Page 181 of The Wright Man

Bella rolled her eyes like we'd started slow dancing in front of her and dropped her mug on the coffee table. "Okay, before y'all start making heart eyes and whispering sweet nothings, I'd like to remind you that I got dragged out of bed in the middle of the damn night. Spill the tea. Starting with the kiss."

I swallowed. The words tangled in my throat before they even had a chance to form. It was all still so fresh—raw and swollen, like a bruise that hadn't finished blooming.

"I..." I started, then stopped. "We..."

Maleek squeezed my hand once—firm, grounding—and took over like he always did when I couldn't find air. Calm. Steady. Centered.

"We kissed," he said plainly. His voice was even, but it wrapped around me like a weighted blanket. "At the open house. It wasn't planned, but it wasn't a mistake either."

Bella's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't interrupt. She just listened. Good sign.

"She panicked afterward," he continued. "Which... makes sense. She's still married. And she's loyal. Even when it hurts her."

His thumb brushed over mine again, like a reminder that he wasn't going anywhere.

"But it showed us something," he said. "We want each other. We've always wanted each other. We're figuring it out instead of running from it."

His voice didn't shake. He didn't stumble or fidget. He just said it, bold and certain, like he'd waited years to speak it into existence.

And me? I sat there in awe. Because I'd spent so long doing the opposite—shrinking myself down, tucking my feelings into neat little boxes, convincing myself that friendship was enough, that timing was everything, that loving Maleek was just a childhood ache I'd eventually grow out of.

But he was here. And he wasn't flinching.

Bella's brows lifted just a touch. "Mmmkay..." she said slowly, her gaze sliding back to me. "But she did run. And turned off her location. And ignored everyone's calls. And nearly gave us all heart atta—"

"I get it, Bella," I cut in, my cheeks heating as shame wrapped itself around my neck like a scarf. "I know. I freaked out a little."

Bella gave me that look—the one that said "a little?" with one brow and "really, bitch?" with the other.

I groaned, scrubbing a hand over my face. "Okay, a lot. But it wasn't because of the kiss. It was because of what the kiss meant."

My voice dropped. My chest ached.

"I knew the second his mouth touched mine that my marriage was over," I said quietly. "I knew I couldn't go back to pretending. And I didn't know what to do with that yet."

Bella's face softened, just a bit.

"I needed space," I said. "To end things with Gavin. Before anything else happened with Maleek. Before I could let myself even think about what came next. I put everyone on Do Not Disturb because I didn't want to be talked out of it. I didn't want noise in my head when I already knew what I had to do."

Bella nodded slowly. Her eyes were still watchful, still wary, but the judgment never came. Just quiet, simmering concern.

Then she tilted her head. "Okay. So what happened between that epiphany and you climbing Maleek's headboard like Spider-Woman?"

I blinked. "Bella."

"I said what I said."

Maleek didn't say a word, but his hand didn't move. Just stayed wrapped around mine, warm and steady like a lifeline.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Let the memory roll in like a slow, black tide. Jasmine. The baby boy and the sharp echo of Maleeka's face in his innocent hazel eyes. The way my knees buckled and my stomach dropped like I was free-falling into the worst kind of déjà vu.

"I went to end it," I said, voice shaking. "I went to tell Gavin I wanted a divorce. But when I got there..."

I stopped, my throat locking up.

Maleek's hand flexed against mine, pulling me back before I could sink again.

"He's been cheating," I finally managed. "For over two years. With Jasmine. His secretary."