“Shane was brilliant; he supported all my ideas. We were building an empire together. It felt like we were unstoppable. But after a year, we got into a huge argument over a project, and he pulled rank over me, making some major decisions without telling me. He became power-hungry about everything, and I wanted nothing to do with that, so I ended it.”
I exhale on a shaky breath.
“He didn’t take it well.”
The understatement of the century.
“Shane couldn’t handle the rejection and made sure I paid for it.” The memories choke me. “He started small, questioning my decisions in meetings, making little comments that undermined my authority. At first, I thought I was imagining it. That I was being paranoid.”
I dig my nails into my palms.
“But it got worse. He started cutting me out of more and more important decisions. He’d hold meetings without me, then act surprised when I didn’t know what was happening. He’d tell the team I was being difficult. Emotional. That I couldn’t separate the business from my personal feelings.”
Ryder’s hands curl into fists.
“He gaslighted me. Made me doubt myself and everyone else question me. In public, he was polite, but in private, he’d send me messages late at night that were half-apologies, half-threats. Mostly threats, actually. But because he was the CEO, people sided with him. I became the problem. The ex-girlfriend who couldn’t let go. The woman causing drama.”
Tears prick my eyes. I blink them back.
“When it was obvious the rift would never get better, I hired a lawyer and filed a harassment lawsuit. That’s when things turned uglier,” I continue. “The case became public. The media got hold of it. And I was in the center of this… storm. Half the articles painted me as a victim. The other half called me a liar. An opportunist. Saying I was trying to bring down a successful man because I was bitter about the breakup. His text messages were part of the court proceedings. They got leaked, and some were… sexual in nature, perverse even. My parents…”
I stumble on my words.
“Faye…” Ryder leans forward.
I raise a hand. “Please let me finish, or I might never get through with everything. My parents… they’re very traditional. They wanted nothing to do with the scandal and cut ties with me. I haven’t spoken with them in over a year.”
I press my palms to my thighs to hold myself together.
“People I thought were my friends turned on me. Coworkers testified against me. The internet tore me apart. Every day, new articles popped up, think pieces with strangers debating whether I was brave or manipulative. If I was telling the truth or making it all up for attention.”
I exhale. “I lost my company. My reputation. My family. My sense of self. Everything I built and loved was taken from me.”
Ryder’s eyes are locked on mine; they are burning.
“The lawsuit dragged on for months, but in the end, I just wanted it to be over, so I settled. I sold my shares in the company and signed an NDA. I agreed never to speak about what happened to anyone. Everything I told you tonight, I’m not legally allowed to talk about. You could ruin me just by knowing this. It’s why I didn’t tell you in the beginning. You said you weren’t sure if this relationship was important enough to share with your son, and I guess I needed more than one date to break my NDA. But I’m also tired of keeping it in, of watching my back, of wondering who’ll try to get me next. And if there is one person I can give the power to destroy me, you’re the only one I trust.
“I came to Blue Crescent Harbor because I wanted to vanish,” I whisper. “I wanted to be someone new without a complicated past that followed me everywhere. And then I met you.”
Ryder looks like he’s about to spring up from his chair to go murder someone, but he keeps still and lets me speak.
“You were everything I wasn’t expecting,” I confess. “Honest, unconcerned with money or status or any of the things that mattered in LA. You cared about your son. Your family. Your land. And you made me feel… safe. Like I could be myself without being judged.”
Tears spill down my cheeks.
“But I was scared that if you knew who I was, I’d lose you before I even had you. That you’d see me the way everyone else did. Like I was damaged. Problematic. Not worth the trouble. So I kept everything inside, and it was wrong. I should’ve told you, especially after you opened up to me about Abigail. You trusted me with your pain, and I didn’t trust you with mine.
“I’m sorry. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’m asking anyway if there’s a way we can move past this?”
Ryder’s fists are tight, knuckles white. “I don’t think I can,” he says, spreading ice over my chest, but then he adds, “Not until I’ve gone to LA and beaten that bastard to a pulp.”
“He doesn’t matter.” I stand up. “Karma already caught up with them. All their new games have flopped, and the studio is going under. Sony or Microsoft will buy them for pennies on the dollar soon.” I walk to his side of the porch. “But I don’t care about any of that. I only care about us. Can you forgive me?”
His jaw works as if he’s chewing words he can’t swallow or let out. The silence stretches thin enough to snap, and I’m terrified it will break the wrong way—that he’ll tell me to leave, that we’re done, that some things can’t be forgiven no matter how many ugly truths you spill at someone’s feet.
His hands uncurl from the armrests, stiff, like he’s forcing them to cooperate.
“Yeah,” he says finally. “I forgive you.”
