Page 47 of The Hotel Room

His pulse kicked harder, defensive words rising—but this time, he forced them down.

“No,” he said, voice quieter now but still firm. “I don’t want to control her, Leah. I—” He hesitated, but there was no way around it now. “I put the house in her name. Completely. It’s hers now. No strings.”

The words hung there, and for the first time since she’d stormed in, Leah blinked.

“What?”

James exhaled, the tightness in his chest easing just slightly.

“I signed the deed over. She owns it outright. I didn’t tell her to stay. I didn’t use it as a bargaining chip. She doesn’t owe me anything.”

Silence stretched between them, the anger on Leah’s face softening into something more cautious.

Her arms slowly lowered.

“And why...why did you do that?”

James swallowed, glancing away for a beat before forcing himself to meet her gaze.

“Because it was nevermyhouse. It was ours. And whether she forgives me or not, she deserves security. I wanted her to know I wasn’t going to hold that over her head. I...I needed to show her that.”

Leah studied him for a long moment, like she was trying to gauge if this was just another performance.

Finally, her posture eased—but the tension didn’t fully leave her face.

“Okay,” she said slowly, voice calmer but still laced with skepticism. “That’s...a step. But signing a house over doesn’t erase the fact that you broke her trust.”

James’s throat tightened, his hands pressing into the desk as he nodded stiffly. “I know.”

Leah’s voice softened—but it stayed steady.

“If you ever want to fix this, it’s not just about the house or money, James. It’s about giving her thespaceto find herself again—without you deciding what that looks like.”

He nodded slowly, the words sinking deeper than he wanted to admit.

Leah lingered a beat longer, as if deciding whether to say more.

Then she shook her head, turning toward the door.

“I’m watching you, James. Don’t screw this up.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Kate

Kate gripped the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl, her body convulsing as another wave of nausea hit. The harsh scent of bile lingered, stinging her throat, and her whole body trembled as she struggled to catch her breath between heaves.

Her stomach twisted again, and she barely had time to brace herself before another surge came, leaving her breathless and hollow.

Footsteps echoed down the hall—faint, hesitant at first—then faster, more urgent.

"Kate?"

James.

She squeezed her eyes shut, mortified, her face burning despite the cold sweat beading along her forehead. She didn't want him to see her like this. Not now.

But the door creaked open anyway, and a moment later, he was kneeling beside her, his hand gently sweeping her hair back from her damp face.