AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Stop right there.
My inner voice gave me a shake before I continued down that road. Mustered what little energy it would have taken to roll my eyes.
I was missing the point. This wasn’t about Cassidy. Not really. This was about the women in the crowd. My gaze washed over their jubilant faces...and I saw every woman I’d wronged. The women I’d reduced to how they looked, and what they could do for me. Women I stringed along, knowing full well I had no intention of letting them close enough to affect me—but I knew just how to get what I wanted, then toss them aside.
To these women, Cassidy was their champion : she was them. Cassidy was pissed, they were pissed—and finally, a man would be held accountable for his bullshit.
I put aside my phone, ready to face the music. I’d been clinging to the fact that this whole thing was fabricated. That I hadn’t done anything wrong. But I had—and until I could own that fact, nothing else would matter.
Cassidy turned her back to the crowd, a devious smile on her face as she advanced toward me.
“You hear that, Jason?” she crooned. “That sound is vindication.”
I clenched my teeth, but refrained from backtracking. Held tight to my new approach. I said the last thing any of them expected, and I meant it.
“You’re right.”
Cassidy did a double take, her bright eyes darkening suspiciously. “What?”
I raked my hand through my hair and hung my head, preparing for a different kind of raking. I was about to save her the trouble of raking me over the coals.
“I said, you’re right, Cassidy.”
She was on the stage, close enough that she could sit right where they wanted. Far enough away that security could grab her if she decided to pounce on me, to take a swing and turn this into a different kind of show—and close enough that every glare she threw my way would draw blood.
She didn’t sit, hell, she’d even stopped advancing, like she was mentally digesting the person in front of her. It was clear she was geared up for a fight, but I held out my hands in surrender.
“The things that happened between us...” I felt every single dot of the ellipses, emotion brewing in my throat. I wouldn’t bring up the child we lost. Not here. Not out loud. But from her widened gaze, I didn’t need to. I didn’t read too much into the glassy sheen that washed away her anger, because the truth was, I didn’t know her anymore, or what she was capable of...but she didn’t know me either.
I collected myself and sat up taller and pressed on. “I am so sorry that I wasn’t there for you. That I walked away. That I didn’t try harder. I was-”
“An asshole?” someone piped from the audience.
Cassidy’s face was unreadable but she didn’t agree with the outburst, so that was something.
It was on me to do what I never did. To show Cassidy and whoever else cared to look beyond that we weren’t all hopeless, irredeemable jerks.
“I am truly sorry, Cassidy.”
Her chin was shaking like a leaf in the wind and the sheen had officially become a river of tears that raced down her cheeks. A river that may or may not have been snaking down my own cheek.
The crowd was murmuring, looking around in confusion. Cassidy had gone quieter than a library during finals, except for the sniffling.
She took a step toward me and a collective gasp came from the crowd. They were holding their breath. Any moment someone would tell her to slug me. For all that I’d done, all that I didn’t do, I probably deserved it.
Moving forward didn’t mean convincing everyone that what I’d done and what I may have been capable of wasn't that bad. Or 100% true. It was sitting on this stage, and owning my shit—then getting on with my life. Showing the woman that I wish I had beside me that I was more. Because at the end of the day, what came next was what mattered most.
Cassidy licked her lips, her eyes tearing into me. “The show is cancelled.”
I blinked, frowning because I was sure my ears were playing tricks on me. It sounded kinda like Cassidy had just canceled this exclusive roundtable between the billionaire and his fake fiancé.
She didn’t smile or give me any indication that we were cool. Let’s be real: there was too much history, too much bad blood for us to ever get there, but I did get a nod before she wheeled around and shouted into her mic. “I lied about it all, okay! The show is cancelled!”
Well, then.
Her adoring fans turned on her like a dog whose owner had unwisely reached for their food. The roars and boos and hisses were directed at her as she fled from the stage, tearing off her mic, studio people trailing behind, trying to talk sense into her. I followed her route to the door and almost gasped myself when I saw a familiar face.
The only face I wanted to see.
