Page 78
Story: Tempted By Eden
Apologize? Now?
It’s been three months since he tried to take my baby. Every morning, I see him on my way to work, and every morning, I ignore him. I shouldn’t be surprised that he knew I’d be back working Le Jardin tonight.
I make my way to the bed, every muscle tight, like a wire stretched too thin. I’m not about to lose tonight’s pay because of him. If nothing else, I’m going to get some damn sleep. I crawl under the covers, the sheets cool against my skin. I turn my back to him, let my body sink into the mattress.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“What does it look like?” I pull the blanket up to my shoulder, my back still to him. “Go on, this is gonna be good. I’m listening.”
For a moment, he doesn’t move. Then I hear the rustle of fabric, the quiet clink of his belt being unbuckled. My breath catches for a second as I peek over my shoulder. He’s undressing, but when he slides into the bed, he’s still wearing his boxers. A tiny relief, though my guard doesn’t drop.
Good. If he even thinks of coming near me with that monster cock of his…
He leaves a respectful stretch of space between us. I whack my pillow, fluffing it up before sinking into it again.
“I messed up,” James starts. “I thought I was doing what was best for Leo… for Jonathon. I thought I was protecting him. That I was doing what Jon would have wanted.”
The bed shifts as he mirrors my position, lying on his side, facing my back. I don’t move, don’t respond, but my heart pounds against my ribs.
“I know I hurt you, Cora. I hurt you in a way I can’t take back. And I’m fucking sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me right now. But you need to know that I love you. I love you, and I’ll be there for you. Every morning, until you’re ready to let me back in. I’m not going anywhere.”
I stare at the wall, biting the inside of my cheek, trying to keep my breathing steady. I want to stay angry, to keep that shield of bitterness between us. But his words—they’re chipping away at the defenses I’ve tried so hard to keep up.
Rolling onto my back, I stare at the ceiling. My throat is tight, tears brimming behind my eyes. My mouth opens for all the words I want to throw at him—the things I should say, the hurt I should unleash. But my voice betrays me, trembling as I whisper, “You don’t know how much you hurt me.”
James shifts beside me, turning onto his back, our shoulders almost touching. The silence stretches, thick with everything we’ve left unsaid.
“I need time,” I say softly, struggling to get the words out. “You hurt me in a way I can’t just… forget.”
His hand moves under the covers, searching for mine. Our fingers brush together, tentative, and for a moment, I hesitate. Every instinct screams at me to pull away, to hold on to my anger—it’s safer. But then… I don’t. I don’t know why, but in that moment, I just… need something steady. And his hand is there. Our fingers entwined, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension eases. The silence between us feels lighter now, no longer suffocating.
“I get it,” he says quietly. “I’ll wait, Cora. For as long as it takes. I’ll be here, waiting.”
His words are soft but certain. And for once, I believe him. His hand tightens around mine under the covers, a quiet promise. We lie there, side by side. And finally, I allow myself to breathe.
We fall asleep like that, fingers entwined.
Nothing’s fixed. We’re not healed. But for tonight, maybe this fragile connection is all we need to survive the wreckage.
Chapter forty-two
Cora
Three Months Later
“See you tonight, Dad.Love you, Leo!” I call out, slamming the front door behind me. The cold morning air bites at my skin, and I instinctively rub my hands along my arms for warmth. I shrug into my jacket, but then freeze with my fingers on the zipper.
No James.
I stop at the gate, my hand gripping the cold metal, frowning as I scan the street. Empty. No familiar black SUV, no James leaning casually against it, waiting.
I bite the inside of my cheek.
Is he late? Or… did he give up?
For the past six months he’s been as constant as the sunrise. Stationed outside my house, ready to offer me a ride and breakfast. Sometimes he would follow me to the station, other times he would join me on the train. I doubt he’d ever been on public transport before then. I had to press my lips together to stifle a laugh as he glanced around the train with his nose in the air. He always stood in case he dirtied his suit.
