𝐄𝐙𝐄𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

12

I leaned back against the doorframe, watching as Xavier carefully placed something inside a small gift box. There was a certain tenderness in his movements, something I didn’t often see. It made me wonder about the layers he kept hidden beneath that cool, controlled demeanor. Unable to resist, I let a grin slip onto my face, letting curiosity get the best of me.

“What’s inside?” I asked, crossing my arms as I stepped further into the room, timing it just as he closed the lid.

Xavier glanced up briefly, his expression carefully neutral. “A book and a pen,” he replied, setting the box aside on the polished table with the same measured care he applied to everything.

“For my cousin-in-law, right? Anniversary gift?” I teased, settling myself onto the leather couch, stretching out with casual ease. I kept my voice light, but inside, I was already wondering about what I didn’t know. His marriage to Jade had always been a mystery, an enigma wrapped in silence.

Xavier sighed, picking up a pen and turning back to the scattered documents on his desk. “Why are you here, Eze?” he asked, barely looking up.

But I wasn’t going to let him off that easily. Ignoring his question, I leaned forward, smirking. “So, when do we get to meet your wife properly? And I mean, really meet her, Xavier."

His reaction was subtle, but I caught it. His shoulders stiffened, and for a split second, his cool façade slipped. “You’ve already met her,” he answered, his tone even, but there was an edge, a guardedness.

“You know that’s not what I’m asking,” I pushed gently, testing the waters.

Xavier’s hand paused mid-signature, his grip on the pen tightening as if it were an anchor. For once, the man who never let anyone in looked vulnerable. He couldn’t hide it from me; I knew him too well.

“I’m… not ready,” he admitted softly, almost as if the words were being pulled from somewhere he hadn’t wanted to revisit. There was something raw, haunted even, in his voice. Something that hinted at a deeper struggle.

Five years he’d been married to Jade. Five years of maintaining this uneasy distance, hovering between commitment and estrangement. I’d always thought of Xavier as a man who could command anything—business deals, boardrooms, entire corporations. And yet, here he was, hesitating to command his own heart.

“How long can you keep holding on like this?” I asked, my gaze steady, letting the weight of the question sink in.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he sat there, silent, as if wrestling with demons I couldn’t see. His jaw was clenched, his eyes cast down as though looking for answers in the fine wood grain of his desk.

“It’s… complicated,” he finally murmured, his voice so quiet I almost missed it. “We barely talk. Every day, it’s just… a handful of words. The silence—it’s become our normal.”

I leaned forward, unwilling to let him dodge this. “Xavier, you know what you need to do,” I said, my voice firmer than before. “It only takes one bite to mark her forever. One moment of honesty.”

He froze, his face hardening as he stared at me. “I won’t do that to her,” he said, his tone resolute. “Not her.”

There it was. The depth of his fear, his protectiveness. And his guilt. This was the side of Xavier no one else ever saw—the man who’d risk everything to avoid hurting the one person he cherished most.

“You’re giving her everything except the truth,” I continued, letting him see that I wasn’t backing down. “And don’t tell me you’re not seeing the way she’s changed around you. How she’s softened. She cares, Xavier, whether you’re willing to see it or not. Those gifts you give her every year? They mean something to her.”

He turned his head, looking away. His jaw was set, tension carving deep lines into his face. I’d seen that look before, usually in boardrooms, when he was facing down his toughest opponents. But now? It was different—raw, almost… vulnerable.

I stood up, feeling that I’d said enough for now. But as I reached the door, I paused, glancing back at him, choosing my words carefully. “Just… be careful with Sofia,” I warned, letting the name hang in the air like a storm cloud. “She’s aiming for your heart.”

Xavier’s expression flickered, a subtle tension tightening around his mouth, but he didn’t say anything. With one last look, I turned and left, hoping my words had found their mark.

As I made my way down the hall, thoughts of Sofia weighed on me. She was Victoria’s so-called adopted daughter—not legally, of course, but Victoria treated her as one. I knew exactly why she’d sent Sofia here, to Xavier’s own company, hoping she’d win his heart. But I also knew my cousin better than that. Xavier was fiercely loyal, and his love for Jade ran deep, even if he struggled to show it.

Victoria, his stepmother, had never accepted Jade, never seen her as worthy of Xavier. She seemed intent on dismantling his marriage, piece by piece, sending Sofia as the final wedge. But Victoria didn’t understand Xavier’s heart. No matter how much she schemed, no matter how much Sofia tried to win his affection, nothing could break the bond he held with his wife. His love for Jade wasn’t the kind of thing that could be shattered by manipulation or deceit.

But I also have my own dilemma.

Akira.

That name clings to my mind like ink on skin, a mark that refuses to fade. She’s carved into my thoughts, as vivid and permanent as a tattoo, haunting me in moments when I least expect it. Every time I close my eyes, I can see her—those piercing eyes that cut through every pretense, the defiant spark in her gaze, and the way her voice lingers, leaving an imprint I can’t shake.

It’s infuriating. She’s relentless, stubborn, and as fiery as she is mysterious. She’s always there, in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of the one thing I can’t have.

I remember the day I went back  to Suzette, practically begging her again to give me Akira’s number, desperate for any connection to her. I didn’t care if it made me seem foolish, just as long as it gave me a way to reach her. But Suzette only looked at me, apologetic, and finally admitted that Akira had told her—no, warned her—not to share her number or any details with me.

I hated hearing that, but I had to respect it. Akira already despised me enough; I couldn’t risk pushing her further. I couldn’t stand the thought of her hating me even more.

Yes, I could easily ask Eros, and he’d probably hand over anything I needed. But that would be crossing a line, breaking the thin boundary of trust Akira might still have. And if she found out, she’d never forgive me.

So I’m stuck in this endless loop. Akira is my dilemma. My fascination. My forbidden desire. And the very thing I can’t let go of, no matter how much I try.