Page 70 of Deceit & Desire

Michael nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor. “When I was seventeen, my dad… he killed himself. With a bottle of prescription pills. And Missy—she hated him for it. She thought he was selfish for leaving us, for leaving her. She swore she’d never do the same. I knew she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t do that to me, to herself. I was so sure because… because I couldn’t lose her the same way.”

The confession hung in the air, and for the first time, I saw Michael not as the man who’d screamed accusations at me for years, but as someone who’d been broken long before I’d ever come into the picture. It didn’t erase what he’d done, but it added a new layer to the tragedy we’d all been pulled into.

The pieces clicked into place in my mind. Their family had lied to the town for years, saying he passed away suddenly in his sleep, of natural causes. Now, knowing the truth, his fixation on Missy’s death made so much more sense.

“And Cody used that against you,” I said, my voice softer but still edged with anger. “He fed your pain and made you believe the worst of me.”

Michael nodded again, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of his past and his mistakes was finally too much to carry.

“I see it now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. But I swear to you, Zoe, I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

Roman stepped forward, his presence a wall of solid strength. “Words are cheap, Carter. What’s your plan?”

Michael’s head lifted, and for the first time since he arrived at the hospital, I saw steel in his expression.

“I’ll tell everyone the truth,” he said, his voice steady despite the emotion behind it. “Every lie, every accusation—I’ll undo them all. You have my word.”

The fight in me didn’t die down, but something in my chest softened. I studied him for a long moment, searching for the deception I’d come to expect from him.

“It’s not just about undoing lies, Michael,” I said finally, my voice quieter but still firm. “It’s about making sure no one else suffers because of you.”

“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’ll make sure of it. I swear.”

For a long moment, I said nothing. Roman’s hand brushed the back of my neck, grounding me as I tried to process everything. Finally, I nodded, though my gaze stayed sharp.

“Then we’ll see, Michael. You’ve got a lot to prove.”

He exhaled shakily, and a single tear slid down his cheek. “Thank you, Zoe. For giving me the chance to try.”

Michael lingered for a moment, his shoulders still slumped, his expression worn and hollow. I wasn’t sure what he was waiting for—a nod, a word, something to tell him he could leave with some semblance of dignity. I wasn’t ready to give him that. Not yet.

Finally, Roman shifted beside me, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. “You should go, Carter.”

Michael flinched at the cold finality in Roman’s tone, but nodded. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something more, but whatever it was died before it could find its way out. His eyes flicked to me one last time, and for a split second, I saw something there that might have been hope.

He turned and left without another word, the soft click of the door closing behind him sounding louder than it should have. The weight in the room didn’t lift with his absence—it lingered, heavy and suffocating, pressing against my chest until I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Roman stayed silent for a long moment, his steady presence beside me grounding me as my thoughts spiraled. Finally, he broke the quiet.

“Do you think you can forgive him?” he asked, his voice low and even, but there was an edge to it, something sharp and protective that told me he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

I let out a shaky breath and leaned back against the pillows, my fingers still curled around the rough hospital blanket.

“If I forgive him,” I said slowly, carefully, “and I think I just might, it’ll be for me and my own peace of mind… not because I think he deserves it.”

Roman’s brows furrowed, and he studied me for a moment, his eyes searching mine like he was trying to find some trace of doubt or hesitation.

“You’d be doing it for you,” he murmured.

I nodded, my throat tightening as I swallowed hard. “I can’t carry this anger anymore, Roman. It’s too heavy. I’ve been carrying it for so long, and it hasn’t done anything but hurt me. I don’t know if I can ever really forget what he did… but forgiving him? That’s not for him. That’s for me.”

Roman’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, staring at the closed door Michael had just walked through.

“I get it,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I don’t like it either,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “But I don’t want to live the rest of my life letting what he did define me. I won’t let him have that kind of power over me anymore.”

Roman’s gaze snapped back to me, and the tension in his expression softened just a little. He reached out, his hand brushing mine where it rested on the blanket.

---