The Cheater [JenLisa]

Chapter 23

"You were quiet at dinner," Somi said softly, eyes searching.

Lisa took a slow breath, her gaze dropping to the untouched cup of tea.
"I'm scared," she admitted. "Not of Jennie... not really. But of what happens next."

Somi nodded, understanding.

"The past isn't a story you just close and forget. It's a scar. Sometimes it itches, sometimes it burns."

Lisa's eyes flicked up, meeting Somi's steady gaze.

"I don't want Liam to get hurt again."

"We won't let that happen," Somi promised, squeezing her hand.

But Jennie's mind refused to settle.

She replayed the brief encounter with Liam over and over — his small nod, the guarded way he touched the photo album, like he was holding onto a piece of a world that had once been his.

Could I really be his mother again? The woman who abandoned him?
Kai's name haunted the edges of her thoughts. A mistake she had tried to bury beneath layers of shame and regret.

And Blake — steady, calm Blake — who waited patiently, never pushing, but always there like an anchor in the storm.

But tonight, Blake's patience felt like a test she wasn't sure she could pass.
Back in the hotel suite, Blake poured himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light.

"I saw the way you looked at Liam," he said without turning, voice low but unreadable.

Jennie didn't reply immediately.

"I'm trying," she said finally, her voice rough. "But it feels like every step forward is two steps back."

Blake's footsteps were soft as he approached.

"You're not perfect," he said. "None of us are. But you're fighting. That counts for something."

She met his eyes — calm, steady, unyielding.

"Does it?" she whispered. "Because sometimes, I wonder if it's enough."

He took a breath, steady but heavy. "It is. You are."

Something in his tone cracked through her guard. She blinked fast, but the tears still came small, uninvited, glinting in the dim office light.

Blake hesitated, then reached for her hand. Just a touch—light, careful. The warmth of his skin against hers made her breath catch. She should have pulled away. She didn't.

"Jennie..." he said softly.

She shook her head. "Don't."

But she didn't move back. Her fingers tightened around his instead. The silence stretched, filled with the sound of rain against the window and the unspoken truth neither of them dared to voice.

"You shouldn't be here," she murmured, her voice trembling. "I have Lisa. A son. This—"

"I know." His voice was barely a whisper. "I know."

Their eyes met — not in defiance, but in surrender. For a moment, the rest of the world blurred. The ache of trying, the exhaustion of pretending — it all fell away.

He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. His thumb lingered near her cheek, just close enough to feel the warmth of her skin.

She exhaled, the smallest sound, and that was all it took. He leaned in, slowly, as if asking a question he already knew the answer to.
Jennie didn't stop him.