Then he asked the question that stopped me cold.
“Let me ask you this. After everything that happened, past or present, have you actually told her how sorry you are?”
The words hit harder than I expected.
I went still, my mind racing backward. I could not remember saying it. Not truly. Not sincerely. I had planned to bring her back into my life, to expose the lies that had surrounded her, and yes, I had planned some grand gesture to beg for her forgiveness. I even bought her childhood home so she would always have a place that felt safe, a place that was hers.
I had planned more. So much more.
But everything unraveled the moment I found out she had been hiding my son. My anger swallowed everything else. All I could think about was how wronged I was, how she could do this to me. I drowned in my frustration and stopped seeing my own mistakes. It only got worse when I drafted a custody agreement without even talking to her first.
No wonder she exploded. No wonder she went on the defensive.
“You need to step back and give her space to breathe,” Liam continued. “You pushed her into a corner. She did exactly what anyone would do. She pushed back. You are not going to win her this way.”
I took a deep breath, the truth settling painfully into place. Liam was right. I had been so consumed by my anger that I lost sight of what truly mattered. That did not make what she did right, but it did not make my actions right either.
I wanted to tell her that I still loved her. That even back then, when I believed she betrayed me, she was the reason I could never fully commit to anyone else. Women had thrown themselves at me for years, drawn by my name, my money, my power. None of it mattered. None of them mattered.
The only person who ever came close was Lynda, five years ago. Maybe it was because she was familiar. Maybe because she reminded me of Bailey. We were both lonely, both carrying the same unresolved hurt. It connected us in ways I should have never allowed. One night, I let myself fall into it, and the regret was immediate. It felt like cheating, even though Bailey and I were already part of the past.
“You’re right,” I finally admitted, my voice quiet. “I don’t know what happened to me, or how to fix this.”
Liam nodded. “Start by talking to her. Let go of your ego. And get to know your son. That is the most important thing right now.”
And for the first time that night, I understood just how much I stood to lose if I kept fighting the wrong battle.
Chapter 27
BAILEY
A knock at the door startled me.
It was only eight, still early, but I had hoped to sleep through the rest of this miserable day. My head throbbed after the disastrous meeting with Ashton, and skipping dinner had not helped. I had no appetite anyway. The headache lingered, dull and relentless, and all I wanted was to crawl into bed and shut the world out.
I let out a tired breath and dragged myself to the door.
“Who is it?” I called, already bracing myself.
“It’s me. Ashton. Please, let me in.”
His voice sounded softer than I expected.
“I have had enough for one day,” I said, defeated. “Just leave, Ashton.”
“I promise I just want to talk, not argue,” he said quickly. “And my hand is burned. I do not know how much longer I can hold this.”
“What?” Panic cut through my exhaustion.
I swung the door open, expecting blood or pain. Instead, he stood there far too calmly, holding two cups of coffee, a paper bag tucked under his arm.
“Thanks,” he said as he stepped inside. “I almost spilled the coffee. I asked for it extra hot and did not realize it would stay hot this long.”
He set everything on the table as if this were the most normal thing in the world.
“We were supposed to have dinner today,” he added, suddenly awkward. “Since you left early, I ordered takeout. I was hoping you had not eaten.”
He ran a hand through his hair. Then again.
