Page 60 of The Edge Of Us

My throat tightened. I didn’t know what to say.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He offered a small smile. “You have no idea how much strength you wear, Corine. It’s not just the dress.”

I was still blushing when Natasha appeared again. Alone this time.

“Corine,” she said cautiously. “Do you have a minute?”

I turned, jaw tense. “What do you want?”

She glanced at Jasper, then back to me. “To apologize.”

“Now?” I scoffed. “After the venom you spat this morning?”

“I… I was defensive. I’m not proud of it.”

“You think that’s what I want? Pride?” I snapped. “You helped destroy my life, Natasha. You smiled in my home while sleeping with my husband. You don’t get to clear your conscience just because time passed.”

“I was stupid,” she said, voice breaking. “And lost. I thought Allen loved me.”

I stared at her, hollow. “He didn’t love any of us.”

A long pause. She looked like she wanted to cry.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I nodded slowly. “I believe that you’re sorry. But that doesn’t mean I forgive you. I survived you. That’s enough.”

And with that, I turned and walked away, toward the one person who hadn’t lied to me, who had shown up without expectation—Jasper.

Later that night, back in my penthouse, Astrid lay asleep against my shoulder, Kyle curled beside her.

My phone buzzed.

A message from a new number:

"This is Jasper. Brittany gave me your number. Just wanted to say thank you for today. You reminded me what grace looks like."

I stared at it for a long time before replying:

"Maybe someday, you can come meet the little ones who gave me that grace."

And maybe, just maybe, I was ready to begin again.

Chapter 35

Corine

The lights were soft, the windows tall and wide, letting in the golden wash of a late morning sun. The Vogue team had arrived almost an hour ago, settling in the corner of my penthouse living room with cameras, recorders, notepads, and lattes in hand. I was sitting across from the interviewer—Elena, sharp-eyed but gentle, dressed in understated luxury and a scent that reminded me of lavender and something faintly spicy.

"Corine," she said, voice warm but curious. "Thank you for letting us into your home. It's beautiful."

I gave a small smile, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Thank you. This place... it's my safe space now."

"And today," she continued, "you're sharing something deeply personal with our readers."

I took a slow breath. My palms were clammy. My heart raced—but I had promised myself I wouldn’t hide anymore. Not from the truth. Not from what happened.

---