A woman who married me without ceremony, without humanity, without certainty.
A woman who deserved better than the version of me she got today.
I press my palm flat against the glass.
This was supposed to be simple.
Transactional.
Controlled.
Instead, every instinct in me is screaming that I’ve miscalculated something fundamental.
Not the optics.
Not the contract.
Thehuman cost.
I don’t know how to be gentle. I don’t know how to let someone matter without trying to contain the damage they could do.
But I know with a certain kind of clarity that if I don’t learn quickly, Lucy will be swallowed whole by my world. And I will deserve it when she pulls away.
I straighten, forcing my breathing to steady.
This arrangement cannot be one-sided.
It cannot be survival for her and convenience for me.
If I am going to ask her to share my name, my home, my bed...
Then I have to give her more than safety.
I glance at my watch.
She will be home soon. She is with Claire, probably trying to make herself smaller than she needs to be. Probably convincing herself she’s fine.
I grab my jacket.
I don’t know how to do this.
I don’t know how to undo the damage I started today.
But I know one thing with terrifying certainty, I need to go home.
I need to make this right. And this time, I can’t hide behind the plan.
Chapter 31 - Lucy
The doors open directly into the penthouse. There isn't a hallway or other apartments on this floor. No buffer, just space.
Glass and stone and light pouring in like the city has been invited inside and decided to stay. Chicago stretches beneath the windows, vast and glittering, the lake dark and endless beyond it. It looks unreal from up here, like a postcard version of a place I’ve lived at ground level.
Claire steps aside to let me walk in first. The gesture feels ceremonial.
My heels click against the floor, the sound too small for a space this large. The penthouse doesn’t echo; it absorbs. Everything here feels designed tocontainyou, to make sure nothing ever feels out of control.
I stop without meaning to. This is not an apartment; this is a statement.
