Page 117 of Cursed
“Though there is the small issue of fucking the boss,” Sadie says, tilting her head. “I imagine there are rules against that sort of thing, even at Blackwood Group.”
A laugh escapes me. “I believe we’ve already violated most HR policies in existence.” I reach across the table, running my thumb along the back of her hand. “Besides, I’ve never been particularly concerned with rules.”
“Clearly,” she replies, her eyes darkening as my touch lingers.
We finish dinner in comfortable silence, the tension between us building like an electrical charge. As I clear our plates, a thought that’s been nagging me for days resurfaces.
“Seven months from now, the contract expires,” I state, setting the dishes in the sink and turning to study her reaction carefully.
She freezes, wine glass halfway to her lips.
“What happens then?” I ask, keeping my voice deliberately casual, though I know my eyes betray my intensity.
Sadie sets down her glass. I can see the realization dawning on her—this is the first time I’ve acknowledged that our arrangement has an end date.
Will she leave when she’s legally free to do so?
She takes a deep breath. “I haven’t thought about leaving in weeks, Landon.”
A tightness in my chest loosens, though I maintain my composure.
“Despite how this began,” she continues, meeting my gaze directly, “I stay with you now because I choose to, not because of any contract.”
I move closer, drawn to her like a moth to flame.
“I don’t want to leave,” she whispers. “Not after the year ends. Not ever.”
“Why?” The words escape me before I can stop them.
Sadie stands, closing the distance between us. “Because I love you.”
My breath catches.
“I love every part of you—the shadows, the fierce way you guard what’s yours.” Her fingertips graze my jawline. “Not despite those things, but because of them. You see me, and I see you. Our fractures fit like pieces of the same ruin.”
I stand frozen, the wordlovehanging between us like a live grenade. Her declaration strips me bare, more vulnerable than any physical nakedness ever could. My throat tightens, muscles constricting around words I’ve never spoken to anyone.
“I don’t know how to say it back,” I admit. “Those words... they don’t come easily to me.”
Her eyes hold no judgment, only patient understanding that makes this somehow both easier and infinitely more difficult.
I turn away, unable to maintain eye contact as I feel the walls I’ve built for decades beginning to crack.
“My father died when I was five.” The words scrape my throat raw. “Motorcycle accident. He was...” I clench my fists, forcing myself to continue. “He was on his way to pick me up from school. I’d gotten into a fight with another kid—fucking stupid argument over a toy. The school called him to come get me.”
Sadie remains silent, her presence steady by my side.
“He was going too fast. Lost control on Jefferson Bridge.” My voice sounds hollow, detached, as if someone else is speaking. “If I hadn’t started that fight, he wouldn’t have been on that bridge at that exact moment.”
I stand up and move to the window, staring at the city lights without seeing them.
“When Knox was born, my mother was late to the hospital because I fell and scraped my knees bloody at the park. She had to clean me up first.” A bitter laugh escapes me. “Knox nearly died. The cord was wrapped around his neck. If she’d been there sooner, she’d probably still be...”
I press my forehead against the cool glass.
“I’ve always felt cursed,” I confess. “Like I bring destruction to everyone I care about.”
The admission hangs in the air, the most honest thing I’ve ever said to another human being.
