Chapter 105 Baseball bat
Cassie
"Then I'll get unbound." Grey's voice was firm, determined. "I'll hire the best lawyers money can buy. I'll track her down and force her to sign divorce papers. Whatever it takes."
"How long will that take? Months? Years?" I shook my head. "I can't live in limbo, Grey. I won't be the other woman, even if she's the one who created the situation."
He moved closer, and I could see the desperation in his eyes. "You're not the other woman. You're the woman I love. The woman I've always loved since Isabella's birthday."
"Love isn't enough," I said, hating how the words tasted. "Love wasn't enough to overcome your mother's interference and our own inability to communicate. Now love isn't enough to overcome the fact that you're legally married to someone else."
"So what are you saying? That we give up? That we let Georgia win again?"
I set down my coffee cup with trembling hands. "I'm saying that maybe your mother was right about one thing. Maybe we're not meant to be together. Maybe the universe keeps throwing obstacles in our path because we're supposed to learn when to let go."
"I don't believe that." He reached for me, but I stepped away. "Cass, look at me. Really look at me. Do you see a man who's going to give up on us? Because I'm not. I will move heaven and earth to fix this mess."
"What if you can't? What if Vivian refuses to cooperate? What if she's remarried and has children and doesn't want her new life disrupted by ghosts from her past?"
He was quiet for a moment, and I could see him considering possibilities he hadn't wanted to face. "Then I'll find another way."
"There might not be another way, Grey. Sometimes life doesn't give us the endings we want, no matter how hard we fight for them."
"Is that what you want? An ending?" His voice was rough with emotion. "Because if that's what you're asking for, I need to hear you say it. I need you to look me in the eye and tell me you want me to walk away."
I opened my mouth to do exactly that, to give him the clean break that would save us both more heartache. The words wouldn't come. Despite everything—despite the lies and the manipulation and the impossible circumstances—I didn't want him to walk away. I wanted to fight for us, even if the odds were stacked against us.
"I can't," I whispered. "God help me, I can't O'Malley."
Relief flooded his features, and he moved toward me again. This time, I didn't step away. His hands cupped my face gently, his thumbs wiping away tears I hadn't realized were falling.
"Then we fight," he said simply. "Together. Whatever it takes, however long it takes. We fight for us."
"What if we're fighting for something impossible?"
"Then we'll be fighting together, and that has to count for something. Stop overthinking."
He kissed me then, soft and desperate and full of promises I wasn't sure he could keep. In that moment, with the morning sun streaming through my kitchen windows and his arms around me, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, love really could conquer all.
Even if it had to conquer the law to do it.
When we broke apart, I rested my forehead against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"My father's been texting me," I said quietly. "About the O'Malley situation. I think there's more to this corporate maneuvering than either of us realizes."
"Probably. Our families seem to excel at complicated schemes." His arms tightened around me. "But whatever they're planning, we face it together. No more running, no more letting other people make decisions for us."
"No more secrets?"
"No more secrets," he promised. "Starting with this: I called my lawyer at six this morning. He's already working on tracking down Vivian and starting the divorce proceedings. I'm going to find out exactly what my mother knew and when she knew it."
I pulled back to look at him. "What if this destroys your relationship with her permanently?"
"Good," he said without hesitation. "She's destroyed enough of my happiness over the years. I'm done letting her control my life."
We stood there in my kitchen, holding each other while the coffee grew cold and the sun climbed higher in the sky. Outside, Cape Town was waking up, going about its business, oblivious to the fact that two people were trying to figure out how to love each other despite impossible odds.
For the first time since Georgia's devastating revelation, I felt something that might have been hope stirring in my chest. We had a plan. We had each other. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.
The sound of my doorbell ringing broke the spell, sharp and insistent in the quiet morning air.
"Expecting someone?" Grey asked.
I shook my head, moving toward the front door with him close behind me. Through the peephole, I could see a man in an expensive suit holding a manila envelope—another messenger, another summons from forces beyond our control.
"Ms. Hunter?" the man called. "I have urgent documents for you from Hunter Maritime Holdings."
I looked at Grey, saw my own trepidation reflected in his eyes. Whatever came next, we'd face it together. I couldn't shake the feeling that our families weren't done with us yet, and that the real battle for our future was just beginning.
"Cassie, what's wrong?"