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“May I give you a hand?”
That voice. Soft. Familiar.
“Carter.”
He’s looking up at me with those storm-colored eyes.
“Sure,” I murmur, slipping my hand into his. He helps me into the car, and the driver shuts the door behind me.
It’s quiet at first, the air between us thick. Then he reaches out his hand, palm open.
After a moment of hesitation, I take it.
“You look… gorgeous,” he says.
“Thanks. You too.”
“I guess you have good taste,” he jokes lightly.
“Maybe in looks. Not so much in character,” I fire back.
I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. Instead, I stare down at my hands resting in my lap, fingers tangled together like they’re holding me together, too.
“I deserve that,” he says, his voice dropping. “Ivy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything that happened. About not reaching out. I should’ve trusted you, should’ve believed there was more to the story. I love you. And if you give me another chance, I swear, baby, I will never hurt you again,” he finishes, reaching for my hand.
But I don’t move. Don’t flinch. My hands stay folded in my lap like they’re cemented there.
Because if I let him touch me—I might break. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to put the pieces back together again.
I roll my eyes, heart pounding. “Carter, it’s not just that you didn’t reach out—you ignored every call, every message. I tried. I reached out in every way I could. You think pulling up in a fancy car and dropping a few apologies fixes that? I showed up at your office. Twice. Sat there for hours. And you knew. You saw me. I called your name. You looked right at me from that second-floor balcony—and you walked away. After that, your receptionist said you’d be busy the rest of the day.”
“I was angry, Ivy. Hurt. I thought the woman I loved betrayed me. And I lashed out because I didn’t know what else to do. Please, Ivy, I need you to forgive me.”
“No, Carter. You hurt me. You ghosted me like I never mattered. And I’ve been back and fourth about all of this but now I realize, if it weren’t for this baby, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You got over me. You forgot me the moment you left Hawaii, just like I knew you would. I was just someone to pass the time with, just admit it. If you really loved me, even if you thought I betrayed you—you would’ve fought for me. But I messed with your business. With your money. That’s what mattered.”
I open the door to leave, but he grabs my hand.
“Ivy, I know I screwed up. But I do love you. You mean everything to me.”
I chuckle bitterly. Shake my head. Slowly, I slide my hand free.
“Goodbye, Carter. I promise I’ll call you when your son is born.”
I step out and spot Vanessa, her expression caught somewhere between fear and guilt.
“I guess you had something to do with this?” I ask.
“I take it that didn’t go the way he planned?”
I want to be mad. But what’s the point? “Are we still going to the wedding, or was this all just some stunt to raise my blood pressure?”
“There’s still a wedding,” she says gently, looping her arm through mine. “Come on. Let’s take my car.”
We walk in silence. When we’re buckled in, she asks, “Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
The ride stays quiet. But comforting.