Page 74 of Confusing Cade
How could I have been so blind?
Finally, she set it down, her gaze lifting to mine, a storm of emotions swirling there: lingering shock, that raw anger from before, and beneath it, a vulnerability that made me want to pull her close and shield her from the world.
“This explains everything,” she whispered, her voice thick. “But it doesn’t erase what you did to me, Cade.”
“I know.” I leaned forward, desperate to bridge the chasm I’d created, and not sure I could. “I was an idiot, letting my fears override everything. I should have trusted you from the start. Please, Bella... I know things are messed up, beyond messed up, but will you give me—no, us—another chance? Let me prove I can be the man you deserve.”
Her gaze softened, the blue of her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, but there was a firmness in them that stopped my heart cold, a resolve forged from too much pain. She shook her head slowly, the motion like a blade twisting in my gut.
“Cade, I can’t,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite the pain etching deeper lines around her mouth. “This... it’s toomuch. And it doesn’t fix the trust you shattered. I need time, real time, to process, to heal. I need to protect myself from getting hurt like that again. I’m sorry.”
The words hit like a punch, stealing my breath, leaving me hollowed out. Every instinct screamed to argue, to beg her to stay, to lay out every reason why we belonged together. I thought about the peace I found in her arms, the future I’d envisioned with her by my side, and how much I wanted it all back. But the look in her eyes told me that no amount of begging would change a damn thing.
Not today.
She stood, her movements graceful but final, each step toward the door echoing like a nail in the coffin of what we’d had. The door clicked shut behind her, and I was left alone in the sterile silence of my office, staring at the notepad, the wreckage of David’s betrayal paling against the fresh agony of losing her all over again.
Shit.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
BELLA
ONE WEEK LATER
“I still think you made the right call,” Kyra said, her voice cutting through the low hum of the bar. A week had passed since I walked away from Cade, but his face clung to me like a shadow. My heart twisted at the memory, a dull ache that hadn’t faded. Still, Kyra was right. Turning down his plea for another chance, shielding myself from the chaos of his world, had been my only way forward after David’s betrayal had shattered everything.
Kyra nudged my empty glass, her brow arched. “Another pinot?”
I shook my head, forcing a small smile. “I shouldn’t. I need to—” My words died as my eyes caught the flicker of the TV mounted at the far end of the bar. “Wait.”
“What?” Kyra swiveled, following my gaze. “Oh my God.”
The local news was live, a reporter standing in front of the unmistakable arches of the Palm Beach Promenade’s main entrance, her voice crisp and enthusiastic as she gestured toward the gleaming structure behind her. The camera panned over the crowds milling about, the luxury storefronts sparkling under the Florida sun, and the waterfront marina where yachts bobbed like jewels on display. My stomach twisted as I stared at the screen, the familiar sight hitting me harder than I expected. I glanced at my phone, the date glaring back at me like anaccusation: opening day. Cade’s day. The one he’d poured his soul into, fighting through delays, betrayals, and God knows what else to bring it to life. And here I was in a dimly lit bar, pretending I didn’t care.
The Promenade was his triumph, a testament to his ambition and grit, rising from the ashes of my father’s unfinished dreams. Dad had bought that land years ago, envisioning something grand that transformed the land into a mixed-use haven that would breathe new life into the area. But life had unraveled for him, and the property slipped away, ending up in Cade’s hands. I’d never dreamed of standing there with him, not really; my involvement had been reluctant at best, forced by the city commission’s insistence that I attend as a nod to Dad’s legacy. A symbolic gesture, nothing more.
My breath hitched as the broadcast cut to earlier footage, the screen filling with a sprawling news conference. There he was, Cade at the podium, scissors in hand for the ceremonial cut, his broad shoulders squared under his tailored suit. The crowd around him was a blur of suits and smiles, but his expression was strained, with shadows lingering under his eyes despite the bright lights.
A wave of regret crashed over me, hot and unrelenting. I’d turned down his plea for another chance, convinced it was the only way to shield my heart from more pain. David’s betrayal had shattered the fragile trust we’d rebuilt, and I couldn’t risk it again. But as the camera zoomed in on Cade’s face, catching the flicker of loneliness in his eyes, my resolve cracked.What if I’m wrong?What if walking away meant losing the one person who made me feel truly seen, truly alive? My fingers tightened around my phone, the screen’s glow reflecting the turmoil swirling inside me. Love. Fear. Longing.
I turned to Kyra, my voice trembling with uncertainty and barely audible over the bar’s chatter—the clink of glasses, themurmur of conversations blending into a hazy din that mirrored the chaos in my mind. “Should I go?”
She didn’t hesitate, her eyes fierce and unwavering as she waved me off like she was shooing away doubt itself, her manicured fingers slicing through the air with determined urgency. “Go,” she said instantly, her tone laced with that unshakable loyalty that had carried me through darker days, the kind of fierce protectiveness that had seen me through late-night breakdowns and endless worries. “You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t.”
