Kael’s POV
I stare at the man in the mirror and hate what I see. The athletic build, the sharp jawline, the 'striking' blue eyes—it's all a lie. A perfectly packaged, expensive lie.
Maeve's face is stuck in my head, a permanent fixture for the last three days. Those forest green eyes, the way her hair falls in soft waves…stunning
Despite that, my world deemed her 'plain' compared to women like Gia, who look Photoshopped into existence. My world is full of idiots.
I can hear them downstairs. My family and Gia planning the engagement party like this is normal, like I didn't just destroy my wife at a public gala three days ago.
Mother's voice carries through the closed door—she wants me to hear.
"The first wife running away is perfect optics, actually. Makes Kael the victim." A pause, probably sipping her morning prosecco. "We'll plant stories about her instability. Foster care trauma, you know how those girls are."
Vera's laugh cuts through like nails on a chalkboard. "Did you see her face at the gala? I got it on video. Thinking about posting it—'When You Realize You're Not Enough.'"
My hands grip the marble countertop hard enough to hurt.
Gia's voice floats up, as sweet poison. "Now, ladies, we shouldn't be cruel." A calculated pause. "Though I must say, if she loved him, wouldn't she fight for him? Running away seems rather... weak."
A fresh wave of sickness rolls through me. I should go downstairs and tear them apart for even speaking her name. I should defend my wife like I always did.
I should go downstairs and tear them apart instead. Should defend Maeve like I always did at Princeton. When I'd cut people off mid-sentence for so much as looking at her wrong.
But defending her means explaining why I announced Gia.
And I can't do it. Not yet. The circumstances, the pressure, the impossible fucking situation... none of it excuses what I'm doing.
Princeton library slams into my memory uninvited. Spring of Maeve's senior year, me already graduated and working at Dareth Industries but flying back every weekend because I couldn't stand being away from her.
I'd reserved the entire library after hours, filled it with candles and flowers like some romantic idiot. She'd walked in and just stopped. Hand over her mouth, tears already falling, and I hadn't even gotten on one knee yet.
"Kael, what—"
"Marry me." I'd pulled out my grandmother's ring, the one I'd been carrying in my pocket for two months. "Maeve Winters, marry me and let me spend the rest of my life proving you chose right."
She'd cried and said ‘yes’ and I'd taken her right there, against the library’s shelves. Because waiting until we got back to her dorm felt impossible. Among the stacks where we first met, her dress pushed up, my hands in her hair, both of us trying to stay quiet and failing completely.
I'd been obsessed with her. Sexually, emotionally, physically.
Completely fucking obsessed.
The way she looked when she laughed at my shitty jokes. The way she came undone beneath me, back arching, my name on her lips like a prayer. The way she studied with her bottom lip caught between her teeth, so focused she wouldn't notice me watching her for an hour straight.
I'd wanted her constantly those first years. Couldn't keep my hands off her during our engagement. Spent hours learning every way to make her moan my name, every sensitive spot, every whispered word that made her melt.
Then everything changed. The week before the wedding.
Information that shattered my entire world, recontextualized everything I thought I knew. Suddenly every touch felt like a lie, every kiss tasted of betrayal—not hers, but mine.
I couldn't look at her without drowning in guilt. Couldn't touch her without feeling like a fraud. Like I was stealing something that wasn't mine anymore, that maybe never was.
So I stopped. Stayed cold. Stayed distant. Told myself it was temporary until I figured out what the fuck to do.
Our wedding night almost broke me. I fucked her desperately, memorizing every sound she made, every place she liked to be kissed. Knowing it might be the last time before everything fell apart.
Before she found out what I knew. What I'd done by not telling her.
She'd whispered "I love you" against my mouth. I'd nearly confessed everything right there. Nearly told her the truth while I was still inside her, while she was looking at me like I was her entire world.
But I didn't.
Because apparently I'm a fucking coward.
The past two months have been torture. Seeing her waiting in that black lace lingerie killed me. I had to walk past her like she was furniture and lock myself in my office, just to stop myself from breaking.
Locking myself in my office because if I got into bed beside her, I'd break. I'd pull her into my arms and ruin everything by telling her the truth I'm not allowed to tell.
My phone rings.
Father, right on schedule with more bad news. "The investigator found her. Cheap hotel in Queens."
Relief floods through me so hard my knees almost buckle. She's alive. She's safe.
Immediately followed by shame so thick I might choke on it. She's hiding in Queens while I live in our penthouse, planning an engagement party to another woman.
"I'm going to get her," I say.
"Don't." Mother's voice—standing behind the door in my bedroom. "Let her cool off. The party's in three days. She'll come back when she realizes she has nowhere else to go."
"She's my wife."
"And Gia is your future. The arrangement is already made. Gia's family expects—" She stops abruptly. "Expected results. You made a commitment."
The arrangement. The commitment.
The strings now attached to every fucking decision in my life.
“Kael, if I may,” Father interrupted, his voice careful. “Maeve hasn't left the hotel in three days. The hotel staff report hearing crying... through the walls.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. Crying. For three days straight, alone in some shitty room, because of me. My nails dig into my palms, needing the pain to ground me before I put my fist through this mirror.
While my family plans parties and I stand in my bathroom hating myself.
This is who I've become. The man who broke the woman who loved him, who fought the world for him, who never asked for anything but honesty.
I still remember some asshole spray-painting "charity whore" on her dorm door. Me breaking his nose, getting suspended, not giving a single fuck because nobody touches my girl.
Now I'm the one touching her. Destroying her. And my mother's cheering me on.
I just wish I could tell her why. Why I married Gia. Why I stopped touching her. Why I love her but can't be with her the way I want to.
But the truth would destroy everything. The truth would… I don't even know what the truth would do anymore. Just that I'm too much of a coward to risk it.
"So Maeve cries in Queens. And I stand in my penthouse bathroom, looking at a man I don't recognize. A man who is everything... except worthy of her."
"Son” Father says, his voice suddenly tight. 'There's one more thing. We aren't the only ones here. Someone else is watching the hotel.'"