Page 13 of This Is Our Forever

The room is dark, the curtains drawn. I don’t bother with the lights as I head straight to the bar.

The quiet clink of glass fills the silence while I pour a generous amount of scotch, the amber liquid catching the faint glow in the room.

I take a long sip and relish the burn as it slides down my throat. But even that familiar warmth can’t chase away the cold that’s settled in my chest, the icy grip of doubt.

Each repetition of her accusation cuts deeper into my mind.You were sleeping with other women.

I’ve always been faithful. Always. From the moment I met her, from that first touch, I knew she was it for me. The only one. The thought of betraying her is unimaginable.

But then, a memory surfaces—one I had thought little of at the time. Brad, grinning at me over the rim of a Solo cup at a party, eyes glossy with mischief. “Dude, I borrowed your key last night. Hope you don’t mind. Had a crazy hot chick over, and my place was a mess.”

I’d laughed it off, too distracted by thoughts of Amelia and our future to give it a second thought. But now, in the harsh light of her accusation, that moment takes on a sinister meaning.

If Brad had used my apartment to hook up with someone, could Amelia have seen it? Could she have thought it was me?

My blood boils. If Brad’s recklessness caused this—if he’s the reason for the years of silence and heartache between Amelia and me—I’ll never forgive him. I’ll make him pay for every second of pain he’s caused.

But even that won’t be enough. Not enough to undo the damage. Not enough to fix what’s been broken.

I need to talk to her. To explain. To make her understand that I’ve never betrayed her, that she was, and always will be, the only one for me.

I glance at my watch. It’s too late to see her now.

Tomorrow, I tell myself.Tomorrow, I’ll find her. I’ll make her listen.

I drain the last of the scotch and set the empty glass on the table. The alcohol hasn’t dulled the ache inside me, hasn’t filled the hollow feeling of loss.

I strip off my clothes and collapse into bed, the sheets cold and impersonal. I stare at the ceiling, the weight of the day pressing down on me like a suffocating shroud.

Sleep doesn’t come easily, but when it does, it’s filled with dreams of Amelia—her smile, her warmth, her love. When I wake, the dream slips away, leaving behind only the sharp reality of lost love and an unsolved mystery.

I scrub my hands over my face, shaking off the remnants of sleep, but the heaviness of last night crashes into me, threatening to pull me under. I force it back. There’s no room for that now.

I climb out of bed, driven by one thing: to explain everything to her, to make her see. Because a love like ours is worth fighting for—worth risking everything for. And I will not stop until I’ve won her back.

I won’t.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

AMELIA

The sun hangs low as I navigate the streets of my hometown.

I’m not proud of running away like this, but the alternative—facing Nathan’s questions and risking the truth of Dylan’s parentage coming out—is a prospect I can’t bear. The fear of losing my son, of seeing him torn away by the wealth and influence of the Grant family, is a constant ache, an ever-present shadow.

Jules had been as supportive as ever when I told her my plan.

“Go.” Her voice was soft but resolute. “Take some time. Clear your head. Nancy and I can handle everything here.”

Guilt and gratitude emerged. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you overwhelmed.”

She waved away my concern, her smile bright. “Please. You haven’t taken a break since Dylan was born. It’s time, Amelia. Time for you to breathe.”

With a hug that said more than words ever could, I packed our bags and left, my heart heavy but my resolve firm.

Now, turning onto the tree-lined street of my childhood, memories rush in. Playing in the front yard. Laughter echoing through the house. Love filling every corner. It’s bittersweet—everything familiar, yet so much has changed.

The crunch of gravel beneath the tires comforts me as I pull into the driveway. The house looks the same, with bright white paint and colorful flower beds. It’s a piece of the past, untouched by the chaos that has shaped my present.

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