Chapter 17

Ah…mm…ahhh…

Kate breathed so heavily, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. The sound filled the room a mixture of having so much pleasure.

I turned her around to face me now, my hands firm on her shoulders. The dim light of the bedroom cast shadows across her features, highlighting the flush on her cheeks, the way her lips parted as she struggled to catch her breath.

"You have been a slur lately," I said, my voice low and measured. "What happened?"

Her eyes flickered with something hurt, perhaps, or anger. Maybe both. She pulled away from my grip, wrapping her arms around herself like a shield.

"If I get you off this easy," she said, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hands, "maybe you can finally divorce Sophia."

The words hit me like a physical blow. My entire body went rigid, my jaw clenching so hard I thought my teeth might crack. The mention of that name her name sent ice coursing through my veins.

The smile Kate had been carrying vanished the moment she saw my expression. She knew what that meant.

"I'm not divorcing her," I said, each word deliberate, controlled. A warning wrapped in silk.

Kate's eyes widened, then narrowed. She let go of my hand when she had taken it, and stepped back.

"So what?" she demanded, her voice rising. "You just keep me on the side forever?"

I said nothing. What could I say? That she was right? That I had been stringing her along, using her as a distraction from the chaos of my own life? That every moment with her was an attempt to forget, to escape, to feel something other than the crushing weight of responsibility?

"You said you love me!" she screamed, her voice cracking at the top of her lungs.

I flinched. The sound echoed off the walls, reverberating through the room like a gunshot. My composure slipped just for a moment but it was enough. She saw it. She saw the guilt written across my face like a confession.

"I only said that in bed," I replied, my voice cold, detached. A defence mechanism I had perfected over years of navigating treacherous waters. "You actually brought it."

The look on her face the way her features crumpled, the way her eyes glistened with unshed tears it should have broken me. It should have made me take it back, apologise, do something to ease her pain.

But I didn't.

I couldn't.

"Then tell me," she whispered, her voice barely audible now. "What am I to you?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but she didn't give me the chance.

"Some hooker you call up and dismiss whenever you like?" she spat, the words dripping with bitterness.

"No!" I said, the word escaping before I could stop it. The denial was automatic, instinctive. But even as I said it, I knew it rang hollow.

"But I'm sorry," I continued, my voice softer now. "I can't divorce Sophia. She's family to me now. Once she gets her memory back, I promise you we will be done. I won't stand in your way. I promise you."

The words tasted like ash on my tongue.

Kate stared at me, her expression unreadable. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

Then, without warning, I pushed her against the wall.

The impact was soft; I would never hurt her, not truly but it was enough to make her gasp. I moved in close, my body pressing against hers, my breath hot on her face. My hand found her chin, tilting her head up, forcing her to meet my gaze.

"Until then," I murmured, my voice a low rumble, "I'll make sure you never forget me."

I leaned in, my lips inches from hers, ready to place a kiss that would silence her protests, that would erase the hurt in her eyes, that would make her forget everything except this moment.

But she pushed me.

So hard that I stumbled backwards, my back hitting the opposite wall with a thud. I stared at her, genuine shock coursing through me.

"Get the hell away from me!" she yelled, her voice raw with emotion.

She stood there her chest heaving, eyes blazing with a fire I had never seen in her before. She looked magnificent fierce and unbroken and utterly magnificent.

"Thinking you're getting back with Sophia?" she continued, her voice dripping with contempt. "Dream on."

She turned, grabbed her gown from where it had been discarded on the floor, and walked out of the room. The door slammed behind her with a finality that echoed through the empty space.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door.

Then, slowly, a smile spread across my face.

"Well then," I murmured, running my hand through my hair, "do what suits you."

The words hung in the air.

I moved to the bathroom, stripped off my clothes, and stepped into the shower. The hot water cascaded over my body, steam filling the small space until I could barely see. I closed my eyes, letting the water wash away the sweat.

But it couldn't wash away the thoughts.

They swirled in my mind like a storm chaotic, impossible to control.