Page 33 of The Billionaire's Betrayal
The headache I used as an excuse to leave wasn’t entirely fake.Leila refused to let me go home alone—her determined expression left no room for argument.We walked in silence along the Champs-Élysées.The Christmas lights twinkled overhead, creating a magical atmosphere that cruelly contrasted with the emptiness inside me.Storefronts overflowed with festive decorations, a reminder that the holidays were coming.
A single tear betrayed me, rolling down my cheek.I let it fall, too drained to keep up my defenses.The December air froze it almost instantly.
"Fuck," Leila muttered when she saw my face."I’m going to kill him."
She pulled me into a tight hug, wrapping me in protective warmth.And there, in the middle of the sparkling Champs-Élysées, surrounded by joyful tourists and entwined lovers, I finally let my grief take over.Silent sobs wracked my body as Leila held me close, as if trying to keep me from completely falling apart.
20.Having a drink?
TRISTAN
Upon our return from New York, Lorenzo drove us to Audrey's place on Île Saint-Louis.The silence of the night enveloped the deserted quays.I got out after Audrey and accompanied her to the entrance.Her hand brushed against mine, and this fleeting contact sent a shiver up my arm.
"Would you like to come up for a drink?"she asked in a low, enchanting voice, her eyes locked with mine.
Her gaze left no doubt about the nature of her invitation.The dim light of the hallway cast shadows on her face, accentuating the curve of her parted lips.
To say I wasn't tempted would be a lie.This sensual woman had been haunting my dreams for days and awakened desires in me that I had tried to bury, to deny.In vain.Her gestures, her perfume, the way she nibbled her lip while waiting for my answer: everything about her attracted me irresistibly.
My entire body begged me to follow her.
But suddenly an image struck me: that of my mother, collapsed in our kitchen, the day she discovered my father was having an affair.I was twelve years old.
Her stifled sobs at night, during the months that followed, still echo in my memory.She was never the same after that, as if a light had permanently gone out in her.
"I will not be like him."This promise, I had made it as a child, then as a teenager, and finally as a man.It had become my moral anchor, my red line never to cross.
I refused to do that to Eva.If one day she was no longer enough for me, I would end our relationship properly, with dignity, giving her the opportunity to rebuild her life.No lies, no double lives, no betrayals that destroy the heart and soul.I had witnessed that destruction, that slow agony of trust.What kind of man would I be if I reproduced exactly what I had so despised?
I declined her invitation, despite the burning desire flowing through my veins.
"It's late, I should go home."
My husky voice betrayed my turmoil.She took a step toward me, coming close enough that I could feel the heat of her body radiating through our clothes, her chest lightly brushing against mine.An enigmatic smile formed on her lips as she adjusted the collar of my jacket, her fingers deliberately lingering on the fabric.She rose on tiptoe to kiss me, but I placed a hand on her lips, stopping her.
"Why are you resisting?"she asked."We both know you're dying to."
"Good night, Audrey."
If she was disappointed, she didn't show it.I watched her disappear into her Haussmannian building.
It wasn't until I was back in the car, as Lorenzo drove me home, that reality caught up with me.Eva.I hadn't responded to her messages.If her first text had gone unanswered through simple negligence, my silence had gradually become intentional.What do you say to the woman you're betraying?Because even if I hadn't crossed the line with Audrey, my desire for her was no less guilty.Eva had been right to be suspicious.How would I be able to face her now?
I took my phone out of my pocket, staring at the black screen as if it would give me a valid excuse for my behavior.But no excuse could justify the way my heart beat faster at the thought of Audrey.
I hadn't stopped loving Eva, no.Our years together hadn't evaporated.But something had broken, insidiously.Our exchanges, once natural and spontaneous, had become obligations that weighed on me.Each conversation seemed to carry the weight of our unspoken words, our silent reproaches.
With Audrey, everything was lighter, simpler.No shared history, no expectations, just this intoxicating connection that made me forget my responsibilities.
Guilt overwhelmed me.
I was betraying Eva.
Not in a dramatic way, not with irreparable acts, but perhaps in a more perverse manner.I was betraying her in those little stolen moments with Audrey, in those knowing smiles, in this radio silence that spoke volumes more than any explanation.I was betraying her by letting another woman occupy my thoughts.
I was a jerk, and the worst part was that I was perfectly aware of it.This lucidity only made me more contemptible.Eva deserved better than that, better than the man I was becoming.
When I pushed open the door to our home, Eva came forward in the entryway.Her "Good evening" was barely more than a whisper, accompanied by a hesitant smile that broke my heart.She stood there, motionless, as if she no longer knew what place she occupied in my life.This same Eva who, not so long ago, would rush into my arms upon every return from a trip, eager to see me again.
