Page 34 of Forbidden Fruit

She pauses at the threshold of the kitchen, her shoulders tensing. "No, Jack. I meant what I said."

"So that's it? Years together and you're throwing it all away because of one fight?"

Becca turns slowly, and I'm struck by the calm dignity in her expression. "This isn't about one fight. This is about all of them."

Kay steps forward, her face a carefully composed mask of maternal concern. "Becca, darling, couples argue. It's normal. Jack loves you."

"Does he?" Becca asks simply.

The question hangs in the air, unanswered. Jack's mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out. His silence speaks volumes.

I move toward the bar, keeping my movements deliberate, controlled. "Becca, there's fresh ice cream in the freezer if you want some. And the guest suite at the east wing is made up if you'd prefer more privacy."

"Thank you," she says, the simple gratitude in her voice hitting me harder than Jack's punch ever could. “I’m fine where I am now.”

Jack lunges at me again, but he’s too slow for me. I sidestep his clumsy attack, and he stumbles into the bar cart, sending glasses crashing to the floor.

"Enough!" I command, exasperated and enraged. "You're drunk, you're bleeding, and you're making a fool of yourself. Go to bed before you do something else you'll regret."

"The only thing I regret," he slurs, gripping the edge of the bar for support, "is letting my mother convince me you were worth respecting."

Kay gasps, betrayal flashing across her face. "Jack!"

"Oh, don't act surprised, Mother," he spits. "This whole trip was your idea. I told you I don’t want to marry anyone.” He turns to Becca, and the rare look of remorse on his face tells me he immediately regrets his words. “I mean not yet, Becca. Not yet.”

“No, you were right the first time. I think I’ve known it all along.” Becca whispers and the pain in her voice nearly break my heart.

Kay's face pales. "Becca, he's drunk. He has no idea what he's talking about."

"Actually," I interject, unable to stay silent, "that was probably the most honest he’s ever been."

Jack laughs bitterly. "The great Clive Bishop, always so righteous. Tell her, then. Tell Becca how you've been looking at her since the day I brought her home.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and accusatory. I feel Becca's eyes on me, questioning, curious. My jaw tightens.

"This isn't about me," I say cautiously. "This is about how you've treated someone who deserves better."

"It's always been about you!" Jack yells, pounding his palm on the bar. "You always take whatever you want.”

Becca steps in, her voice calm despite the shaking in her hands. "Stop making this about Clive. This is about us, Jack. I know about the other girls–– I’ve always known. Hopefully, one of them will let you move in and take care of you. Because it sure as hell won’t be me.”

"No. It’s not like that—" Jack starts, but I interrupt him.

"Don't," I warn. "Don't lie to her again."

Kay suddenly adopts a conciliatory tone, her social training kicking in as she realizes the situation is spiraling beyond her control. "Everyone's tired and emotional. Let's all get some rest and discuss this in the morning like adults."

"There's nothing to discuss," I say firmly. "My plane will be ready at nine. I expect you both to be on it."

"And what about Becca?" Jack demands. "Is she supposed to stay here with you? How convenient."

I look at Becca, careful to keep my expression neutral despite the hope fluttering in my chest. "Becca is welcome to stay as long as she likes. Or I can arrange for her to fly wherever she wants to go. Her choice."

"Her choice," Jack mimics. "As if you haven't been manipulating this whole situation."

Becca squares her shoulders. "The only person being manipulated here is me, by both of you," she says, looking pointedly at Jack and Kay. "I'm going to bed. Alone."

She turns and walks away, her footsteps fading up the stairs. Jack moves to follow her, but I step in his path again.

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