The echo of the door closing behind him felt like a gunshot in the silence. James pressed his back against the wood, his chest heaving as Victoria's broken sobs filtered through the barrier between them. Each strangled cry was a dagger twisting in his gut, and he hated himself for being the cause of such raw pain.
What kind of monster am I?
The taste of what they'd just done lingered bitter on his tongue. Cold. Mechanical. He had touched her like she was nothing, used her body like an outlet for his rage and confusion, and the memory made his stomach churn with self-loathing.
He couldn't stand to see her broken, vulnerable, everything he'd reduced her to. So he ran. He retreated to the spare bedroom and buried his face in his hands, trying to block out the sound of her pain.
Twenty minutes passed before he heard the front door open and close with a soft finality. Victoria was gone. James could breathe again, though each breath felt like swallowing glass. His heart ached with a physical pain that radiated through his chest, a constant throb that reminded him of everything he'd lost.
He needed time. Space. Distance from the tangled mess of emotions that threatened to suffocate him every time he thought of her.
When Christmas arrived, James found himself standing on his childhood doorstep, the familiar scent of his mother's cooking and pine wreaths washing over him like a warm embrace. His parents' faces lit up the moment they saw him, and James felt something other than the crushing weight in his chest.
"My boy!" His father pulled him into a bear hug, the pride evident in his weathered features. "Look at you, CEO of your own company. I always knew that investment would pay off, this exceeds even my wildest dreams."
His mother's eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she cupped his face in her hands. "We're so proud of you, James. So incredibly proud."
Liana bounced on her toes beside them, her grin infectious. "CEO James! Oh, this is going to be fun. Should I curtsy every time I see you now? Or maybe just call you 'Your Business Majesty'?"
James found himself laughing for what felt like the first time since that night. "Don't you dare."
"Too late, big brother. I'm definitely making business cards that say 'Sister to the CEO.'" She linked her arm through his. "Come on, CEO James, Mom made your favorite cookies."
The holiday wrapped around him like a security blanket, each familiar tradition and gentle teasing from Liana slowly unknotting the tension in his shoulders. For brief moments, he could forget about the complications waiting for him back in the city.
Until Christmas morning, when he noticed the elaborate display of gifts beneath their tree that definitely hadn't been there in previous years.
"Where did all these come from?" he asked, frowning at the elegant wrapping and expensive looking packages that seemed far beyond his family's usual modest exchanges.
His mother's face brightened immediately. "Oh, those are from Victoria! Isn't she just the sweetest thing?"
James felt the blood drain from his face. "Victoria sent gifts?"
"Not just sent them," his father chimed in, settling into his favorite armchair with a content smile. "She delivered most of them personally when she came to visit."
"She came to visit?" The words barely made it past the sudden tightness in James's throat. "When? Why?"
His mother clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with the same joy she'd shown when James was a child and had done something particularly wonderful. "Oh, it was the most amazing thing! Your father and I were supposed to close the shop early that day to go to our respective club meetings, but Victoria showed up and insisted on helping out instead."
"She worked at the flower shop?" James sank onto the couch, his mind reeling.
"Worked? Honey, she transformed the place!" His mother settled beside him, her hands animated as she spoke. "At first, we were hesitant, I mean, she's this successful tech businesswoman, what could she possibly know about plants and flowers? She insisted, and oh my goodness, James, she was incredible."
His father nodded enthusiastically. "Best sales day we've had all month. She had this way of talking to people, understanding exactly what they needed. Made every customer feel special."
"You know how the tabloids paint her as this cold, calculating woman? What absolute nonsense. She's warm and funny and so incredibly kind. She spent twenty minutes helping Mrs. Peterson pick out flowers for her late husband's grave, and she didn't charge her full price when she thought we weren't looking before we left."
James's head was spinning. He tried to process this image of Victoria, his Victoria, standing behind the counter of his parents' modest flower shop, arranging bouquets and charming customers with the same genuine smile that had captured his heart.
"You're so lucky to have found her, sweetheart. That girl loves you something fierce, I could see it in her eyes every time she mentioned you. And the way she talked about your dreams, your ambitions... She's so proud of you, James. So proud and so supportive."
"The media really does have a talent for twisting truth into lies," his father added with a disgusted shake of his head. "That sweet girl they tried to crucify is nothing like the woman who spent the afternoon in our shop."
His mother launched into another round of Victoria's praises, recounting every thoughtful gesture, every moment of kindness she'd witnessed. With each word, James felt the walls he'd built around his heart beginning to crack.
Why? The question pounded in his skull. Why did she do this?
They didn't know about the breakup, didn't know that he and Victoria were no longer together. So what was her motivation? Was this some elaborate manipulation, a way to ensure his family would pressure him to take her back? That didn't align with the Victoria he knew, the woman who would never once use emotional manipulation to get what she wanted. Now however, he thinks otherwise.