Chapter 87 Cassie
Cassie
"Seeing Dante and Ella with their daughter," I said slowly, working through thoughts I'd been avoiding, "it made me realize something. They got their happy ending. Despite everything they did, despite the people they hurt, they ended up together with a beautiful family. And part of me is angry about that—angry that betrayal led to happiness for them while loyalty and commitment left me alone and grieving."
"But?"
"But another part of me is grateful. Grateful that I didn't waste years trying to make something work with someone who was fundamentally wrong for me. Grateful that their betrayal set me free to find something better." I met her eyes. "Even if that something better ended up breaking my heart too."
Meagan reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "Love is a risk, Cass. It always has been, always will be. The question isn't whether you'll get hurt—you probably will, eventually. The question is whether the possibility of joy is worth the certainty of vulnerability."
"When did you become so wise?"
"I've always been wise. You've just been too stubborn to listen." She grinned, and some of the heaviness in my chest lifted. "But seriously, I think you know what you want to do. You're just afraid to admit it to yourself."
Did I know what I wanted? Looking at Meagan's expectant face, I realized that maybe I did. Maybe underneath all the hurt and anger and self-protection, there was still a part of me that wanted to believe in second chances. A part that wanted to believe that people could change, that love could survive even devastating mistakes.
"He tracked me," I said suddenly. "Grey. He put an AirTag on my keys and has been monitoring my location."
Meagan's eyebrows shot up. "That's... creepy."
"It is. It's a complete violation of my privacy. But also..." I struggled to find words for the complicated emotions the revelation had stirred up. "Also, it means he's been thinking about me. Worrying about me. He's been sitting alone in our old apartment, watching that little blue dot on his phone, making sure I'm safe."
"Stockholm syndrome is a real thing, you know."
I laughed despite myself. "It's not Stockholm syndrome. It's... complicated. The tracking thing is wrong, but the motivation behind it... I understand it. When you love someone, you want to know they're okay. You want some connection, even if it's just digital breadcrumbs."
"So what are you going to do?"
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed with a text from Daisy: "FYI - your husband called asking about your schedule today. I told him you'd be late. Hope that was okay?"
I stared at the message, my heart starting to race. Grey had called my office. He was planning something. Another grand gesture, probably, another poorly thought-out attempt to prove his devotion.
"What is it?" Meagan asked, noticing my expression.
"I think I'm about to find out if I'm making decisions based on fear or wisdom," I said, showing her the text.
She read it and grinned. "Well, this should be interesting. Want me to come with you for moral support? Or to help hide the body if he's completely lost his mind?"
"I think this is something I need to face alone."
As we gathered our things and headed back toward the elevators, Meagan caught my arm.
"Cass? For what it's worth, I think you already know what you want to do. You're just afraid to trust yourself. But you've got good instincts when it comes to people. You knew Dante was wrong for you long before you caught him with Ella. And you knew Grey was different from the moment you met him."
"Different doesn't mean better. Different doesn't mean he won't hurt me again."
"No, it doesn't. But it also doesn't mean he will." She squeezed my arm gently. "Sometimes the biggest risk is not taking any risk at all."
As I drove home through the familiar streets of Sandton, Meagan's words echoed in my head. Sometimes the biggest risk is not taking any risk at all. Was I protecting myself by keeping Grey at a distance, or was I just ensuring that I'd spend the rest of my life wondering what might have been?
The truth was, I missed him. I missed his laugh, his terrible jokes, the way he made coffee too strong and always forgot to put the cap back on the toothpaste. I missed the way he looked at me like I was the most fascinating person in the world, the way he listened when I talked about work, the way he'd unconsciously reach for my hand when we walked together.
I missed being half of something whole.
But missing someone wasn't the same as trusting them. And love without trust was just a beautiful way to destroy yourself.
The elevator in my building seemed to climb more slowly than usual, each floor a marker counting down to whatever Grey had planned. By the time I reached my front door, my heart was hammering against my ribs and my hands were shaking as I fumbled with my key card.
Whatever was waiting for me on the other side of that door, whatever Grey had done or planned or prepared, I knew that how I responded would determine the rest of our story. Whether we found our way back to each other or finally closed the book on what we'd tried to build.
The key card beeped, the lock clicked, and I stepped forward into whatever came next