30

Cathy

I blink slowly, certain I must be seeing things. Because there’s no way Jonathan could actually be standing in my doorway looking like a complete mess. Not after everything that went down between us.

But those soulful eyes that have haunted me...there’s no mistaking them. It’s really him. Disheveled, wild-eyed, and looking far more desperate than I’ve ever witnessed.

“Jonathan?” The name falls from my lips in a fast whisper. “What are you...how did you...”

Questions flutter through my mind, but I can’t voice any of them. Not when he’s right here in front of me, close enough to touch if I reach out.

But now, with him standing just feet away, it’s like a dam has burst and every feeling I’ve repressed comes flooding back. The memories of his touch, his kiss, the way he possessed every part of me that I’ve tried so hard to reclaim.

I squeeze my eyes shut and suck in a shaky breath, praying I don’t fall apart.

But it’s too late.

I already am.

I react that fast. That totally to him.

When I open my eyes again, Jonathan is frozen in the doorway. I fully take in his appearance. His rumpled clothes like he’s been wearing them for days. Those reddened eyes rimmed with sleepless smudges. The faint tremor in his hands as he sways slightly, unraveled and utterly desolate.

Because of me. Because of what I did to us.

A sob nearly breaks free as I realize that, despite trying to shield him from the chaos of my life, he’s still been shattered. And it’s all my fault for letting him get so close, for giving in to my selfish craving.

I just wanted to know what it felt like. What it meant to be loved for me.

It’s all turned to ash now he knows who I really am.

Or maybe it turned to ash because he really knew nothing about me.

The one true thing I do know is that I’m the reason his world has cracked open, every facade crumbling to leave him bare and wounded in front of me. And now he’s here, devastated and no doubt seeking answers.

He should have known. I shouldn’t have lied to him.

Jonathan’s lips part with immense effort. “Cathy...talk to me. Please, baby...let me in.”

“I’m sorry,” I choke out, fingers clenched so tightly around the door that my knuckles have drained of color. “I’m so sorry I never told you the truth about who I really am.”

Jonathan shakes his head, taking a step closer. His eyes are oceans of sorrow and sincerity. “You have nothing to apologize for, Cathy. Nothing.”

He rakes a shaky hand back through his hair, making the curls stand out all over the place and lets out a trembling exhale. “I’m the one who should be begging your forgiveness. I...I never should have let you go like that, not without a fight to keep you.” A rueful grimace twists his mouth. “You deserve so much more than the way I’ve treated you.”

The self-recrimination in his tone makes my throat constrict painfully. “No, Jonathan...you don’t underst—”

“Please.” He cuts me off, holding up an entreating hand. “Please, can I...can I come inside? Just for a few minutes?”

My mouth works soundlessly as I meet the naked hope burning in his gaze. This man who has shattered himself into pieces for me, who has clearly been through his own personal hell because of the lies and deception surrounding my identity.

He deserves the truth, no matter how ugly. He deserves to hear it all from me and then make his own choice at the very least. I swallow my pride and take a step back from the door in silent invitation. Jonathan slips past the threshold, hovering awkwardly in the entryway as if unsure how close is safe to stand.

I clear my throat, buying time as I try to summon the right words and close the front door behind us. “I...I didn’t tell anyone I was Dominic Fowler’s daughter because—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

The simple statement cuts through my tension. I blink at him, certain I’ve misheard. But Jonathan’s expression is solemn, resolute. “It truly doesn’t matter to me who your father is or how much money your family has, Cathy. That’s not the woman I fell in love with.”

The breath stalls in my lungs. “That’s not right. That’s—”

“When we first met, you were just Cathy to me,” Jonathan continues in a low rasp. “A brilliant student I was lucky enough to have in my class. You captivated me from the first moment with your passion and your warmth and your wicked sense of humor.”

His lips quirk in the ghost of a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes —those soulful windows that seem to carry the weight of the world.


