Weight of deceit

The he sky was gray and low, with heavy clouds looming as if nature itself was holding its breath. The quiet street in front of June’s house was still, save for the quiet hum of a sleek black car pulling up to the curb. The door opened, and out stepped Xander Hayes, dressed in a tailored navy-blue coat, holding a bouquet of soft pink peonies and white roses in trembling hands.

His jaw clenched as he stood at the doorstep, eyes fixed on the door like it was a gate to both salvation and doom.

“You can do this,” he whispered to himself, adjusting the collar of his coat and clearing his throat. “Just make her see you're sorry. Make her feel safe. Make her… fall.”

He took a deep breath and knocked.

A minute passed. Then two. He considered walking away until he heard soft footsteps approach from the other side. The door creaked open just enough for June to peek through.

Her eyes narrowed the moment she saw him.

Xander offered a weak, apologetic smile and held up the bouquet. “I… I wasn’t sure if you’d slam the door in my face or call the cops, but I figured flowers were a safer bet.”

June didn’t move. Her expression remained unreadable.

“I’m sorry, June. For the kiss,” he continued, lowering the flowers slowly. “It was out of line. I let my emotions get the best of me. I didn’t mean to push you away or make you feel unsafe. That wasn’t fair to you.”

Still no response. The silence thickened between them.

“But I meant what I said,” he added softly, stepping a little closer to the doorway. “I do care about you. Genuinely. I know you’ve been hurt, and I’m not asking you to trust me overnight. But if you could just… let me in. Let me make things right.”

June sighed and slowly opened the door a little wider, enough to see her full face. Her eyes were tired, wary, but there was something else there too curiosity? A flicker of something that hadn’t entirely died.

“You kissed me without asking, Xander. After everything I told you,” she said, arms folded across her chest. “And then I walked away. I didn’t think you’d come back.”

“I deserve that,” he nodded. “And more. But I’m not here to make excuses. I just… I miss talking to you. Laughing with you. Cooking you dinner and dancing like an idiot just to see you smile.”

He looked down at the flowers in his hand and then offered them again, more gently this time. “I don’t want this to be over because of one stupid moment. Can we start over? As friends, if nothing else.”

June hesitated, biting her lower lip. Her gaze flicked from the flowers to his face, searching for lies, for signs of manipulation… but what she saw was a man trying desperately to fix what he’d broken. And even if she didn’t fully trust him yet, she knew what sincerity felt like.

She took the flowers. “You’re lucky I like peonies.”

Xander’s shoulders slumped with visible relief. “Thank God.”

“But this doesn’t mean everything’s forgiven,” she warned, stepping aside to let him in. “You’ll have to earn back my trust.”

“Of course,” he said, stepping into the warmth of her home. “Whatever it takes.”

As the door closed behind him, Xander forced a smile to hide the inner weight pressing down on his conscience.

She doesn’t deserve this.

She deserves the truth.

But the words of his father echoed in his head like a curse:

“Get her to marry you, Xander. She's the key. Get what we want from Williams, and then walk away.”

He looked at June as she arranged the flowers in a vase, humming softly under her breath.

She wasn’t just “the key.”

She was kind. Strong. Beautiful.

And for the first time in a long time… he wasn’t sure he wanted to walk away at all.

But lies were already building between them like bricks in a wall.

The soft clinking of glass echoed in the kitchen as June poured herself a glass of juice, humming quietly under her breath. She was trying tentatively to enjoy the moment. Xander’s apology had caught her off guard, but his words had seemed genuine. His charm, his sincerity, even his awkward little jokes—it all reminded her of a world that didn’t hurt so much.

Meanwhile, down the hall, Xander stood in the guest bathroom, gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white. The light above the mirror flickered slightly, but he barely noticed. His father’s voice crackled through the speaker, sharp and cold like a blade pressed against the skin.

“You’re wasting time, Xander. One month. That’s all you’ve got.”

“Dad, I told you I’m working on it,” Xander whispered harshly, glancing at the door to make sure June couldn’t hear. “It’s delicate. She doesn’t trust easily. She's been through hell.”

“And you’re playing therapist? You’re not there to coddle her. You’re there to marry her.”

Xander pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to steady his breathing. “This isn’t just some business transaction for me, alright? June is a real person, not a pawn.”

“Cut the emotional nonsense,” his father snapped. “Do you think the board at H&K cares about her feelings? Our merger deal is dying, our stocks are on the floor, and the only leverage we have left is her name. The Williams name still means something to the investors. You marry her, we get access to what’s left of her father's frozen shares, and we clean our slate.”

“I know the stakes”

“No. You don’t,” his father hissed. “You’ve always been weak when it comes to women. Let me break it down for you: one month. Seduce her. Get her drunk, sleep with her do whatever you have to do. Once she’s pregnant, she’ll have no choice but to marry you. Then we take control of the shares, finish the merger, and you can go back to playing hero or whatever nonsense you’re entertaining now.”

Xander’s jaw tightened. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re broke if you fail,” his father said smoothly. “Your inheritance, the trust fund, the company… all of it disappears. I already have your younger cousin ready to step in. Don’t test me, Xander.”

There was silence for a moment. A silence thick with rage, guilt, and helplessness.

“And Xander,” his father added with a snide finality, “Must I teach you everything?”

The call ended with a cold click. Xander stood there, staring at his own reflection in the mirror. He looked nothing like the man he wanted to be. Sweat beaded at his temple, and his heart pounded like a drum of war.

He ran cold water over his hands and stared into the sink, fighting the nausea rising in his throat.

How had he gotten here?

Pretending to love someone he was starting to truly care about. Plotting a future he didn’t even want. And all because of money, power, and a legacy that was rotting from the inside out.

He had never felt smaller.

“Get her drunk. Sleep with her. Make her yours.”

The words repeated in his head like poison.

But when he looked at June kind, bruised, and still trying to rebuild her life he knew one thing for certain:

He could never live with himself if he broke her again.

But could he live with the alternative? Losing everything? Watching his father take it all away?

The bathroom door creaked open slowly. He plastered on a tired smile and stepped out.

June looked up from the kitchen island and gave a small smile of her own. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just a quick call. Business.”

She nodded, sipping her juice. “Business never ends for men like you, huh?”

“No,” he said softly, walking over to her. “But some things are worth more than business.”

June tilted her head, studying his face.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this mask on. But for now, he needed her trust.

And one way or another… he had to make a choice.

And fast.