Page 102 of The Hotel Room

Noah’s eyes narrowed, his voice sharp. “You don’t think it had anything to do with her? You hurt her. You broke her heart. How can you sit there and say it wasn’t about her?”

James flinched, the accusation hitting him hard.

“It did hurt her,” he admitted. “And that’s something I’ll regret for the rest of my life. But it wasn’t because of anything she did. It wasn’t because of anything she lacked. It was because I was too much of a coward to face my own insecurities, and I let that cowardice ruin everything.”

Noah stared at him, his expression hard, but James could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” James said, his voice raw. “I know you can’t. I don’t deserve it. But I need you to know that I’m trying to fix this. I’m trying to be better—for your mom, for you and Lily, for myself. Because you’re right—I haven’t been the man I should have been. But I’m working on it. And I’ll keep working on it every single day.”

Noah’s gaze dropped, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“I thought you and Mom were unbreakable,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought...I thought you were different. That you’d always be together, no matter what.”

James swallowed hard, his throat tightening. “I want us to be together, Noah. And I’m going to fight every day for that. But it’s not going to be easy. It’s going to take time, and it’s going to take effort. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to your mom that I’m worth a second chance.”

Noah looked up at him, his eyes searching.

“Do you think she’ll forgive you?” he asked softly.

James exhaled, the question slicing through him.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But whether she forgives me or not, I’ll never stop trying to make things right.”

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt less suffocating.

Noah shifted in his seat, his expression still guarded but less rigid. “I need time,” he said finally. “To process all this. To figure out how I feel.”

James nodded, his chest aching with a mix of relief and regret. “Take all the time you need. I’m here when you’re ready.”

Noah stood, his movements slower, more deliberate. He glanced at James one last time before heading toward the stairs.

As James watched him go, he felt the weight of everything he’d lost—and everything he was still fighting for—settle heavily on his shoulders.

He sat back on the couch, the house silent once again, and closed his eyes.

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James sat at the kitchen table, the house wrapped in the kind of quiet that only came late at night. The soft hum of the refrigerator was the only sound, a constant low murmur in the background as he stared at the blank page in the journal before him.

His pen hovered above it, his fingers twitching with hesitation. The words never came easily.

But Dr. Adler’s voice echoed in his head:Write without censoring yourself. No one else is going to see this. Be honest.

He exhaled slowly, pressed the pen to the paper, and began.

I don’t know how to start this. I never do.

I’ve been thinking about Noah all night.

He idolized me once. I was his hero when he was little. The dad who could fix anything, who always knew what to say. And now, he sees me for what I really am—a man who broke his family because he was too weak, too selfish to handle his own fears. A man who hurt his mother.

James paused, the pen shaking slightly in his grip. He swallowed hard and forced himself to keep writing.

I hate myself.

There’s no point in sugarcoating it. Every time I think about what I did, I feel like I’m suffocating. I picture Kate’s face—her tears, the way her voice broke when she told me she didn’t know how to trust me anymore. And Noah...the way he looked at me tonight, like I was nothing. Like I wasn’t the man he thought I was.

He’s right to feel that way. I deserve it. I deserve all of it.

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