“Getting to know the real you, the incredible woman beneath the surface...it brought more light into my life than I’ve ever known. You made me feel alive in a way I didn’t think was possible.”

My throat works convulsively at the naked adoration blazing in his words. No one has ever looked at me that way before, like I’m something precious rather than an obligation to be endured. Like I’m more than just my family’s last name and all the complications that come with it.

I know what will eventually happen. What always happens.

I try to gather my scattered thoughts into some semblance of coherency. “Jonathan, I...you have to understand, money changes everything. It taints people’s motivations, makes them treat me differently when they know...”

I trail off, unable to fully articulate the bone-deep weariness brought on by a lifetime of being viewed as a status symbol. He can’t be an exception to that, can he? Not really. No one is that noble.

But the certainty burning in Jonathan’s eyes doesn’t waver as he takes another step closer. “Then they’re blind fools who never deserved the privilege of knowing you.”

I shiver despite the heated intensity of his stare pinning me in place.

“I’m not naive enough to think your family’s wealth won’t complicate things in ways I can’t imagine,” he continues, feather-light fingers brushing my cheek. “But I know deep in my soul that you’re so much more than just a last name or bank balance, baby. You’re everything that matters most in this world.”

His thumb grazes the curve of my lips, his touch sparking every nerve-ending into exquisite awakening. “And I’ll spend every day proving to you that my love has nothing to do with anything as fleeting and meaningless as money. Because you’ve already given me something far more precious—the chance to live and love with complete authenticity.” He plows his fingers through his hair again. “Which is why I have to tell you…God. I owe it to you to know about me. I owe it to you to know everything.”

I blink at him, thoroughly confused. “What do you mean you have to tell me something? What else could there possibly be?”

Jonathan’s expression twists, lips pressed into a tight line as if struggling to find the right words. When he finally speaks, the words tumble out in a gnarled rush. “There’s a reason I stole those university funds, Cathy. It wasn’t about greed or enriching myself, or using money your dad donated in good will to the university, I swear it.” Jonathan lets out a ragged sigh. He paces first one way, then back before he draws himself still and returns his gaze to mine. “Marty Sotheby, the dean...he’s been blackmailing me for years. The money was never for me.”

A creeping sense of dread slithers down my spine as my mind frantically tries to make sense of his words. But even as I open my mouth to demand clarification, Jonathan holds up a hand, effectively stalling me as his shoulders round in defeat.

“Let me just...get this out in full, please.” His voice is a low rasp of forced calm, fraught with the strain of revisiting whatever fresh hell Marty must have put him through. “You need to understand the whole truth, even if it means...”

He squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching hard enough that the tendons cord up in his neck. “Even if it means losing you at the end, I can’t allow you to walk away without letting you know everything first.”

Something vital twists inside me. He’s shredded. Broken. Despairing.

How has he hidden this part of him so well?

The same way I hid part of myself from him.

“I… okay.” What else can I say? The least I owe him is my attention.

He nods, swallows. Tries to speak but nothing comes out and he swallows again. Finally, he says, “When I was first hired as a professor at Midwestern, I was just some bright-eyed kid fresh out of grad school, you know? So eager to prove myself, to drink up all the knowledge and opportunities that came with tenure.” A rueful, haunted chuckle rasps passes his lips. “God, I was such a naive, arrogant little fool back then...” His gaze hooks mine. “When an old girlfriend from my hometown transferred in to finish her undergrad degree, I was convinced the universe was giving me some kind of sign. Despite growing up and growing apart over the years, I fell right back into those old thought patterns of adolescent lust and infatuation.”

I hold perfectly still, the raw anguish pouring off Jonathan in waves nearly stealing my ability to breathe. He glances up at me, gaze glassy and unfocused, memory obviously replaying in his mind’s eye.

“Emmerson and I hooked up a few times, just heated trysts fueled by nostalgia and misplaced affection. But by the end of the week, we both recognized it for what it was—a momentary relapse into the safety of the past rather than anything substantial. So we ended things mutually, going our separate ways with no hard feelings.”

