I watched as the man I thought was unshakable crumbled before my eyes. He grabbed me by the shoulders, his grip almost bruising. "This company is the result of more than a decade of our hard work!" His voice cracked and to my shock, tears streamed down his face.
I hesitated, my instincts warring with my heart. Then, slowly, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. "We'll figure this out," I murmured, though deep down, I already knew the answer. There was only one way to save him and Cayden knew it too.
Three months later, I stood in court and took the fall for everything. The gavel came down and my world changed forever.
***
The first time Cayden visited me in prison, he sat across from me, his expression filled with guilt.
"Aubrey, the company is nothing like before now. I'm working hard to make it clean, so you won't have to worry about anything when you get out." His words were full of hope, as if he truly believed in the future he was building for us.
But the visits became less frequent as the years passed.
When he saw the bruises on my face from a fight in the yard, he clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Aubrey, you've suffered so much because of me. I've made arrangements. This won't be a problem much longer."
Yet, despite his promises, his presence began to fade.
I still remember the last time I saw him through the glass partition in the visitation room. I had dressed neatly that day, my hair tied back, my uniform spotless. Cayden's expression was unusually stern.
"Aubrey," he said, his voice low but steady, "let's get married when you're out."
My heart swelled with a bittersweet ache. I nodded, holding onto his words like a lifeline.
But after that day, he never came again. His letters became shorter, his promises fewer.
Somewhere deep down, I had known all along. We were never meant to be.
I was nothing more than a sharp blade in his hand, a tool he wielded with precision and ease. Once, in our younger days, we had been like wounded cubs licking each other's wound, drawing strength from shared pain. But that was all.
When he proposed to me all those years ago, I hadn't expected it. I had been too overwhelmed by joy to think it through, too eager to believe in a promise that was likely made out of guilt rather than love. Looking back now, I see it for what it was—an illusion I should never have clung to.