Chapter 235
They arrived at her apartment building. He put the car in park, but the doors didn’t unlock.
“Give me your phone,” he said.
“Why?” She clutched it to her chest.
“So I can put my number in,” he said. “In case you need legal advice.”
It was a lie. They both knew it.
She handed the phone over. He typed quickly and handed it back.
The contact read: Justin Collins.
His gaze held hers for a moment longer than necessary — a quiet, deliberate assertion that had nothing to do with the name on the screen.
Back in the penthouse, the morning light was harsh. Jocelyn sat on the sofa, her phone in her hand, the voicemail icon staring up at her.
D𝘰𝘸𝗇l𝗼a𝖽 P𝘋𝘍𝘴 𝖿𝗿e𝗲 о𝗻 g𝖺𝗹ո𝘰𝘷e𝗅𝗌.𝘤𝘰m
She pressed play.
“Jocelyn, dear,” Mrs. Gable’s voice crackled through the speaker. “I wanted to thank you again. And… I realized something. That young man you married, Gaston? He looked so familiar.”
Jocelyn held her breath.
“I was at the school organizing old files for the archives,” Mrs. Gable continued. “And I found the old nurse’s office logbook from that year. He was the senior who carried you in — the day you fainted from anemia during your freshman year. Everyone said it was Kieran, but the nurse’s note is perfectly clear. It says: ‘Entry log: Jocelyn Wolfe, fainting. Brought in by G. Collins (Senior).’”
The message ended.
Jocelyn set the phone down on the cushion.
Her mind traveled back to her freshman year — the blurry memory of waking up in the nurse’s bed. Kieran had been sitting in the chair beside her, looking bored. She had assumed he had brought her. He had let her assume it. He had built the entire foundation of their relationship on that borrowed credit.
He stole it, she realized. For years.
And Gaston? He saved me. And never said a word.
She looked up. Gaston was in the kitchen, wiping down the espresso machine, his back to her.
She walked over. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.
“Gaston,” she said softly.
He turned. “Coffee?”
“Mrs. Gable says you were the one who carried me to the nurse’s office freshman year,” she said.
Gaston froze. The cloth in his hand stopped moving. The espresso machine hissed loudly in the silence.
He switched it off. He didn’t look at her. He looked at the counter.
“She’s old,” he said. “She probably remembers it wrong.”
It was a terrible lie. They both knew it.
“Don’t lie to me,” Jocelyn said, stepping closer. “Not about this.”
He exhaled. He leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his arms.
“You were light,” he murmured. “Too light.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why let me believe it was Kieran?”
Tears pricked at her eyes.
“Because you were already in love with him,” he said. He looked up and met her gaze. “And I was just a senior leaving for college. I didn’t want to be a hero. I just wanted you safe.”