His throat works convulsively, Adam’s apple bobbing with apparent difficulty. “Only, Marty had seen us together. And instead of dismissing it as the innocuous fling it was, he seized on it as leverage over me.”

Twisted self-loathing contorts his features into something haunted. “He threatened to destroy my career, reporting me for gross ethical misconduct and having me blacklisted so thoroughly I’d never work in academia again. Possibly even criminal charges for taking advantage of a student, even though she was twenty, weeks away from her twenty first birthday. I might have been twenty-five but I was still her professor. I’d still signed a legal document with my tenure that could send me to prison.”

My hand flies up to muffle the shocked gasp that escapes my lips, mind reeling from the gut-punch of his revelation.

“So for years, I’ve been his virtual slave,” Jonathan’s eyes bore into me with all the torment of a damned soul. “Siphoning money into his accounts, fudging paperwork and financial reports, even...even outright stealing funds whenever he demanded more bribe money.”

His voice cracks then, the naked agony fracturing what’s left of his steely composure. “I compromised every ethical standard and shred of integrity I possessed to survive. Just bowed my head and let him abuse me in the blackest ways imaginable because he knew how to exploit my worst fear—not only being cast out of my career, but ruining Emmerson’s life in the process because he said he would name her. I couldn’t take her down with me. I wouldn’t.” His mouth turns up in a sad smile that has no humor in it. “Not that I’ve in any way gone out of my way for this, but I’m sure you can see the similarities.”

What I see is the haunted shell he’s been reduced to by years of systematic humiliation. A husk of the honorable man I’ve fallen for. But just when I think the tidal wave of anguish can’t possibly rise any higher, Jonathan’s mouth presses into a grim line—a death knell that crumbles fragile hope.

“Should he find out about us…he’ll use you as leverage, too. He’ll destroy both our lives, just to line his pockets and maintain his hold over me. Only, just like Emmerson, it won’t be just me he has a hold over. It will be the both of us. He’s already demanded I ‘get to know you’ for more of your dad’s money.

“But you see, Cathy, I’m done being his puppet. I’m done capitulating to him. Done with the hold he has over me. And if that means going to prison or being stripped of my entire livelihood, then so be it.” He inhales a ragged, shuddering breath, gaze boring into me with searing intensity. “Because I refuse to let you get dragged through my mess too. Not when I can still stop it, not when…”

His anguish cleaves straight to my soul. “Jonathan.” My voice comes out a hoarse croak, scarcely more than an exhalation between us. He’s willing to sacrifice it all. His career, his future. His identity. Not for himself.

But for me. For Emmerson.

“I’ve come to tell you I love you. And the best thing I can do, is leave you. Don’t come back to the university. I’ll ensure you can transfer. It might mean a delay with the dissertation, but—”

“Jonathan.”

“I thought I’d come here and ask for your forever, but now I know that’s wrong. Your future is too bright. You’re too smart to be kept down and used and I won’t be that selfish—”

“Jonathan.”

That revelation detonates like a supernova inside me, searing away any doubt that what he’s telling me is the ultimate truth.

“And Chris, that scum. I’ll wear whatever he has on you too. I’ll do everything I can so you can be free. I’m going down for extorting the university, I’ll go down for that too. I’ll say I forced you. I’ll tell everyone I coerced you. I have a record of past transgressions; they’ll believe me—”

“Jonathan.”

He really can see past the money.

He sees me.

He sees me.

He sees ME.

In this moment, I know with crystalline certainty that no force in existence could make me turn away from him. This man is too beautiful. Too damn good, and I—can’t let him go.

I simply can’t.

So I won’t.

“You’ll do none of those things.” I step close enough that my breasts are crushed against his chest and put my hand over his lips. He stares down at me. I swim in twin pools of blue ocean. “Because I love you too much to let you destroy yourself.”