Page 47 of The Valentine Agenda

He didn't just regret hurting her.

He loved her.

He loved her steady kindness, her quiet strength, the way she made every space warmer just by existing in it. He loved how she remembered everyone's stories, how she solved problems before people knew they needed solving, how she smiled with her whole being when she was truly happy.

As soon as he'd truly seen her, he'd loved her. How could he have done anything else?

And somehow, he'd shown her exactly the opposite—that his world, his image, his priorities would always come first.

His perfectly curated apartment felt like a museum now—beautiful, cold, and utterly lifeless. Everything in it was chosen to impress, to project success and sophistication.

Nothing in it was chosen with love.

Below, Hannah and Mrs. Peterson had reached the building's entrance. He watched them disappear inside, remembering how Hannah used to look at him like he was someone worth believingin. How she'd trusted him enough to try again after Nero's. How she'd kissed him in the lobby, tasting of ice cream and possibility.

His phone buzzed again. James ignored it.

Some things, he was finally learning, couldn't be fixed with money or influence or carefully worded apologies.

Some things, once broken, stayed broken.

And James Park, standing alone in his perfect apartment with his perfect view, had never felt more imperfect in his life.

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James stared at the quarterly projections without really seeing them. Even here, in his perfect corner office with its perfect view, all he could think about was Hannah.

"These numbers look solid." Trevor Martinez's voice cut through his thoughts. "Though I have some concerns about the timeline—" He broke off, frowning. "Park? Are you even listening?"

Right. They were supposed to be reviewing First National's involvement.

"Sorry." James ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "I'm a bit distracted."

"I noticed." Trevor's usual polished demeanor shifted slightly. "Everything okay?"

"No." The word escaped before James could stop it. He laughed, the sound hollow. "Actually, no. Nothing's okay. I lost her. The most incredible woman I've ever known, and I lost her because I was too blind to see what was right in front of me."

Trevor went very still. His hand tightened on his portfolio until his knuckles went white. "You can't be serious."

"I am." James stood, unable to contain the restless energy anymore. "I know I don't deserve another chance. Know I ruined everything. But I can't stop thinking about her. Even if she never—"

"Stay away from her." Trevor's voice was ice.

James turned, startled by the fury in the other man's tone. Trevor had risen too, his usual corporate calm completely gone.

"What?"

"I said stay away from her." Trevor's jaw clenched. "She's happy now. Finally happy. If you think I'm going to let you waltz back in and—"

"What are you talking about?" James frowned, completely lost.

"Vanessa." Trevor spat the name like a challenge. "If you think for one second that I'm going to let you—"

"Vanessa?" James actually laughed, the sound genuine this time. "God, no. I meant Hannah."

Trevor blinked. "Hannah?"

"The third-grade teacher from my building." James collapsed back into his chair, suddenly exhausted. "The woman who taught me what actually matters. Who makes every space warmer just by existing in it. Who remembers how everyone takes their tea and straightens paintings that don't need straightening and—" He broke off, running another agitated hand through his hair. "Not that any of that matters now."

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