I know the risks of what I’m saying. If Mila hurts herself…the guilt will never go away.
Devon lifts his gaze to mine. His blue eyes are bloodshot, rimmed with exhaustion, but he lifts my hands to his lips as he says?—
"I meant what I said to her. Every word. I love you, Jade. I willalwayslove you. I fucked up by kissing her. But I’m owning that.”
The declaration should make me feel better. And it does, in some ways—hearing my husband say those words with such conviction does ease my pain from his actions.
I pull my hands back and reach for my coffee mug, wrapping my fingers around its warmth.
"What happens now?" I ask. "With the restraining order, with her job at the gym?—"
"I don't know. Gray said to document everything. HR is reviewing her contract." He exhales slowly. "But I don't think a piece of paper is going to stop her, Jade. Not if she's really?—"
"Then we stay ready." I set down the mug. "We keep our phones charged, and we vary our routines. We don't go anywhere alone if we can help it."
Devon nods, but he looks like he’s holding the weight of this house on his back. The guilt that won't let go.
"This isn't your fault," I say again.
"Isn't it?" His voice is rough. "I kissed her. I gave her an opening. If I had never?—"
"Stop." I stand, moving around the table until I'm beside him. "You made a mistake. One mistake. And you've been paying for it every single day since. But Mila's actions are her own. Her obsession, her threats, her choice to escalate—that's on her. Not you."
Devon looks up at me, his expression crumbling at the edges.
"I don't deserve you."
"Probably not." A small smile tugs at my lips despite everything. "But you're stuck with me, anyway."
He reaches for my waist, pulling me closer until I'm standing between his knees. His forehead presses against my stomach, and I feel his exhausted exhale through the fabric of my shirt.
I run my fingers through his hair, feeling the tension in his scalp.
"I'm scared," I admit. The words come out small, almost childlike. "Of what she'll do next. Of whether this will ever really be over."
Devon's arms tighten around me. "We'll get through it."
"I know." I pause, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "But that's not the only thing I'm scared of."
He tilts his head back to look at me. "What else?"
The confession rises in my throat like bile. I've been carrying it for so long—this secret shame that predates Mila, predates New York, predates everything.
"I feel like you don’t want a family with me,” I whisper. "Even now. Even after everything you've said."
"Jade—"
“I know it is irrational?—”
I can't finish. The tears are coming now, hot and messy, and I hate myself for falling apart again. For being this weak and insecure.
Just like Mila said I was.
Devon stands, pulling me against his chest. His hand cradles the back of my head, his lips pressing against my temple.
"Listen to me," he demands, his voice low and fierce. "You are the strongest person I have ever known."
"Devon—"
