Page 46 of The Hotel Room

James Alexander Hayes

The letters felt heavy as he signed, ink bleeding a little too dark into the page. He pressed harder than necessary, like the force could make the action more real.

When he was done, he sat back, staring at his name. His signature. The finality of it.

The house was hers now.

It was a statement—not just a legal transfer, but a promise:I won’t control you. I won’t hold this over you. You deserve your independence.

And yet, as he folded the papers into the envelope, his chest ached with the hollow knowledge that even this—thishugegesture—might never be enough to undo the damage he’d caused.

He hadn’t just broken her trust.

He’d made her question herentire foundation.

And a few signatures on a deed couldn’t fix that.

But it was a start.

James sealed the envelope with a sharp press of his fingers, his pulse still loud in his ears.

He would give her the papers tonight. No explanations. No expectations.

Just proof that he was trying.

And hoping—desperately—that it wasn’t too late.

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The glass walls of James's office felt more transparent than usual. The open-concept design, once so sleek and modern, now felt like a fishbowl—too exposed, too vulnerable.

Leah sat across from him in one of the black leather chairs, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in that laser-focused way that always made James feel like a kid caught in a lie. She hadn’t even bothered with pleasantries when she arrived, just stormed in with the same hostility she’d had towards him ever since Kate left him.

Ever since he’d made the worst mistake of his life. Ever since he’d destroyed the woman he loved.

He deserved her hostility. He deserved her contempt.

“James, I need to talk. And you need to listen.”

James exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew what she saw when she looked at him. A weak, pathetic man who wasn’t good enough for her younger sister. “Leah—”

“What the hell are you doing, James?” She cut him off, eyes burning. “When I told Kate to go back home, I meant she should move back into her house and kick you out. Instead she’s living like a guest in her own life while you hold all the cards.”

His chest tightened. “That’s not what’s happening.”

Leah scoffed, voice dripping with disbelief. “It’sexactlywhat’s happening. You’re using money to control her, and you don’t even see it. You’re punishing her for standing up for herself, and it’s pathetic.”

James bristled, jaw clenching as heat surged beneath his collar. “That’s not fair. I’m supporting my family. I’vealwayssupported my family.”

She shook her head, disbelief flashing in her expression. “You think writing the checks makes you the hero? Kate has been raising your kids, holding your entire home together foryears. Shebuiltthat life with you—while you were working late, climbing the corporate ladder. Don’t you dare act like you’re the only one who sacrificed.”

James opened his mouth to argue, but the words stuck—because she wasn’twrong.

But she was wrong aboutonething.

“I’m not controlling her,” he bit out, voice tight. “You don’t know everything.”

Leah raised an eyebrow, arms still folded. “Really? Because from where I’m standing, you’re using money as leverage. You think she can’t leave because she has no financial independence. Youlikethat, don’t you? Knowing sheneedsyou.”

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