Page 53 of The Billionaire’s Betrayal (Billionaires of Paris #2)

TRISTAN

My body was healing little by little. The headaches, once so violent they would nail me to my bed for hours, were becoming more bearable and less frequent.

My concentration was slowly returning, like a sore muscle you're learning to use again.

I could finally focus on simple tasks without being immediately overwhelmed by the fatigue that had brought me to my knees.

My mind was gradually regaining the clarity needed to process information efficiently.

After weeks of battling pain and exhaustion, I was slowly taking back control of my life. This progress, though slow, offered me immense comfort. But most importantly, it allowed me to focus on what truly mattered: winning Eva back.

At first, I had set simple goals for myself that didn't require complex reasoning.

My mother suggested I learn to cook with her personal chef, and the idea of preparing meals for Eva thrilled me.

My heart swelled with anticipation at the thought of her surprised expressions.

It was through doing this that I understood a reality that had escaped me: preparing a meal for those you love is an act of love, a silent offering.

Since then, each of our meals took on deeper meaning.

It was a moment of sharing and rediscovered complicity.

In the evenings, we would snuggle against each other to watch a movie or series together, but our favorite moments were our rambling conversations.

Those instances where our voices mingled in the dim light reminded me why I had fallen in love with her.

I even managed to return to work for a few hours.

I rediscovered the pleasure of collaborating with Eva, and I marveled at the constructive dynamic that was being reborn between us.

Her sharp intelligence, her creativity, her way of taking on my professional challenges with that passion that lit up her eyes.

.. It was a shame it had taken going through so many trials to remind me of this.

Guilt was eating away at me. Too caught up in my financial empire, I had forgotten to nurture my relationship with Eva.

It was crazy how pride can blind us sometimes.

I had so neglected my relationship with Eva that I had let Audrey slip between us.

That thought made my stomach turn. But that was over now.

Community Pilot, my mother, my social obligations – all of that now took a back seat.

I devoted all my energy to making Eva happy.

I showered her with gifts, seeking anything that might please her or catch her eye.

Every day, a piece of jewelry from Cartier, a Hermès bag, or custom-made clothing awaited her.

Our penthouse now overflowed with sculptures by artists she admired.

It wasn't guilt that motivated my actions, but I had realized during my wanderings just how rare and precious what we had was, and that it needed to be nurtured.

At first, Eva protested against my excesses, then she ended up laughing about them.

"You're impossible, Tristan! If you keep this up, we won't have any room left in the house."

"Then I'll buy you a bigger house," I replied, my heart light from hearing her laugh.

"A house? When we work right in the heart of Paris?"

In the evenings, I made her travel through my cooking. On weekends, I surprised her by taking her on trips to Ibiza, Prague, or Istanbul. We laughed a lot. Those bursts of laughter were like balm on my wounded soul.

Despite all this, I felt that a major dark spot remained, like a shadow over our rediscovered happiness.

We weren't making love. Despite a few kisses exchanged, we were living like simple roommates.

At night, we slept in separate bedrooms. At first, my health problems had prevented me from wanting anything else.

But as I healed, my heart and body became increasingly insistent, demanding the presence and tenderness of my companion.

Every night was torture. Every day, I dreamed of feeling the warmth of her body against mine, of finding comfort in her arms again, of intoxicating myself with her perfume.

Frustration was eating away at me like poison.

This situation couldn't continue. It was hurting both of us.

My heart pounded in my chest every time I caught her gaze.

Tonight, I couldn't take it anymore. We had to talk.

"Eva, we can’t keep going this way, we need to talk," I said, my voice rougher than I would have liked. "I need to get my partner back, to hold you in my arms, to make love to you. Tell me what I need to do to regain your trust. What do I have to do for you to give me a real second chance?"

My voice broke slightly on the last words. The anxiety of her rejection was choking me.

She bit her lower lip and looked away. That gesture, which I knew so well, tore me apart.

