Rachel watched me over the rim of her glass, her expression growing more serious as I set down my fork. "There’s something else, Rachel," I began hesitantly, choosing my words carefully. "It was Alexander who made me realize Carter has been lying to me all along."
Her eyes widened, and she set her glass down abruptly. "Lying? What do you mean?"
I took a deep breath and lowered my gaze to my plate. "Carter’s in financial trouble. His business is on the verge of ruin, and he never told me. Alexander… made sure I understood that. In his own way."
Rachel’s fork hovered mid-air before she let it drop. "Financial trouble? Carter? Are you sure that’s… true? He always seems so secure, so put-together."
"That’s what I thought too," I said bitterly. "He spun me a world where everything was perfect. Made me believe we had a solid foundation, that he was always honest with me. And now I find out he’s been hiding all of this from me." I reached for my glass of rosé and took a long sip, the bitterness in my voice unmistakable.
Rachel leaned back, frowning. "I wouldn’t have expected that from Carter. He always seemed so… sincere. Did he explain why he didn’t tell you?"
I shook my head, the lump in my throat swelling. "He says he didn’t want to burden me. That he thought he could fix it all on his own. But that’s no excuse, Rachel. We’re partners—we’re supposed to face these things together. Instead, he treated me like a child, shielding me from the truth."
Rachel stirred her lemonade without taking a sip. "That doesn’t sound like the Carter I know. But… Alexander. Why did he tell you?"
I let out a sharp laugh. "He’s not selfless, Rachel. I’m not naïve enough to believe that. Alexander does nothing without a reason. He’s calculating, and I know damn well he wanted me to find out. Maybe to push me away from Carter. Maybe to drag me deeper into his grasp."
"But even if his motives weren’t pure, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s the truth."
"Do you think Carter genuinely meant well, or do you believe he deliberately... lied to you?"
"I don’t know anymore, Rachel. Maybe he really thought he was protecting me by keeping me in the dark. But that’s no excuse. We’re supposed to be partners. Shouldn’t we be able to rely on each other?"
Rachel nodded slowly.
"But that’s not all," I continued. "It’s not just this one lie. It’s... everything. I don’t even know if I truly love Carter. I think I’ve known for a while. Even before Russo entered my life, I was struggling with these thoughts."
Rachel took a sip of her lemonade, set the glass down, and leaned forward. "But why? You’ve always said he gives you stability."
I leaned back, letting my gaze drift across the terrace as Isearched for the right words. The warm hues of the walls and the murmur of other guests felt worlds away from the turmoil inside me.
"Because it’s not enough, Rachel. Because there’s no passion, no fire. It’s like something’s missing. And now that trust is gone too, I don’t see any reason to stay with him."
"And then what? Do you think Russo would be better?"
I let out a quiet laugh and shook my head. "Since he came into my life, I feel like I’ve lost all control. Over myself, over everything. Every part of him is intense. Every. Single. Thing."
Rachel arched her eyebrows. "Go on."
I took a deep breath, staring down at my salad as if the shredded greens could help me form a coherent thought. Then I looked up and met Rachel’s expectant—but wary—gaze. Her expression was open, but I knew she’d analyze every tremor in my voice, every hesitation.
"It’s... hard to describe," I began quietly. My fork absently dragged through the dressing without me even noticing. "He’s nothing like Carter. Not even close. Everything about him is... raw. Direct. Like there’s no filter between impulse and action."
Rachel’s eyebrow twitched, but she stayed silent. She knew there was more.
"The passion between us is overwhelming. He..." I swallowed. "He tears down every boundary I've ever had. Not with force. Not in the way you're thinking. It's like he sees me—truly sees me—and knows exactly where I'm strong, then pushes right there until I don't even remember who I was before he entered my life." I leaned back, feeling my pulse quicken. Just the memory made my skin prickle. "When he looks at me..." I searched for the words. "...I feel like I'm falling. But not because I'm weak. Because I know I'd give him everything willingly. My control. My rules. My whole damn world."
Rachel's expression barely shifted, but I recognized the mix ofconcern and growing incomprehension in her eyes.
"Fiona—"
"No." I raised my hand to keep speaking. "It's more than desire. More than sex. He... instinctively knows when I'm pretending and demands I be myself. Because I discover parts of me I've never allowed before. Because I realize I don't just want order. Don't just want safety. I want depth. Darkness. I want him."
Rachel stayed silent. Her fork lay motionless on her plate.
"What about Carter?" she finally asked, the words cautious.
Everything in me wanted to downplay it, qualify it. But why bother?
