Page 50 of Strange Seduction (Strange #2)

This Was Never Going To Be Simple.

Day Eighteen.

The door slammed in my face. Hard.

I stood there with the damn ring still warm in my palm, and her scent still on my skin.

Fuck.

I turned away, clutching the doorframe like it might keep me upright. It didn’t. Nothing would. Not now.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

I thought once she saw it all—once she saw how deeply I’d woven her into this new life—she’d realize she belonged here. With me. I wasn’t trying to trap her, and I wasn’t trying to control her. I just… couldn’t stand the idea of her slipping through my fingers.

Again.

The only thing on my mind was the promise I made to her dad. Take care of her.

I was doing a shitty job. I had to be for her to compare me to Wendell and Melissa of all fucking people.

I don’t even know if she realized how deep that cut. But it did. I felt it all the way to the bone. Because if there’s one thing I’ve spent my entire adult life trying not to be, it’s them.

I grew up watching that twisted, manipulative circus act they called a marriage. It was always a game with them. Every time my mother gave a little, she made sure to take something back. And my father? He didn’t love her—he owned her. Or at least tried to.

And Carmen thought I was like that?

That I’d do something as dirty as trap her into staying?

I felt sick.

The idea that she thought I was manipulating her into staying with me was upsetting. I’d never do anything to hurt Carmen intentionally, but she was being stubborn for no reason. Staying in Italy was not the end of the world. And ending our engagement over this was so disappointing.

It made me wonder if she ever truly loved me, if that love could break so easily.

I made it back to the living room, but I didn’t sit. I couldn’t. My chest felt like it was caving in on itself.

Why couldn’t she see I was trying?

Why couldn’t she understand that the idea of going back to that life without her—without waking up next to her, touching her, hearing her voice—felt like a slow death?

She made everything alive.

Now the silence and loneliness were back, and it was crueler than ever.

My phone ringing broke up the quiet.

Mom.

I groaned as I answered it. “Woman, you have a talent for calling me at the worst possible times of my life. Do you know that?”

Her voice came sharp, as if she’d been waiting for this. “Theodore, please. For once, act like this is your mother you’re talking to. Not some bitch off the street.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, already irritated. “What do you want, Mom? What?” My voice came out flatter than I intended.

“I want some damn respect, but it doesn’t look like that’s happening, so maybe I should just hang up.”

I sighed, already seeing where this was headed. “Is this about money?”

A bitter, joyless laugh shot through the speaker. “Ha! You sound just like your father.”

I want to vomit.

“Not everything is about money, Theodore. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for the past month. Now you decide to answer, and you accuse me of being after your money. Made in Wendell’s image.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Mother, it’s late here. I want to go to bed. Why are you calling?”

“Because…” Her voice softened, a tremor underneath. “I want to apologize.”

I froze.

“Come again?”

“I’ve been calling you for weeks because I don’t like how our last conversation went. I want to apologize for my behavior.”

I frowned, confused. “Are you drunk?”

“Theodore,” she said, voice raw, “I’m not going to pretend I’m perfect or that I was the perfect mother. I know I hurt you. I know I’ve hurt your sisters. Hell, I may have even hurt Wendell in some way.”

Her voice cracked, and my throat tightened with it.

I hated how easily she could still pull this kind of response out of me.

“But… seeing what Kassandra is going through with losing Ava, seeing how much pain she’s in, and knowing there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Knowing that I can lose my children and it be all my fault… ”

She paused, breath shaky. “Knowing my actions and drinking habits have pushed you all so far away that Kassandra doesn’t trust me as a shoulder to cry on, Alyssa doesn’t visit even though she lives five minutes away, and you… you moved halfway around the world to get away from me.”

I closed my eyes. “… You had some weight in my decision. But it’s not just you. I have responsibilities.”

“Well,” she said softly, “I know what I know. And whether you like it or not—I know you.”

I opened my eyes slowly. “You don’t.”

“Yes, I do. You’re hurting, Theodore.”

“I’m not.”

“Okay.”

“I’m fine. Perfectly fucking fine!” I spat out, the anger rising. “I don’t need you messing with my head. I have everything I need. I don’t need you or anyone. All I need is Carmen—and you disrespected her, so no. I don’t need a relationship with you. I just need her.”

Her voice lowered, weary. “You’ve made that girl into a damn trophy. What are you going to do if she leaves?”

I snapped. “Did Dad put you up to this? She’s not going anywhere. We’re getting married—whether you two like it or not.”

“ Theodore… ”

“No! Shut the fuck up. She’s not leaving me.”

A silence stretched between us.

“Well,” she said finally, softer, “if you’re this serious about it, you two should come over for Thanksgiving. I’m hosting this year. And I’d like the chance to apologize to you both in person.”

“What?”

“I want to apologize.”

“Why?”

“I want a chance to make it up to you. Please consider it.”

I hung up on Melissa’s bullshit and looked down at the ring in my hand. The one I spent three weeks designing. The one engraved with the date I first laid eyes on her back in Eden—when I knew, before she even spoke, that I was already in too deep.

And now she didn’t even want to wear it.

I let out a sharp laugh, bitter and hollow. I wanted to break something. I wanted to burn down the house. Instead, I walked to the bar cart and poured myself another drink.

I didn’t even taste it.

She was up there crying. And I was down here unraveling.

The silence in the house gnawed at me like rats in the walls. It wasn’t quiet anymore. The echoes of her voice still clung to the stone walls. Her accusations and my justifications ran through the halls.

It didn’t matter who was right. The truth was—we’d both lost.

˙???˙

I sat in the dark long after the fire died, fingers curled around a glass of whiskey I couldn’t remember pouring. I hadn’t slept. I couldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was the look on her face when she gave me the ring back.

That damn ring.

I stared at it in my palm now, like it didn’t belong to me. I dropped the ring on the counter with a hard clink. I couldn’t hold it anymore. I couldn’t look at it.

I ran a hand through my hair and let out a breath I’d been holding since the moment I saw her walking away from me upstairs.

I’d built this entire place with her in mind, down to the smallest detail. And now it felt like a mausoleum for everything I’d hoped for.

She was never supposed to leave.

But maybe… maybe she had to.

I stood and grabbed my phone. I opened the app and arranged a car to take her back to the hotel by noon. I didn’t want her wandering these halls alone. Not after the way things ended. She deserved better than that—better than me.

Then, without thinking, I dialed my assistant.

“Book Carmen a jet,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Back to New York.”

There was a pause on the other end. “For when?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll send you the details.” I hung up without waiting for a reply.

I stared at the screen for a while, my eyes flicked toward the stairs.

For a moment, just a moment, I imagined going up there.

Knocking on the door. Sitting with her and telling her how wrong I got it all.

Not just the house, not just the proposal, but everything.

How I never should’ve spoken to Marcus. How I should’ve asked her what she wanted before trying to give her the world.

How I thought I was building something for us, but in the end, I’d only built a place for her to feel trapped.

I took a step toward the stairs.

Then stopped.

What would I even say? That I was sorry? That I loved her? That it wasn’t supposed to go like this?

She’d heard it all before. Hell, she probably didn’t want to hear anything from me anymore. And maybe—I didn’t deserve to be the one to fix this.

I closed my eyes, jaw tightening as I turned back around. My footsteps echoed too loudly on the marble as I walked to the exit. Her driver would be here in a few hours. I’d be long gone by then.