"Talk to me, Eva, tell me something..." I pleaded, moving toward her. "Tell me you hate me if that's what you feel, but talk to me. I can't stand this wall between us anymore."

Despair was taking hold of me. Every second of silence was torture.

She remained motionless, silent, eyes downcast, and I was beginning to despair when she finally took a deep breath.

"What guarantees do I have that you won't start looking at another woman again in five or ten years?"

Her voice, barely more than a whisper, was filled with sadness and mistrust. The pain in her eyes stabbed my heart. Seeing her doubt me so much was breaking me, but at least she was finally talking to me.

"What happened with Audrey will never happen again, because I'll be more careful from now on," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady.

"If I had kept Audrey at a distance from the start, none of this would have happened.

I was arrogant and reckless, convinced I could play with fire without suffering the consequences.

I thought I could enjoy the excitement of first emotions without jeopardizing what mattered most."

My throat tightened. The next words cost me, but they were necessary.

"My behavior was inexcusable, and I'm ashamed of myself.

Shame eats away at me every day. I've learned my lesson.

I'll never take our relationship lightly again.

I love you, Eva, more than anything. Without you, nothing else matters.

I'm asking for your forgiveness for taking so long to realize how essential you are to my life.

If you agree to give me a second chance, I promise to choose you every day.

I'll never let another woman get close to me again. "

She stared at me in silence, weighing my words, and I held my breath before she continued.

"What hurt me the most wasn't Audrey... It was when you stopped talking to me, when you erased me from your life as if I had never mattered to you."

Tears slid down her cheeks, and they burned me like acid. Each tear was a silent reproach that tore me apart.

"That's what terrifies me, Tristan... That you could erase me from your life... Do you remember the day you told me I was suffocating you?"

The blow hit home. Had I really said that to her? The memory floated for a moment, painfully precise. Yes, I remembered. Cornered by my confused feelings, I had spat out those words like a defense, without measuring their destructive impact.

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of my guilt crushing me. How could I have been so cruel?

"What if our love became toxic, like your parents'?" she continued.

"We won't let that happen. I swear you'll always be my priority," I replied with a fervor.

"What if I can't do it? What if I don't know how to love you anymore without feeling this betrayal?"

The vulnerability in her voice was breaking my heart. She was so fragile, so wounded because of me. Slowly, I moved my hands toward her, keeping them a few inches from her skin, respecting that invisible barrier she had erected between us.

"Then I'll keep trying... for as long as it takes," I murmured in a soft voice, my throat tight with emotion. "Because I love you, Eva. And I'll never stop fighting for you."

I felt each word resonate deeply within me, like an oath carved into my soul. Love is a choice. Every day, you choose to stay committed, to continue loving despite doubts, wounds, and silences.

"Love is a choice, and I choose you, Eva. Now and forever."

A long silence settled between us. Her tears continued to flow softly, and each one pierced through me.

I wiped them away with my fingertips, struggling to contain my own.

I had hurt her so much, but I would spend my life making her happy.

She closed her eyes at this gesture, and when she reopened them, the invisible distance separating us seemed to have faded, just a little.

My heart raced with hope.

I leaned down gently and kissed her with all the tenderness I could muster, as if not wanting to frighten her. Eva melted into my arms, and I held her close, relieved to finally feel her defenses crumble.

Little by little, desire awakened between us, chasing away the shadows of the past. Our gazes met, charged with a new intensity that took my breath away, and time seemed to stop.

My fingers brushed her cheek, tracing a line of fire along her neck in a caress that was hesitant at first, then more confident.

Her breathing quickened as my lips found hers in a kiss that tasted of reconciliation and promise.

"I love you," I murmured against her lips. "I love you so much, Eva."

She responded by pressing her body against mine, her hands gripping my shirt as if she was afraid I might disappear. This vulnerability, this trust she was granting me again, overwhelmed me.