Page 166 of Sin

That one lands and I turn from the window to face him.

Wilder sits forward, elbows on his knees. “You love her?”

“Yes.”

“You told Jenna. You told us. You told your attorney. Did you ever tell Laurel?”

I say nothing.

His brows lift. “Sin.”

“She knows.”

“Does she?”

“She has to.”

“Women love when men assume their deepest emotional needs have been met by vibes.”

I glare at him.

He points at me. “Don’t glare. I’m right.”

I hate him. I also hate that he is right.

“She was publicly named, harassed, moved out of her apartment, stayed away from work, hired a lawyer, got dragged into your divorce, and may be deciding whether to leave the company she helped build a launch for.” Wilder’s voice softens. “If you love her, maybe she deserves to hear it from you when you’re not in crisis mode.”

“She won’t answer my calls.”

“Then write.”

I look at him.

His mouth curves faintly. “You do know what words are, right? Big CEO. Emails. Memos. Threatening little notes to suppliers.”

“A letter?”

“Old-school. Very on brand for a man who caused a scandal and then moved into a beige apartment to suffer artistically.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He stands and grabs his coat. “Write the letter. Don’t send it until your attorney says you can. But write it.”

He leaves before I can argue.

The apartment goes silent again. This time, I don’t sit in it. I go to the desk I haven’t used since I moved in, pull open a drawer, and take out a sheet of paper.

For a long time, I stare at the blank page. Then I write her name.

Laurel.

My hand stills. Her name looks different when it isn’t in a text thread, an email chain, a legal document, or a headline. It looks like a beginning.

So I write.

I write that I’m sorry. I tell her the divorce is settling. I tell her Jenna will be taken care of. I tell her I didn’t expose Jenna’s affair publicly because pain shouldn’t be a weapon just because someone else used it first. I tell her I should have left my marriage before touching her. I tell her she deserved a man who came to her clean. I tell her I failed her. I tell her I am trying to become that man anyway.

Then I stop. Because the next part is the part that matters.