He can be such aprincess.
It’s been three months since he tried to take my baby. Every morning, I see him on my way to work, and every morning, I ignore him. I shouldn’t be surprised that he knew I’d be back working Le Jardin tonight.
I make my way to the bed, every muscle tight, like a wire stretched too thin. I’m not about to lose tonight’s pay because of him. If nothing else, I’m going to get some damn sleep. I crawl under the covers, the sheets cool against my skin. I turn my back to him, let my body sink into the mattress.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“What does it look like?” I pull the blanket up to my shoulder, my back still to him. “Go on, this is gonna be good. I’m listening.”
For a moment, he doesn’t move. Then I hear the rustle of fabric, the quiet clink of his belt being unbuckled. My breath catches for a second as I peek over my shoulder. He’s undressing, but when he slides into the bed, he’s still wearing his boxers. A tiny relief, though my guard doesn’t drop.
Good. If he even thinks of coming near me with that monster cock of his…
He leaves a respectful stretch of space between us. I whack my pillow, fluffing it up before sinking into it again.
“I messed up,” James starts. “I thought I was doing what was best for Leo… for Jonathon. I thought I was protecting him. That I was doing what Jon would have wanted.”
The bed shifts as he mirrors my position, lying on his side, facing my back. I don’t move, don’t respond, but my heart pounds against my ribs.
“I know I hurt you, Cora. I hurt you in a way I can’t take back. And I’m fucking sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me right now. But you need to know that I love you. I love you, and I’ll be there for you. Every morning, until you’re ready to let me back in. I’m not going anywhere.”
I stare at the wall, biting the inside of my cheek, trying to keep my breathing steady. I want to stay angry, to keep that shield of bitterness between us. But his words—they’re chipping away at the defenses I’ve tried so hard to keep up.
Rolling onto my back, I stare at the ceiling. My throat is tight, tears brimming behind my eyes. My mouth opens for all the words I want to throw at him—the things I should say, the hurt I should unleash. But my voice betrays me, trembling as I whisper, “You don’t know how much you hurt me.”
James shifts beside me, turning onto his back, our shoulders almost touching. The silence stretches, thick with everything we’ve left unsaid.
“I need time,” I say softly, struggling to get the words out. “You hurt me in a way I can’t just… forget.”
His hand moves under the covers, searching for mine. Our fingers brush together, tentative, and for a moment, I hesitate. Every instinct screams at me to pull away, to hold on to my anger—it’s safer. But then… I don’t. I don’t know why, but in that moment, I just… need something steady. And his hand is there. Our fingers entwined, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension eases. The silence between us feels lighter now, no longer suffocating.
“I get it,” he says quietly. “I’ll wait, Cora. For as long as it takes. I’ll be here, waiting.”
His words are soft but certain. And for once, I believe him. His hand tightens around mine under the covers, a quiet promise. We lie there, side by side. And finally, I allow myself to breathe.
We fall asleep like that, fingers entwined.
Nothing’s fixed. We’re not healed. But for tonight, maybe this fragile connection is all we need to survive the wreckage.
Chapter forty-two
Cora
Three Months Later
“See you tonight, Dad.Love you, Leo!” I call out, slamming the front door behind me. The cold morning air bites at my skin, and I instinctively rub my hands along my arms for warmth. I shrug into my jacket, but then freeze with my fingers on the zipper.
No James.
I stop at the gate, my hand gripping the cold metal, frowning as I scan the street. Empty. No familiar black SUV, no James leaning casually against it, waiting.
I bite the inside of my cheek.
Is he late? Or… did he give up?
For the past six months he’s been as constant as the sunrise. Stationed outside my house, ready to offer me a ride and breakfast. Sometimes he would follow me to the station, other times he would join me on the train. I doubt he’d ever been on public transport before then. I had to press my lips together to stifle a laugh as he glanced around the train with his nose in the air. He always stood in case he dirtied his suit.
He can be such aprincess.
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