"How so?" I ask, curious. "How is it different?"
He shakes his head, at a loss for words. There's clearly something he wants to say, but he doesn't utter a word.
"You said you've been in love twice?" I ask. "Who was the second woman?"
He reaches for my hand and squeezes it. He doesn't say a word for the longest time. He inches closer, and for a brief moment, I think he's going to kiss me again. He better not.
He palms my cheek. "You, Jenna. You. I thought that was obvious."
I'm startled. I'm speechless.
"I wouldn't be fucking up your life for just a fuck, Jenna," he tells me. "There's a lot of women I could fuck if that was all I was looking for."
I don't understand. Again, the question begs for answers. Why me?
"What are you looking for?" I ask, confused.
"Someone that excites me, someone I can't stop thinking about, someone who I click with… I don't know… chemistry... a soul mate, an unexplainable, undeniable attraction. I can't explain it, Jenna. "
His fingers brush my cheek, feather-light. "All I know is… I have that with you… and I’m in love with you, Jenna."
The words hang in the air between us. I feel them echo inside me, and I recognize the truth in how my own heart responds. But I can't say it back. Saying it would make this too real—a betrayal I couldn't take back.
“I’m sorry, Caine…” I whisper instead. “I need to go home.”
Caine nods, understanding what I can't bring myself to say.
As I gather myself to leave, I'm more confused than ever—torn between the life I've built and the man who makes me feel more alive than I have in years.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Stretched across the sectional in our living room, I stare at the rustic brick fireplace that usually brings me comfort. The artificial candles are off, and the room feels so small. I feel numb and hollow.
"Focus on your family," I whisper to myself, shuffling through the stack of bills. "Forget Caine. Forget everything."
But his words echo in my head:I’m in love with you, Jenna. And worse, the memory of his body against mine, the way he touched me—slowly and tenderly like I was something precious. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the images.
"Stop it," I scold myself. "You're married. You have Liam. You have commitments.”
I fire up my laptop and force myself to concentrateon the spreadsheet in front of me, adding up our monthly expenses. The numbers don't lie—we started with fifty thousand dollars, and now only thirty remains. My stomach drops.
"Reeves?" I call out, my voice sharper than intended.
He appears in the doorway, defensive before I've even spoken. "What?"
"There's twenty thousand missing. Where did it go?"
"Bills," he says, avoiding my gaze. "The hall, the house. Shit is expensive, babe."
"Not that expensive! That much? In three weeks?" I press. "Show me the receipts."
His face darkens. "You don't trust me now?"
"Julie saw you at the tracks. She told me all about it."
"That cunt of a sister of yours is full of shit. Yeah, maybe I was there. Why the fuck is that her business?"
My mouth drops. Julie isn't my favorite person in the world, but calling her a cunt? She's my freaking sister. How dare him.
