Page 11 of Meesha & Connor (What Happens In Vegas #2)

The maple syrup containers mock me, each one perfectly tied with a silver ribbon. Mementos of a wedding that will never happen.

Five days since I walked away from her, and I still can’t bring myself to dispose of them. Maybe a part of me can’t accept it’s over.

I lean back in my office chair, rubbing my eyes as fatigue settles deeper into my bones. Sleep has become a luxury I can’t afford, my mind constantly replaying her mouth on another man’s.

Her voice haunts me, the desperation in them as she stood in the foyer over the past days and Maman coolly informing her I wasn’t available. Again.

“Please, just five minutes. I need to explain...”

Ten years of memories flood my consciousness—her smile after we’d had sex for the first time, the way she’d curl against me during thunderstorms, her determination to learn French just to impress Maman.

The depth of my love crashes against the wall of her betrayal, leaving me breathless with its force. Calisse de calisse, I miss her so much it hurts. Despite everything, I miss her.

My phone vibrates with another message from her. The sixteenth today.

Please don’t throw away our love. Je t’aime, Connor. I’ve never loved anyone but you.

I almost reach for it, almost break my self-imposed silence. But the image of Dennis’s smug face at Kamal’s party resurfaces, and my fingers curl into a fist instead.

How do you forgive the one person you trusted most for breaking your heart?

The sharp rap on my office door breaks through my reverie. Before I can respond, the door swings open.

“Enough of this hiding, amigo,” Antonio announces, striding in with the confidence of someone who’s never doubted his welcome. His Portuguese accent thickens as he adds, “Your m?e tried to send us away, but we not going anywhere.”

Jaxon and Kamal file in behind him, both carrying paper bags that smell distinctly of our usual game night food. The normalcy of their presence—on a day that feels anything but normal—is disconcerting.

“Bruh, you look like hell,” Kamal says, setting down containers of wings on my desk, carefully avoiding the wedding favors. His eyes linger on them before meeting mine with compassion rather than pity. “We figured if you weren’t answering calls, we’d bring dominoes to you.”

“Not now, esti,” I mutter, turning away from them.

Jaxon positions himself directly in my line of sight. “Connor, it’s been five days. You can’t close yourself off.”

“Watch me.” I gesture toward the door. “J’ai besoin d’être seul. I need to be alone.”

Antonio exchanges glances with the others before settling heavily into the chair across from me. “Maybe this break is for the best, you know?”

My head snaps up, jaw tightening. “There is nothing ‘for the best’ about this situation.”

Kamal nods. “Ten years with just one woman... maybe you both need to see what else is out there.”

I stand so abruptly my chair crashes against the wall behind me. “You think this is about needing variety? About getting bored?” My fingers grip the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white. “Tabarnac! This isn’t some casual fling that ran its course!”

“All I’m saying,” Antonio continues, undeterred, “is that Dennis guy seemed pretty into her, and—”

“Ta gueule, esti!” The words explode from me as I slam my palm against the desk. Maple syrup bottles topple over and roll across the surface. “Crisse! Don’t you dare suggest she belongs with anyone else.”

The room falls silent. Kamal raises an eyebrow, while Jaxon studies me with renewed interest.

“So you still love her,” Jaxon says. It’s not a question.

I exhale slowly, the anger draining. “Of course, I still love her. That was never the problem.”

Kamal’s expression softens. “Then what’s the real issue here, man? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, you’re both miserable without each other.”

“Trust,” I say quietly, my fingers returning to the medallion at my neck. “Once it’s broken...”

Antonio leans forward, his usual bravado momentarily set aside. “Sometimes the strongest things are those that have been broken and repaired, meu amigo.”

“I don’t know if I can be that strong.”

Jaxon begins setting up the dominoes on the corner of my desk, clearing away the wedding favors with careful hands. “You’ve got two options, Connor. You can either let this destroy what you’ve built, or you can find a way through it.”

“It’s not so simple, tabarnac,” I protest.

“Never said it was simple.” Kamal pulls up another chair, sliding into it backward with his arms resting on the backrest. “You’re not the only one who’s hurting.”

“She cheated on me with a stranger,” I mutter.

“She crossed a line,” Jaxon acknowledges.

“Nobody’s excusing that. But ask yourself what matters more.

Punishing her or recognizing that she’s spent ten years showing you who she really is.

The woman who’s loved you faithfully for years.

Everyone fails the people they love at some point, Connor.

The question is whether this one failure defines your entire relationship. ”

“And let’s be honest, you failed her too, meu amigo. You let your mother move your ex into your house without consulting her. You lied about where you were during the blizzard,” Antonio added.

I start to protest, but Jaxon cuts me off. “Both of you messed up, man. Different ways, sure, but neither of you is perfect here.”

