Chapter 7
766 Words
Selene
Present Day / Memory Interlude
“I didn’t touch her.”
He said it so plainly, like it hadn’t taken four years and a war of silence to get those words out.
And suddenly, I was back there.
Not to the night he ruined everything.
But the one before it.
Four years ago.
We were in his kitchen, barefoot, tangled up in each other and the smell of burnt pancakes. He couldn’t cook. God, he couldn’t cook—but he always tried. For me.
“You’ll learn to love crispy,” he said, holding up a blackened piece like it was a prize.
“I’ll learn to fake it,” I laughed, tossing a dish towel at him.
He caught me around the waist instead, pulling me close until my back met the edge of the counter. The smile in his eyes softened into something deeper. Something still sacred.
“You’re it for me, you know that?” he whispered, forehead pressed to mine.
I remember the way it made my chest ache, how fast my heart kicked. I hadn’t told him I loved him yet. Not out loud.
But I knew I did.
And in that moment, I believed he felt it too.
Back to Present
I blinked, and the conference room came back into focus—harsh, sterile, real.
Xander still sat across from me, waiting, watching. Vulnerable in a way I’d never seen him.
He said he hadn’t touched her.
But I had touched us. I had held it in my hands and trusted it would never slip.
And then it shattered.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I said softly, not looking at him.
“You don’t have to believe me yet,” he replied, voice steady. “But let me show you. Let me tell you everything I was too much of a coward to say back then.”
My chest felt tight.
Because part of me wanted to run.
And another part… wanted to listen.
Selene
I straightened my posture, blinking away the memory like it hadn’t just wrapped itself around my throat.
Keep control. Keep control. Keep control.
“Let’s get back on record,” I said, voice sharp, deliberate.
Xander didn’t flinch. He only nodded once, jaw tight. He knew what I was doing. Knew I needed the distance. But he let me have it.
“Fine,” he said. “Ask me anything.”
I clicked my pen.
“Your company’s rebound was fast. Almost suspiciously so. Less than six months after the scandal, Voss Enterprises landed a tech partnership with the London innovation firm, Drosen Tech. Rumor is, that deal didn’t come without strings. Care to comment?”
He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. “I did what I had to do to keep the company alive. That includes taking risks I normally wouldn’t have.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Including cutting ties with the board member who stood by you the most—James Allen?”
“James made choices I couldn’t defend anymore,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “Even if he once defended mine.”
I wrote that down.
But behind every answer, I could still feel it—his eyes tracing my face, lingering just a moment too long. Like he wasn’t just answering a reporter. Like he still saw me.
I hated that part of me noticed.
I forced the next question out.
“Is that what you do when things get difficult? Cut people out? Let them take the fall?”
His face hardened. “Is that what you think I did to you?”
“I think,” I said, keeping my voice even, “that you let me walk away with a version of the truth that hurt less for you.”
Silence.
Not the kind that echoed. The kind that settled like a storm just before it breaks.
“I thought you wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said,” he murmured. “So I chose silence.”
“Cowardice,” I corrected.
He nodded. “Yes.”
I didn’t expect that. No defense. No denial. Just quiet admission.
For a moment, the air between us wasn’t sharp anymore. It was heavy. Real.
I looked down at my notes, the words blurring slightly. Then back up at him.
“One more interview,” I said, standing. “Tomorrow. Final one.”
He stood too. “You always schedule three?”
“No,” I said, heading for the door. “Just with the ones who matter.”
- Writer
