Page 128 of The Hotel Room

Her fingers brushed against his face, soft and reverent. “I love you,” she murmured, her voice trembling.

It was too much.

The combination of her touch, her words, the overwhelming relief of her forgiveness—it unraveled him. His control, carefully held together for so long, broke apart in an instant. A low, guttural sound escaped him, and before he could stop himself, he surged upward, his body giving in to the overwhelming wave of pleasure and emotion.

He groaned her name, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as his body tightened against hers. The release came in an overwhelming rush, raw and unrestrained, his entire beingpouring into her as if trying to prove—without words—that she was everything to him.

For a moment, the world went silent, nothing existing but the feeling of her against him, around him. It was different from anything he’d ever experienced before—deeper, richer, and full of something he couldn’t name but felt in every cell of his body.

As the aftershocks rippled through him, he pulled her close, his arms wrapping tightly around her as if he were afraid she might disappear. “Kate,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Shh,” she murmured, her hand smoothing over his hair. Her voice was soft, calm, and steady. “It’s okay.”

Her reassurance eased the knot of panic in his chest, though he still felt tears sting his eyes. “I love you,” he said again, needing her to feel the truth of it, needing her to know it wasn’t just words—it was his entire soul laid bare.

Kate cupped his face, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. Her eyes were warm, her lips curving into a soft smile that made his heart ache. “I know,” she said simply.

She rested her forehead against his, her fingers tracing gentle patterns along his jaw. And for the first time in what felt like forever, James allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Kate

The warm hum of the restaurant surrounded them, low conversations blending with the occasional clink of silverware. Kate sat across from Nick at the corner table James had insisted on reserving, wanting something quieter and more private. The intimacy of the setting made her hyper-aware of James’s presence beside her—the subtle brush of his knee against hers under the table, the way his hand rested on the back of her chair whenever he wasn’t reaching for his water glass.

Nick leaned back in his chair, studying the menu with the same exaggerated seriousness that he probably applied to every task. “I’ve got to say,” he drawled, his tone teasing, “pregnancy looks good on you, Kate. Glowing and everything.”

Kate rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “Don’t start, Nick.”

“Seriously,” he continued, setting the menu down and leaning forward with a grin. “Remember when you were pregnant with Noah? You were waddling around that party in your wedding dress, acting like it wasn’t weird at all.”

Kate laughed, her hand instinctively going to her belly. The memory hit her with a rush of nostalgia. She had been sevenmonths pregnant with Noah, and James’s company had hosted a casual family event. She hadn’t wanted to buy a maternity dress for one night, so she’d slipped into her wedding gown—it had been just loose enough to fit her growing bump.

“You were so smug about it too,” Nick added with a chuckle. “Kept saying you were a ‘bride forever.’”

James smiled warmly beside her, his gaze fixed on her as if seeing her in that dress all over again. “You were beautiful,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the lighthearted tone of the conversation.

Kate glanced at him, her chest tightening at the quiet sincerity in his words.

“And you,” Nick pointed his fork at James, breaking the moment, “were an absolute mess. I distinctly remember you asking me, like, fifty times if the parking lot was too icy for Kate to walk across.”

James chuckled, shaking his head. “I just didn’t want her to slip.”

Kate’s heart softened as she looked at James. He was focused on his plate now, absently cutting into his steak, but the faint pink in his cheeks gave him away. He’d always been like that—quietly protective, caring in a way that made her feel treasured.

“Some things never change,” Nick said, winking at her. “He’s still hovering, isn’t he?”

Kate smiled, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through her. “He is,” she admitted, her tone gentler than she’d intended.

James glanced at her, catching the look in her eyes, and for a moment, the restaurant and Nick’s teasing faded away. There was only the quiet understanding between them, the shared history.

Nick leaned forward. “You know, Kate, I think James might actually be the stupidest man alive.”

Kate was caught off guard by Nick’s light tone. Was he really going there? She glanced at him, half-expecting him to backtrack, but his expression stayed perfectly serious.

“I mean it. The man hit the jackpot with you and he still managed to screw it up.”

Kate looked at James, whose jaw tightened as his gaze dropped to the table. His hands, resting on either side of his water glass, flexed briefly before stilling, a telltale sign of the guilt he carried. The shadows in his eyes deepened, and she could see the weight of her pain reflected there, the way it haunted him.

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