Page 65 of Worth the Fall

"Stop," Mia says, standing and moving toward me. Her voice is measured, steady, but I’m too worked up to let it calm me down.

"I hate this, Mia," I say, my tone sharp. "I hate that she’s forcing herself into your life, into your career. You’ve worked toodamn hard to get where you are, and she has no right,no rightto put you in this position."

I stop pacing when she places her hand on my arm, her touch light but grounding. "Miguel, breathe," she says firmly, her green eyes locking on mine. "This isn’t helping."

I look down at her, my chest tight, my anger still simmering beneath the surface. "I’m sorry," I say after a long moment, the words catching in my throat. "I’m so sorry, Mia. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any of this."

She steps closer, her other hand resting on my chest, just above my racing heart. "This isn’t your fault," she says softly, her voice steady and sure. "Celine’s choices are hers, not yours."

"I brought this into your life," I counter, my voice breaking slightly. "If it weren’t for me?—"

"Stop," she says, her fingers pressing against my chest. "You didn’t make her do this. You didn’t ask for her to act like this. None of this is on you."

I exhale shakily, my hands running over my face. "It feels like it is. Like every move she makes is just another way to punish me. And now she’s dragging you into it."

"I’m not a victim here, Miguel," Mia says firmly, her voice laced with the quiet strength I’ve come to admire. "I can handle this. And I’m not letting her—or anyone else—derail what I’ve worked for. You need to trust me."

Her words hit me hard, cutting through the haze of anger and guilt. I meet her gaze, my chest tightening at the determination I see there. "You’re incredible, you know that?" I murmur, my voice rough with emotion.

A faint smile tugs at her lips. "I’ve been told."

I let out a soft laugh despite myself, the tension in my chest easing just slightly. I reach up, cupping her cheek, my thumb brushing against her soft skin. "I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this," I say quietly. "Whatever you need, just tell me."

"What I need," she says, her hand covering mine, "is for you to trust me. I’ve got this."

I nod, though the knot in my stomach doesn’t fully loosen. "I trust you," I say, my voice low. "I just wish you didn’t have to deal with this at all."

"Me too," she admits, her smile fading slightly. "But we’ll get through it. Together."

Her words are a balm to the ache in my chest, and for the first time all day, I feel a glimmer of hope. I lean down, pressing my forehead to hers, letting the quiet strength in her presence calm the storm inside me.

The tension in Mia’s office is suffocating. Celine stands near the desk, her usual polished composure slipping just slightly. Her hand grips the strap of her designer handbag, and for the first time in years, she doesn’t look like the self-assured force I’ve come to expect. Instead, there’s something almost… uncertain in her eyes.

Mia sits behind her desk, her spine straight but her hands tightly folded in front of her, the only sign of the stress she’s carefully masking. I lean against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, my frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

"Let’s skip the pretense, Celine," I say sharply, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. "You knew exactly what you were doing when you walked into this firm. You’re not naive. You knew the conflict it would create for Mia, and you knew what it could cost her."

"Miguel," Mia says softly, her voice steady but cautious, like she’s trying to keep me from snapping.

"No," I say, my gaze locked on Celine. "She needs to hear this." I push off the desk, stepping closer to my ex-wife. "You’re a lawyer, Celine. You know the stakes. You know how this could destroy her career, her future. So why? Why would you do this?"

Celine flinches slightly, her grip on her handbag tightening. For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything, her gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder. The silence is unbearable, and my patience snaps.

"Why did you do this?" I demand, my voice rising. "Why come here, knowing what it would do?"

Celine’s lips part like she’s about to respond, but no words come out. She just stares at me, her dark eyes unreadable, and the frustration boils over. I grab my suit coat from the back of the chair, shoving my arms into the sleeves with sharp, jerky movements.

"That’s it," I say, heading for the door. "I’m Mia’s lawyer now. We’re all going to march into her boss’ office and fix this mess right now."

"Miguel, wait," Celine says suddenly, her voice trembling. She reaches out and grabs my arm, stopping me mid-step.

I turn to face her, my anger still burning, but it wavers slightly when I see her. Her bottom lip trembles, and a single tear slides down her cheek. She quickly brushes it away, but her composure is cracked wide open.

"Let me explain," she says, her voice breaking. "I didn’t mean for this to happen."

I stare at her, my frustration still simmering but now tangled with confusion. "Then why?" I ask, softer this time. "Why come here, Celine? What were you trying to accomplish?"

Celine hesitates, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know,” she says quietly. “I was angry. I felt… replaced. Like I didn’t matter anymore. And then I saw how happy you both were, and I—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head as another tear falls. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far.”

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