Chapter 6 (Another Visit)

I stayed curled on the edge of the bed. Don hadn’t left the house that morning. He was working from his home office, which, in simpler terms, meant I was locked down indoors. Specifically my room.

Elsie came in the third time that afternoon.

"You haven’t eaten much today," she said, placing a small tray by the dresser. Lunch.

“I’m not hungry,” I murmured.

I did not need to look to know that her eyes were on my untouched breakfast still sitting cold on the tray beside it. It had stayed since morning and she had finally come to clear it. Her gaze lingered on my fingers twisting the hem of my dress, on the way I had my hand to my chest, lost in another world she wasn’t invited into. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she noticed.

A moment later, the sound of a car pulling into our compound cut through the stillness. Both our eyes carted to the window. Don was finally leaving?

I shot to my feet, crossed to the window, and peeked through the curtain. It was not a car going out but one driving in. The black stretch car stopped and a chauffeur rounded it and pulled open the door.

Jay.

I froze.

What was he doing here?

He stepped out of the car in a navy button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a pair of dark sunglasses pushed into his hair. He did not rush but did not stop to take in his environment. There was something purposeful in the way he walked straight to the front door.

I dropped the curtain, pulse rising. “Elsie,” I whispered. “It’s him.”

“Him?”

“Jay.”

Elsie’s brows drew together. “Why would he—”

The front door opened. Distant chatter followed. I strained my ears to listen to the voices floating faintly up the stairs. I held my breath, inching my door open just to hear.

“I’m here to see Don,” Jay’s voice came smoothly.

“Mr. Raymond is in his office,” the butler answered. “Shall I announce—”

“No need,” Jay cut in, already moving past.

Elsie tapped my back, whispering, “Why is he here?”

I stepped back into the room, careful not to close the door shut. I shrugged. “He said he’s here to see Don.”

I stared at the door, then down at myself—barefoot, no makeup, hair undone. This wasn’t good.

Jay was in the house.

Don was in the house.

I couldn’t stand still.

Jay was somewhere in this house. Just down the stairs. Just a few steps away from the man I married.

Elsie opened the door softly after clearing the untouched tray of food. Holding it in her hands, she turned to me, suspicious. “You’re not thinking of leaving this room, are you?”

“No,” I said, too quickly.

Her look said she didn’t buy it. “Cassie.”

I shook my head, moving toward the window. “I just want to know why he’s here.”

“Why? It's none of our business,” she said. “You’ll only get yourself—”

A sound from below made me freeze. His voice. My pulse ticked up. Elsie thought it was none of my business but it was. She didn’t know about our kiss. She didn’t know about what he said to me in the gathering. What he said made me sure that I was not the only one who felt more than I should.

“Don’t,” Elsie warned, already reading my thoughts.

But I was already near the door. “I’m just listening.”

Immediately she left for the kitchen, I slipped out and padded softly into the hallway. The sound came clearer from Don's office now.

I crept closer to the heavy door down the corridor, careful not to let my footfalls echo. My heartbeat grew louder than the voices, but I kept going, flattening myself against the wall.

“…you’re drowning in liabilities, Don,” Jay’s voice came. “Half your properties in Cape Verde are unsold, and the rest are tied up in pending litigation.”

Real estate. That’s what it was.

My mouth went dry.

Jay continued, “You should’ve let go months ago and reinvested in liquidity. You don’t need to take my advice, but father thinks—”

“Father sent you, not a financial analyst,” Don snapped. “What do you know about managing overseas holdings?”

Jay gave a short, almost bored laugh. “That’s rich, coming from someone who won’t even show his books to the board. You don’t want help. You want to crash this thing alone and blame the world when you do.”

A pause. My chest rose and fell in an unsteady manner. I imagined Don standing there in his technicolour purple sweater, his stiff posture and locked jaw. Probably behind his desk, gripping the edge. Probably furious.

“I’m not here to fight,” Jay said after a long pause. “Father asked me to look into the Cape Verde project, so I did. I don’t want your job. I don’t want your company. And frankly, I don’t want to be here.”

That last part landed in my chest. He didn’t want to be here.

I imagined him across from Don maybe slouched into the leather chair, looking like he couldn’t wait to get out. Still handsome. Still detached.

Don’s voice came again, low and cutting. “Then go.”

