Say the Word(133)

“There’s more?” Bash’s laugh was bitter.

“This was bigger than you and me. It wasn’t just about his dreams for Princeton or your career in politics.”

He stared at me in silence, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I saw something, the night of your eighteenth birthday party. You had a maid—”

“Greta,” Bash supplied, nodding. “I remember. But she never came back after that night. My mother said she fired her because she’d messed up one of the appetizer dishes.”

I shook my head. “She didn’t come back because I made her promise not to. I gave her all the money in my wallet and told her to get as far away from Jackson as she could.”

“Why?” Bash’s eyes moved restlessly over my face as his mind sorted through memories, trying desperately to piece together the details of that night.

Taking a deep breath, I forged on. “I went to say goodnight to Greta in the kitchen, but she wasn’t there. She was in the pantry.” I looked into his eyes and forced out the words. “With your father.”

Bash pressed his eyes closed — in expectation, in disbelief, in pain. I wasn’t sure.

“He was… he tried…” I flinched as the scene played out in my memories. “He was trying to rape her, Bash.”

His eyes opened and he looked at me, his expression tormented as his mind filled in the gaps. “And he couldn’t let that information get out. Not when it might tarnish his perfect reputation as a southern gentleman.” Bash laughed, the sound empty and cold in the air around us. “He had to get rid of you somehow, and make sure you wouldn’t talk.”

Both of us turned our eyes to the NDA on the table.

“I’m sure he saw it as killing two birds with one stone,” I whispered. “I was out of his life, but I was also out of yours. A win-win.”

“Ever practical, my father.” His voice was more bitter than I’d ever heard it.

Bash stared down at the contract for a long time, the minutes ticking by in silence. It had taken me years to fully process what had happened — god only knew how long it might take Bash to come to terms with this. I didn’t speak, knowing that this was something he needed to work through on his own. I simply sat next to him, my hand clutched tightly in his, offering wordless support.

Finally, after a small eternity of waiting, Bash removed his hand from mine, reached out, and lifted the NDA from its spot on the table. His eyes swept the front page one last time before his hands tugged abruptly, tearing the contract straight down the middle and letting it fall to pieces on the glass tabletop. His fingers tore at the paper until all that remained was a small pile of white scraps, littering the floor around us like confetti.

When he was done, he turned his eyes to meet mine. “Now, you’re free. We’re free.”

He wrapped his arms around me in a crushing embrace.

“My parents…” I trailed off, my mind racing with worries about their house.

“If my father makes one f*cking move to evict them, I’ll make a personal trip to The New York Times office, offering the exposé of a lifetime. He won’t do a damn thing to threaten his reputation.” Bash’s eyes were intense. “And if he does, I’ll buy your parents a new house.”

I felt my eyes well with tears and I tucked my face into the crook of his neck. “I should’ve told you sooner, but I was afraid for my family… and I wasn’t sure how you’d react,” I admitted. “I thought you might hate me for keeping it from you or for the choice I made back then.”

“Hey. Look at me,” he ordered, pulling my face out from where I’d hidden it. “There was no choice. Your family was at stake, and you did the only thing you could to protect them. None of this is your fault.” His eyes went unfocused and anger flickered across his face. “My father’s, certainly. And mine, for being an idiot for so many years. But not yours. Never yours.”

“All those years apart… All the plans we made… ” I drifted off, my tone filled with grief as I pictured the life we should’ve had. Seven birthdays and seven Christmas mornings. College years spent huddled close over textbooks. A crappy apartment we could call our own. Travel to all the far-flung places we’d always wanted to go together. “So much wasted time.”

With a gentle hand beneath my chin, Bash tilted my face up.

“It doesn’t matter.” He smiled at me for the first time since I’d handed him the red envelope from Jamie. “All that matters is we found each other again. We have a whole lifetime to make up for the years we lost.”

“Who says I want a lifetime with you, huh?” I teased, trying my best to contain the happy tears threatening to leak from my eyes.

Bash laughed. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter, Freckles. Because I’m never letting you walk away again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he whispered as his lips descended on mine, sealing his vow with a kiss.





Chapter Thirty-Five





Now


Bash helped me from the dark sedan, his body shielding mine from the sudden onslaught of camera flashes and yelling paparazzi at the curb. I forced my face into a smooth expression, tried my damnedest not to trip on the sweeping train of my dress, and focused on the feeling of Sebastian’s hand gripping mine as he led me through the gauntlet of media who’d camped out around the blue carpet leading into Harding Tower. Ignoring calls from the photographers — Mr. Covington! Sebastian! Over here! Who’s your date? This way, sweetheart! How ‘bout a smile? — my gaze flickered up to see that the looming skyscraper was illuminated by dozens of blue and pink spotlights — Luster colors — in honor of the gala inside.