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How can I forgive them?
But do I really want to hold this grudge for ever?
I can’t make amends with Liam, but I can with her.
And do I truly want to? Is it even possible?
I think of our relationship now, when we put aside the past. I think of how easy it is, how right it feels—how my need to be with her is as real as my need to
breathe. And then I think of them together, of that shared kiss on the registry office steps, and my stomach lurches just as it did then.
‘She’s coming back, Cain.’ Ethan says it under his breath. ‘Look, let’s not be morbid. Let’s look to the future, hey? With you and Alexa taking the company forward, no one will stand in your way.’
I’m not really hearing him. I’m already lost in the sight of her gliding through the room. My heart pulses in my chest, telling me exactly how I feel about her regardless of it all. As if she hasn’t tortured me enough already...as if I’m willing to go back for more.
I’m a bloody fool. I know it even as I say to Ethan, ‘You’re right—we should be focusing on the future, a fresh start.’
And there’s another thing I know: this Lexi—the one who has worked so hard to reach this point—deserves to end the night on a high, to know how exceptional she is, and she needs that truth from me just as much as the rest of the room.
They’ve done their bit. Now it’s my turn.
‘Thank you for being honest with me, Ethan.’ I turn to place my drink on the side. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have someone I need to celebrate with.’
I feel his smile against my back as I head straight for her.
Christ, she’s stunning—all elegance and sophistication, but with a hint of awkwardness that’s always lured me in. A geek-like edge that tells me she wishes she were in her jeans and an oversized hoody, pinned to her computer screen, her nose wrinkling as she concentrates.
The image grips me, conjured up from the recesses of my brain.
Fuck, why didn’t I stay and fight? Fight for her? For the life I wanted for us?
I have to stop my fingers reaching for her when she’s close enough. I have to remember who she is, where we are, and that she’s not mine. The presence of that ring on the hand now resting over her abdomen reminds me of that.
I cock my head and gesture to her tummy. She does this move a lot—it’s like a nervous tic, but it’s not one I ever noticed when we were younger. ‘Are you feeling okay?’
‘Absolutely.’
She’s all breathy as she says it and my eyes lift to her face, to the flush of colour in her cheeks, the darkening in her eyes.
‘You want to get something to drink?’
‘I thought we already were?’
She turns and takes a champagne flute from a passing waitress, raises it to me before taking a sip. A sip that seems to be full of teasing, although I know it’s just my mind that sees it that way. My twisted desire to have her want me like I want—
‘I mean a real drink.’
She smiles around the rim of the glass. ‘Too fancy for you?’
‘You could say that. So, a drink? My place?’
‘With you?’
The hint of a line appears between her brows and I have the ridiculous urge to kiss it away.
‘No, with the Queen—she’s staying for a few days.’
She surprises me with a playful punch. ‘Funny.’