I turned away from the door, my back pressing into the cold wall. My heart thudded painfully, like it knew it had no business being there. Being involved. 

Elsie was right. I never should’ve left my room.

But I couldn’t help it. Jay was in the house, and even when I didn’t want him to be, some part of me did.

The next thing I heard was movement. Papers shuffled, a chair scraped back.

Panic slid down my spine. He was coming out.

I swivelled and darted into the nearest room like a thief. It was one of the spare guest rooms that no one ever used. My back hit the door as I held my breath, listening for the footfalls fading down the hallway. Heavy. Slow and certain. Oxford shoes meeting marble in a confident stride.

I counted each step until they passed. One by one. Gone.

I gave it a few more heartbeats before easing the door open again. I exhaled and made an attempt to step out, barefoot, my toes curling on the cold floor.

And then I looked up. And there he was.

Jay.

Not halfway down the corridor like I expected. Not rounding the stairs.

He was right there. Leaning casually against the wall outside the room like he knew I’d come out. Like he’d waited. Like he knew I’d been eavesdropping.

And somehow, he looked taller up close. Broader at the shoulders.

The shirt did nothing to hide his form, and the top two buttons were still notoriously undone. Streams of veins anastomosed down the side of his forearms, visible from after his sleeves were rolled. 

His mouth curved slowly, not quite a smile. “You always snoop around in your own house?”

I swallowed. “I wasn't snooping.” A lie.

“Okay, hiding.” He leaned off the wall and stepped closer, pushing the door open wider and wider. I stood there, frozen. My fingers grazed the edge of the door frame but I didn’t move. Couldn’t.

His gaze dropped to my lips. Just for a second. Then back to my eyes. “Curious little bird.”

“You were supposed to leave,” I said, too quietly like I had forgotten how to speak.

“I did. But I forgot something.” His hand came up, and for one ridiculous, unhinged moment, I thought he’d touch my face.

He didn’t.

He reached around me—his body brushing mine—and pulled the door shut behind me, trapping me fully in the hallway with him. His palm rested on the wood for a second longer than it should have. Close. Too close.

“I wouldn’t go sneaking around Don’s office again if I were you,” he murmured, his voice pitched low. “You might not like everything you hear.” He was enjoying this

“He might see us, Jay.” 

He stared at me.

Then, slowly—deliberately—his hand came up again, and this time, he touched me.

His fingers found my wrist, softly, like he was checking that I was real. Like he didn’t quite trust that I was standing there.

His thumb brushed over the inside of my arm.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I whispered.

He tilted his head. “And yet, you are.”

I wanted to pull away but I didn’t.

My skin burned under his touch, even though it was just my wrist. I hated how my breath shortened, how my eyes stayed locked on his instead of doing the sensible thing—looking away.

I should’ve pulled back. I didn’t.

“What are you doing, Jay?” I asked, in a low voice.

He didn’t answer right away. Just watched me like he was trying to solve a puzzle he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. Then he let go.

I nearly stepped back. Nearly. A gust of wind filled my lungs.

“You looked different,” he said softly. “That day in the garden. You were playing someone’s perfect wife. Now you look like you.”

“I am someone’s wife,” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. “Yeah. I know.”

The words sat between us. For a second, neither of us moved. I thought he might leave. Maybe he would turn and walk down the hall without another word. It would’ve been safer that way.

But of course, Jay never did the safe thing.

Instead, he leaned in—not touching, just close enough for his breath to warm my cheek. My pulse hammered and he could feel it through my wrist.

“Tell me to go,” he said into my ears.

I swallowed. His hands curved at my sides. “You should go.”

“Mean it.” 

But my voice failed, and we both knew why. His eyes held mine like they were waiting for an order I refused to give out loud. Then his gaze dropped again—quick, fleeting—to my lips. “You have to mean it, Cassandra.”

I finally found my voice. “Leave.” And just like that, the spell was broken.

He stepped back, regarding me one last time.

“Take care, Cassandra.”

Hearing my full name from his mouth felt like a punishment. He turned and walked off, calm and unhurried, like he hadn’t just cornered me in a hallway and nearly kissed me.

I waited until his footsteps faded, then darted back into my room, locking the door behind me.

My heart thudded wildly as I leaned against the wood. I didn’t know what scared me more that he might come back or that he might never.