Chapter 42 His Unspoken Truth: The Lie He Chose
Cade
My phone was sitting on the coffee table in front of me. There were more missed calls and texts from Sloane than I could count over the last two days. I couldn't look at it anymore.
I felt terrible for not responding. I knew she was hurting. I knew she was confused. But I also knew that if I picked up that phone, I would have to tell her it was over.
I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes. The weight of the decision was crushing me.
I was furious with my father. But I also knew him. If he said he would bring the Hartford business to the ground, he would do it. He had the money, the lawyers, and the lack of a conscience to make it happen.
I couldn't let him do that to her. Everything her grandmother had built, it would all be gone because of me.
A loud, sharp knock on the door made my heart jump into my throat. I froze. But I knew exactly who it was. I didn't even have to look through the peephole.
"Cade?" Her voice came through the wood of the door. She sounded small, but determined. "Cade, I know you’re in there. I saw your car in the driveway. Please, just open the door."
I sat there for a few seconds, debating whether to stay silent and pretend I was asleep. But I couldn't do that to her. Not after the way she’d been treated at the restaurant.
I stood up, my legs feeling heavy, and walked to the door. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking hands, and pulled it open.
Sloane was standing there, and the sight of her nearly broke me. Her hair was a little messy, and her eyes were red-rimmed, like she hadn't slept either. She didn't wait for an invite; she walked right past me into the living room.
"What’s wrong, Cade?" she asked, turning to face me. "I’ve been worried sick. I thought something happened to you. Why haven't you picked up any of my calls? Why haven't you texted me back?"
I closed the door slowly, keeping my back to her for a moment so she wouldn't see the guilt on my face.
"I'm sorry," I said, my voice sounding rough. "I didn't mean to make you worry."
"Then what’s happening?" she pressed. She stepped closer to me. "How did it go with your dad? What did he say after I left? "
I looked at her, and for a second. I almost told her about the threat, the business, and the trap my father had set.
But then I saw the light in her eyes, the hope that we could fix this. If I told her the truth, she would stay and fight. And if she stayed and fought, she would lose everything.
I realized this was the defining moment. I could choose Sloane and risk her whole future, or I could choose to be the person she hated so she could keep her life. I did the thing I knew I would regret for the rest of my life .
"He reminded me of some things, Sloane," I said. I tried to make my voice sound cold, like my father’s. I tried to pull that mask of a heartless businessman over my face. "He reminded me that you're not right for me."
Sloane froze. The worry in her eyes turned into confusion. "What? What do you mean by that ? "
I looked away from her, focusing on a spot on the wall. I had to make this hurt. If it didn't hurt, she wouldn't leave.
"It means exactly what it sounds like. We’ve been living in a fantasy for the last few weeks, but the reality is different. You’re not someone who is enough for my future, Sloane. I have ambitions. I have a legacy to run. I need someone who is more suited for that world."
I felt like I was swallowing glass as I said the words.
"My father made me see that," I added, forcing a shrug. "He reminded me of who I am and what I need to achieve. And honestly? You don't fit into that plan."
Sloane stood there, completely dumbstruck. I could see the disappointment and the anger washing over her face in waves. She looked like I had slapped her.
"You're serious?" she whispered. Her voice was trembling now. "After everything we talked about? You’re standing there telling me I’m not suited for your ambitions?"
She started to cry, the tears finally spilling over and tracking down her cheeks. She looked so betrayed that I instinctively reached out to her. I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her that I loved her more than anything.
"Sloane, I.."
"Don't!" she screamed, flinching away from my hand. "Don't you dare touch me, Cade. Get away from me."
I pulled my hand back, feeling the sting of her rejection.
"I cannot believe this," she said, shaking her head as she backed toward the door. "After everything we’ve been through, this is how you decide to treat me? You’re just like him. You’re just as cold and just as selfish as your father. I was worried about you, and all you were doing was deciding I wasn't good enough for you"
"Sloane, wait"
"No!" she snapped. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, her face hardening into a mask of pure anger. "I'm done waiting for you, Cade. Stay in your perfect little billionaire world. I hope your ambitions keep you warm at night."
She turned and walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her so hard the pictures on my walls rattled.
"Sloane!" I called out, taking a step toward the door, but I stopped. My hand hovered over the doorknob, but I didn't turn it. I couldn't.
I was alone. The silence of the apartment came rushing back, heavier than before. I realized the gravity of what I had just done. I had just destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me. I had lied to her face and made her hate me just to keep her safe.
A raw, jagged sob built up in my throat. I grabbed a glass vase from the entry table, and threw it at the wall with every bit of strength I had. It shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, the sound of breaking glass echoing through the empty rooms.
I collapsed against the door, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor with my head in my hands. I wasn't even angry at Sloane for what she said. I wasn't even angry at my father anymore.
I was angry at myself. I was a billionaire’s son with all the power in the world, and yet I was a prisoner. I couldn't break away from my father’s shadow and give Sloane the life I had promised her. At least, not yet.
I sat there on the cold floor, surrounded by broken glass, listening to the sound of her car driving away.