t need to be.”
“If I got dragged into this, it’s because I wanted to be,” he said. “I’m not going to let you take all this shit by yourself,” his fingers tightened slightly, “and for the record, I meant what I said before. I’ll go, if that makes things easier for you. I’ll leave.”
She grimaced. I don’t doubt it.
It would kill both of them, but if she asked, he wouldn’t hesitate to go to the other side of the world.
The fact he was asking instead of just doing didn’t escape her. But…
“That’s not what I meant. You know what they’ll say if you leave, right?” she asked. “They’ll say I told you to do it. It doesn’t matter if it’s not true, I’ll be framed as the bad guy.”
He frowned and cocked his head. “What are you—why?”
She scoffed, shaking her head. Does he still not understand this?
“James, you have money and power,” she explained. “You’re a good-looking man who’s barely older, but they’ll take those five years and blow them into fifty.”
“So what?” he demanded.
Hot, thick air filled her lungs, choking her, and she pulled away, sitting down in one of the chairs by her desk.
She shut her eyes. “So, everything.”
Ever since she offered their arrangement to him, she knew it would be a dangerous, deadly dance.
They risked it all to love in secret—their individual positions and reputations, their companies’ prestige and notoriety, their hearts.
But she did it anyway, and now, it might come back to bite her in the ass.
Headlines that called her a golddigger, a lifesucking leech, and a shameless, exploitative parasite who ruined a promising young man’s career swam before her eyes.
She buried her head in her hands.
Everything started because she couldn’t let James go, hadn’t it? If she had just let him be the One Who Got Away, then maybe …
God, her therapist was going to have a field day at their next session.
Quick footsteps were her only warning before a crushing warmth enveloped her, stealing her breath.
“I’m sorry.” James hugged her tight. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve—no, I can do more.”
She closed her eyes, breathing him in. “James—”
“I can make it go away,” he continued. “I can—”
Sickness twisted her stomach. “No.”
He’d use his name and connections to strong-arm everything away from the media and brush things under the rug.
As much as this was driving her up the wall, she didn’t want to hide behind a check. She couldn’t handle people always whispering behind their backs about a relationship they only pretended to accept.
Besides, what can he really do that won’t also tear himself down in the process?
A shuddering breath ghosted past her lips, and she swiped at her cheeks, grimacing at the wetness that littered her fingers as they came away from her face.
Her jaw clenched. She had never cried over this whole damn thing once, so why was she doing so now?
Nothing even happened, for God’s sake.
She sniffled. No, but it might have.
And at the end of the day, that was what she was so terrified of. That ‘might.’
If her dad hadn’t abandoned his family, returned for his own desires, then ran again after a few hours, Sophie might have had a different upbringing.
If her exes hadn’t subjected her to hit and runs, then she might have been in a different place with her love life.
The last thing she wanted was for James to become another ‘might.’
Her therapist always said it was healthy to let your emotions through, but they probably didn’t mean the sudden urge Sophie got to punch something.
Settling for the next best thing, she clenched her hands around her chair and squeezed. She didn’t know what she hoped to accomplish by strangling an inanimate object, but did she need to?
“This isn’t your fault,” James murmured, and swiped away tears with his thumb. “None of this is on you.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts,” he interjected. “Cry over them and they win. Get mad over them, and they win.”
She glanced at him to see that his jaw was set, eyes glistening.
Ice replaced her cheeks. How long has he felt like this? Did it start with Lotus, or much earlier?
His arms trembled around her. “I’m not saying don’t cry, or don’t get mad. But don’t let them see. Never give them the satisfaction.”
The journalist did it, and it wasn’t just him. Somehow, he circulated the story to other news publications and got them to post it on short notice, too.
But that wasn’t all.
Since Lotus possessed such a renowned repertoire, the story once again graced the front pages of primary news sources.
It was a shocking déjà vu, except this time, it was welcomed with open arms.
Sophie sat behind her desk, Marilyn and James crouched behind her as she scrolled down the list.
She covered her mouth with a hand. “This is…”
Oh, God, she was going to start crying again.
The article was exactly what she wanted and needed. It didn’t even come close to putting her or James into a negative spotlight.
The journalist somehow wound their quotes and Jackie’s into beautiful paragraphs that explained the situation perfectly.
There were no twists or turns, no darkened corners for misunderstandings to happen.
Beaming, she turned to kiss James deeply.
“We did it,” she murmured against his lips.
He pulled back to kiss her forehead and beamed. “No, you did it.”
Sophie chuckled and glanced at Marilyn.
A satisfied smile glinted on her boss’s face, and she crossed her arms. “I’m so glad this worked out. You really handled this with grace, Sophie, and I’m proud of you. But what about Jackie? Are we just going to let her get away?”
James cleared his throat and fiddled with the dazzling watch on his wrist. “Don’t worry about her. I’ve got it under control.”
“Right, you mentioned that friend of yours.” Marilyn sighed.
“I wouldn’t call the commissioner a friend, but yes,” James said. “If Jackie doesn’t want trouble, then we shouldn’t be hearing from her again.”
“I see. Well, there’s something to be said about that,” Marilyn began. “But … since you aren’t Covey’s client anymore, I can’t stop you.”
Weights tied themselves to Sophie’s heart, dragging it down into her stomach to drown.
That’s right, he’s done with Covey.
But … what about them?
She put off giving him a definitive answer because the thought gave her a headache, and it still did. But if she was being honest with herself, the obvious answer had stared her in the face for too long.
She curled her fists in her lap, using the pain of her nails digging into her palm to ground herself.
“Marilyn, can we have the room for a minute?” Sophie asked. “I need to talk to James.”
He stared at her, brows knitted.
Marilyn’s gaze flicked between them, but she nodded and grasped Sophie’s shoulder for a moment before stepping out.
The minute the door closed, Sophie slowly pushed herself up from her chair and faced him. “We’re done.”