Damn him for being so sweet, so…him.
His words hit me in places I thought were already hollowed out. Another crack splits open in my chest.
I nod, forcing the words out despite the tightness in my throat. “Thank you.” It’s all I can manage, even though I’m not close to being hungry.
When he sits down across from me, the guilt I expected isn’t there. Instead, there’s a heaviness in his eyes, deeper than regret. It’s the weariness of someone who’s already given up on themselves, like he’s convinced there’s nothingleft to fight for.
I almost reach out.Almost.
“I’m ready to listen,” I say quietly, my voice trembling despite my best effort to sound stable. I need answers, and no matter how much it hurts, I owe it to myself to hear him out.
His chest rises as he takes a slow breath. “I met Hallie through a mutual friend. At the time, I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I was married to my work, trying to get the distillery back on its feet. It was casual for a long time.”
Before I can pick his words apart, he lifts his mug and takes a slow sip. My eyes follow the movement, tracing the way his throat moves as he swallows, the sharp lines of his neck drawing me in like they always do. It takes me a second too long to realize what I’m doing, and I quickly tear my eyes away, heat creeping up my neck.
Focus. Now is not the time to get distracted by his neck, of all things.
“Eventually,” he continues, “she started pushing for more. It had been about a year, and neither of us were seeing anyone else. That’s when she started talking about marriage. I didn’t hate the idea. She was kind, interested in what I did, and seemed genuinely happy just being with me, even when I was exhausted and running on fumes at the end of the day.”
I nod, trying to appear composed, but inside, my chest constricts with every word. Hearing him talk about his…wifesplits me open from the inside out. Judging by the look on his face, I’m doing a horrible job at hiding it.
His fingers tighten around his mug. “Do you want me to keep going?”
No.
“Yes.”
His gaze flickers to mine, then away, as if he’s weighing how much of this mess he’s willing to let me in on. “Long story short, we eloped, and things changed pretty quickly after that. In thetime I’d known her, she’d been putting on a hell of an act. It became clear what she was really after. It wasn’t me. It was the money, or more specifically, what she could spend it on.”
He shoots me a quick glance, catching the crease in my brow before I can smooth it away. “My family’s wealthy,” he explains. “The business might’ve struggled, but I didn’t. Personally, I was fine. I chose to rebuild it out of respect for my dad. He never got the chance.”
His jaw tightens. A sign that there’s more he wants to say. Part of me wonders if he’s just not saying it, if it’s something he’s unwilling to share, or if maybe he’s waiting for me to push. Or is this just me imagining things, reading too far into his every move?
“Anyway,” he says, clearing his throat. “Turns out she was after the money the whole time. I filed for divorce, and it’s been a battle ever since. We’ve been separated for almost two years now, and I should be getting the certificate next week.”
My mind spins, trying to make sense of everything he just laid out. I didn’t know what I expected to hear today, but it sure as hell wasn’t this.
“That’s terrible, Knox. I’m so sorry,” I say, and I mean it.
A flare of pain crosses his face. “Don’t waste your sympathy on me,” he murmurs. “I made a reckless choice, marrying her without thinking it through, and I’ve been paying for it ever since. What kills me is that you got dragged into it. You deserve better than this.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” The words cut loose before I can rein them in. “What did you think was going to happen? That I’d just keep falling while you held the truth in your back pocket?”
He flinches—barely—but I see it.
And still, even with the anger pulsing through every inch ofme, there’s a part that leans toward him. That stupid, stubborn part that remembers how safe it felt to be held by him.
I hate that part of me.
Because even now, with my heart cracking wide open, I still want the man who broke it.
He rubs a hand over his jaw, his gaze darting away. “At first, I didn’t think it mattered. I wasn’t expecting this to turn into anything serious.” He swallows hard. “Then it did. I didn’t want to bring it up until I knew what was happening with the divorce.”
His head drops for a moment before he looks at me again. “I’m sorry, Juliette. For not telling you. For the way you found out. For all of it. This… This is exactly what I was afraid of.”
I don’t even try to stop the tears that slip down my face. Knowing he hasn’t been with anyone else while we were together should bring some relief, but it doesn’t undo the damage. The trust we built is in pieces, and I have no idea if it can be put back together.
A hundred questions swirl in my mind. Only one slips free. “Did she live in your house with you?” I wince, bracing myself for the answer to an unspoken question.Was I in her bed?
