Chapter 90
The morning air was different.}
For the first time in a long time, I could breathe. Really breathe. No eyes watching my every move. No footsteps behind me that I had to pretend weren’t threatening. No hands to drag me down, silence me, or make me question my own worth.”
I was free. Jackson was no longer part of my life. And though my heart still ached from the wounds he left–some that would never heal–I finally had the space to reclaim who I was. Who I wanted to be.
I was staying with Inigo now.”
Yes, Inigo. The same man I once vowed to destroy. The same man I used to call Jackson’s enemy–and mine by extension. But somehow, he had become my salvation.
At first, everything between us was awkward. Silent. Tense. We were two people with too much history and too many scars, tiptoeing around the wreckage of our past. But as the bruises on my skin began to fade, so did the
Ostility in my chest.” And maybe… maybe I saw him differently now. Not as the villain Jackson painted him to be–but as the man who carried me away when I had nothing left.”
I found him in the garden that morning, lounging in a chair with a mug of coffee, the scent of mint and sunshine all around him.
I cleared my throat. “So… you’re not gonna pretend you don’t see me?“}
He looked up, one brow raised. “Oh? You’re finally ready to talk to me?”
Prolled my eyes and folded my arms. “Well, I was actually waiting for you to talk to me first. I thought you’d be thrilled to gloat.“”
He leaned back in his seat, a slow smirk curling on his lips. “Gloat?”
“Yes. Laugh at me. You know… the woman who swore she’d never want anything to do with you, now sleeping in your guest room and living off your hospitality.”
He let out a low chuckle. “Why would i laugh at that?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Because it’s ironic?”
“I’m laughing because you’re ridiculous.” He set his mug down and looked straight at me. “I’m not enjoying your pain, Samantha. I’m enjoying you. Being near you. Having you here. And knowing no one–not even Jackson–can take you away from me now.“[
I blinked, thrown off by how calm and honest he sounded. Then he grinned, and just like that, my defenses threatened to crumble.
“So,” he said, “are you still marrying me?”
I crossed my arms tighter. “You mean the business deal? Of course. That was the plan.”}
Inigo stood and walked toward me, steps slow, deliberate. “No,” he said quietly. “This is no longer a deal. If you marry me, there’s no divorce. No pretending. No expiration date.“”
My heart thudded in my chest. “You’re serious?“}
He nodded. “Very.”
“I… I can’t give you a child, Inigo. I’m broken. You know what Jackson did to me. What he took.“}
“I don’t care,” he said. “I don’t want an heir. I want you. If you agree to be mine, you don’t get to say goodbye.”
I stared at hirn, stunned.
Then he smiled like he had won the lottery and shrugged, “Don’t worry. You can think about it. I’m not rushing you.”
“Good,” I said quickly, trying to hide the fact that my heart was slowly unraveling.
“Oh, by the way,” he added, walking back to his seat, “I bought shares from Jackson’s company. Half of them. I’m now a board member.“%
My jaw dropped. “You what?”
He sipped his coffee. “Don’t you think that’s fun? I thought it’d be a good engagement present.“”
I couldn’t help the smirk that curled at my lips. “Wow. You really ruined him.“”
“He deserved it,” he said flatly. “So did Candice. Speaking of, I heard they’re getting married. Do you care?“”
“No.“%
I shook my head, but inside, a dull ache settled in my chest. So they really were just waiting for me to disappear. All those late–night whispers, all the secrets behind closed doors–it all made sense now. The betrayal wasn’t sudden; it was planned.
They were just waiting for me to break, to vanish, so they could finally live their fantasy without guilt. I was never part of the future. Just a placeholder until Candice returned. And now that I was gone… they could marry freely. Without shame. Without
11:01 AM .
*
me.”
“Then let’s celebrate.” He stood again, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come with me.“”
Before I could argue, he grabbed the car keys and guided me to the driveway. We drove in silence for a while, until we stopped in front of a small building with a glass façade.\
I stepped out, confused. “What is this place?“\
He opened the door and gestured for me to walk inside.
And there it was.\
Flowers. Everywhere.[
Lilies, peonies, roses, hydrangeas–all arranged like art in a sunlit space. The scent was overwhelming in the best way, like spring had been captured and stored in glass.
I turned to him, stunned. “How did you…?”
D
“You once said you wanted to open a flower shop. I remember.” His tone was soft now, almost shy. “This place has your name on the lease. It’s yours.“}
Tears stung my eyes before I could stop them.
“You remembered that?” I whispered.”
* remember everything.“”
I turned away quickly, overwhelmed. He walked toward me and slipped his hand into mine.<
“I’m not Jackson. I never will be. But I can give you peace. And maybe… if you let me, happiness too.”
I looked around, at the flowers, at the man beside me, and for the first time in years–I felt something real. Maybe this was where healing began.
Maybe this was where I began.
