Page 113 of Forbidden Fruit
I freeze. No.
With a sharp, deliberate motion, I slam the knife down against the cutting board. The sound of the blade hitting the wood is loud, jarring, cutting through whatever words he was about to say.
Calvin stops in his tracks. There’s a flicker in his eyes, a moment of hesitation, but he doesn’t retreat like he should.
For a long, unbearable stretch of time, the only sound is the faint hum of the fridge.
Finally, he speaks again.
“Okay,” he says, “you don’t want me close, and that’s fair. But can you put the knife down so we can talk?”
I don’t look at him. I can’t. But I feel him, the force of him, looming over me, larger than life in this tiny, cold apartment. The heat of his presence presses down on me, making the space feel even smaller.
“Blair…” Now he’s more cautious, like he’s afraid of pushing me too far.
I glance at him coldly, still gripping the knife. “What are you doing here, Calvin?”
“Well, your friend Dylan got in contact with me and told me everything. That’s how I found out Abigail knows about us and that she asked you to leave,” he says, his voice tight with emotion. “I thought you left because you hated me…”
“That too,” I cut him off sharply.
He flinches but continues, jaw tightening. “I know. Abigail and I…” he pauses, his gaze dropping to the counter as though searching for courage. “Here,” he says, sliding a folded piece of paper across the counter. “Just read this. It’ll explain everything.”
Skeptical, I turn the stove off, dry my hands, and begin to read. The blur of words forms a shocking revelation. My breathing becomes shallow. I understand what it means, but the betrayal burns like acid in my chest. Without a second thought, I walk straight to Calvin and slap him hard across the face. The sound of it ricochets through the apartment.
My palm stings, but it’s nothing compared to the ache clawing at my chest.
“What is this?” I demand. My hands tremble as I shove the paper back at him.
“I know you’re mad…”
“Mad?” I scoff bitterly. “Mad doesn’t begin to cover it. Try angry. Try fucking furious.”
Calvin exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I wanted to tell you. Fuck, I wanted to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t risk it.”
“A fucking contract? Really?” I snap, waving the paper in front of his face. The document is a non-disclosure agreement between him and Abby, outlining the terms of their ‘fake engagement/wedding’.
I stare at him, disbelief and rage roaring in my chest. “You lied to me. Both of you lied to me. You just stood there, letting me believe I was the worst person in theworld. Do you have any idea what you put me through? Thinking I betrayed my sister? Thinking I was a homewrecker?”
His shoulders sag as though the weight of his own guilt is finally crushing him. “I know, Blair, I was wrong, and I’m…”
“Why now?” I cut him off because I don’t want his ‘sorry’. “Why are you showing me this now?”
He steps closer, his eyes brimming with emotion. “Because I couldn’t stay silent anymore. Because losing you, watching you walk away, was one of the worst things that’s ever happened to me. I love you, Blair. I think I loved you the moment you made me watch Barbie with you. And I couldn’t let you keep carrying the weight of something that was never your fault.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut.Love. He says it like it’s supposed to fix everything, like it’s enough to erase the hurt, the betrayal, the months of self-loathing.
But it isn’t.
It never will be.
“I had a long talk with Abigail,” he continues. “I told her I love you and wanted to be with you.”
Every time he says the wordlove,my legs weaken beneath me. I stumble backward and sink onto the coffee table, unable to keep standing.
He doesn’t stop; his words come steadily, almost ruthless in their honesty. “The NDA was my idea. When I met your sister, all I wanted was to build my skyscraper. It was my dream, Blair. The only thing I’d worked toward for years, and I wasn’t willing to lose it. And the board thought I needed to soften my image, make myself more approachable. So I figured… why not kill two birds with one stone?”
He takes a breath, eyes flickering with regret. “I offered Abigail a deal: marry me, stay for a year, then walk awaywith a million dollars. She agreed. But she had her own terms.”