A heavy silence falls over the room as Jaxon’s words sink in. I open my mouth to argue, then close it again, suddenly too exhausted to continue the debate.

Kamal clears his throat. “Look, we didn’t come here to lecture you.” He reaches for the takeout containers. “We came to distract you with greasy food and dominoes.”

Antonio nudges a plate toward me. “Eat something, homem. You can’t think straight on an empty stomach.”

I hesitate, eyeing the food, then grab a wing, realizing I can’t remember my last meal.

“Double-six goes first,” Jaxon announces as he finishes arranging the tiles, pushing one toward each of us.

Antonio picks up his dominoes with a confident smirk. “Prepare to lose,” he says. “My grandmother taught me domino strategy before I could walk.”

Despite everything, I feel the corner of my mouth twitch upward. “Tes grand-mères aren’t here to help you now.”

The game begins, our hands moving pieces across the desk as conversation flows more naturally. After several moves, Jaxon remarks casually, “Antonio, are you finally going to tell us why I saw Jasmine leaving your suite in Vegas?”

Kamal holds up his palm in protest. “Look, let’s not discuss this, a’ight? I had plans for that woman.”

I glance up from my dominoes, momentarily distracted from my strategy. “Plans? You?”

“He has a crush on Jasmine,” Jaxon offers, placing another domino.

Kamal shoots Antonio a dark look. “Well, clearly it wasn’t mutual,” he says.

“Jasmine’s off limits,” Antonio says, his tone casual but with an edge. “Just so we’re clear.”

The table falls silent for a beat. Jaxon raises an eyebrow, exchanging a quick glance with Kamal.

“Noted,” Kamal says with a shrug. “Besides, I wasn’t planning on marrying Jasmine until we’re in our sixties, anyway.” He looks directly at Antonio. “She’ll be a beautiful widow.”

Antonio’s eyes narrow, but the corner of his mouth twitches. “In your dreams, man.”

As my friends’ banter continues around me, their words fade into background noise. What matters more? My wounded pride or the woman I’ve loved for a third of my life?

I’ve spent five days replaying her betrayal, but what about the thousands of days before that? The countless moments when she chose me, supported me, loved me unconditionally.

“Connor?” Jaxon’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Your move.”

I stare at the dominoes, suddenly seeing beyond the game on my desk to the larger one I’ve been playing. By isolating myself, refusing her calls, I’ve been punishing us both.

Our relationship won’t heal with one conversation or sex. Our journey back requires honesty and choosing progress over retreating into hurt.

The work ahead will substantial, but so is the reward; a lifetime with the woman I love, made stronger by the fracture we’ve survived.

“I need to go,” I say abruptly, standing up.

The guys exchange glances. “Where are you headed?” Antonio asks, though his knowing expression suggests he already has the answer.

“To find your sister. Right now, là.”

Jaxon’s face breaks into a satisfied grin. “About damn time.”

I move quickly through the house, my mind suddenly clear. Upstairs, I shower, shave and get dressed. When I descend the stairs, Maman stands at the bottom.

“Where are you going, mon fils?” Her tone carries a note of suspicion.

“To see Meesha.”

Her mouth tightens into a thin line. “Why? That girl never deserved you. This is your chance to move back to Canada and find someone worthy.” Her voice softens, becoming almost gentle. “Frédérique—”

“Stop, Maman.” I turn to face her fully, no longer willing to sidestep the truth. “I’ve allowed your interference for too long,” I continue, my voice low but resolute. “You’ve undermined my relationship with Meesha from the beginning. No more.”

Her face pales. “I would never—”

“You’ve done nothing but. The constant criticism. Bringing Fréd here. Calling the caterer behind our backs.”

“I only want what’s best for you—” she reaches toward me, her hand hovering in the space between us.

“What’s best for me is the woman I love.” I take a deep breath before saying the words I should have years ago. “I need you to understand something clearly. If you can’t respect my choices, if you continue trying to manipulate my relationships, I will cut you out of my life.”

Her face drains of color. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I love you, Maman. But I choose Meesha. I will always choose her.”

Her eyes widen with shock. “You would choose her over your own mother?”

“I shouldn’t have to choose at all.” I grab my jacket and keys. “But yes, if forced, I choose Meesha.”

“Even with her infidelity?” The question is a last attempt to wound me.

“Even with her mistake,” I correct firmly.

Maman’s shoulders sag. “And if she hurts you again?”

“Then I’ll deal with it,” I say, softening my tone.

“But that’s for me to decide, not you. When I return with Meesha, I expect you to treat her with respect.

” I step toward the door, pausing for one final clarification.

“And Maman? Fréd needs to start packing. We can find you a nurse here if you truly need one.”

Her lips part in shock, but I’m already moving, propelled by clarity and purpose. Trust can be rebuilt. Hearts can heal. But a life without Meesha isn’t one I’m willing to live.