The Broken Vows: Zane and Celeste’s Story (The Windsors)

Unexpected loneliness hits me hard when I wake up all alone in Zane’s bed, dressed in nothing but my bridal lingerie. His entire room feels unfamiliar, and I didn’t think it’d hurt so much to know he went through such great lengths to erase me from his life. I did the same, after all.

My fingers wrap around the sheets as last night’s events flash through my mind, and heat rushes to my cheeks. Zane pulled out of me the second he came, the spell we were both under breaking instantly. He barely spared me a glance as he tidied his clothes and walked away, leaving me in his bed, evidence of what we’d done all over my thighs.

In Hawaii, we’d both been drinking, but last night… last night was different. Maybe it was the way he called me Celestial, or the way he called me his wife. I felt enchanted, desperate to lose myself in him, and I know the feeling was mutual.

I sigh as I get out of bed, surprised to find half his walk-in wardrobe already filled with my clothes. Bitterness seeps in at the sight of it, reality slowly tugging at me for attention. I bite down on my lip and walk into his shower, suddenly desperate to wash every last trace of him off me. I wasn’t supposed to feel this good with him, wasn’t supposed to forget. Being around him again is confusing, and I’m scared I’ll lose sight of my goals over time. How am I supposed to last three years when I couldn’t even resist him for one single night? Even in Hawaii… it wasn’t me who stayed away. It was him.

I bury my hands in my hair and squeeze my eyes closed, my chest aching as water rains down on me. Remorse takes hold, and I draw a shaky breath when Lily crosses my mind, followed by everything Zane has done to Harrison Developments. When he touches me, it’s so easy to pretend he’s the man I used to love, when that version of him never truly existed.

By the time I’m dressed and ready for the day, I’m much calmer, my usual shield back in place, fueled by guilt. Zane looks up when I walk into the kitchen, and I pause, surprised to find him leaning against the counter with a coffee cup in his hand, a black t-shirt covering his torso and a pair of gray sweats hanging low on his hip.

“Morning,” he says, his tone gruff and his expression guarded. “I trust you slept well?”

I nod and take a hesitant step forward, unsure what to do or say. It’s hard to believe that he’s my husband now, when neither of us can stand the other. I’ve never felt this way — so conflicted.

Zane pushes off the counter and sighs, reluctance written all over his face. “Why don’t I show you around? You’ll be living here for the foreseeable future, after all.”

He walks out of the kitchen before waiting for me to respond, and irritation cascades over me as I follow him. Zane barely looks at me as he moves from room to room, his expression carefully blank, like he’s trying to hide how much I’m inconveniencing him.

Something heavy settles in my chest when I realize every single aspect of his house has changed. Some of the walls have been knocked down, and the layout is entirely different. Five years ago, I could navigate this place in my sleep. “Is there anything you didn’t change?” I ask without thinking, suddenly feeling aggrieved for reasons I can’t admit to.

He glances over his shoulder and sighs as he leads me back to the kitchen. “No.” Zane runs a hand through his hair, the gesture so familiar that it makes my heart ache. “I guess I’ll have to change it again in three years.”

He pauses in the middle of his kitchen and turns to face me, his expression guarded as we study each other. I take in the slight stubble on his jaw, his messy hair, and the gray sweats that he knows I’ve always loved. The sense of loss completely overwhelms me, and I draw a shaky breath as my mind begins to torment me with visions of him with someone else.

“Who is it?” I ask, my voice trembling more than I’d have liked. “The girl you renovated the house for.” I still remember how he redid his whole driveway because I’d complained about the way my heels were damaged by his gravel. It’d only take a few comments from a girl he’s devoted to for him to redo his whole house, and it kills me that it’s no longer me. Maybe it never was.

Zane stares at me and crosses his arms, his expression hardening. “That’s not really any of your business, is it?”

My heart lurches, and something dark and twisted settles in my stomach. “It is,” I snap. “I’m your wife.”

He looks disarmed for a moment, and then he sighs. Zane walks up to me, and I tense when he reaches for me, my heart skipping a beat. His hands wrap around my waist, and he lifts me on top of his kitchen counter effortlessly, the way he used to. I instinctively place my palm on his chest, his t-shirt soft against my fingers.

Zane parts my legs to stand between them, and I look up at him, feeling oddly vulnerable. How many times have we stood together like this? How many times has he wrapped his hand in my hair and kissed me, only to end up taking me in this exact position, telling me I’m his goddess, that he can’t get enough?

“Are you?” he asks, his thumbs caressing me just below my chest. “Are you my wife, Celeste? Or are you just someone I was forced to share my last name with for a couple of years?”

I slide my hand up to his shoulders, my heart pounding wildly. “Does it matter?”

“It does. Marriage has always been important to me, and this… this isn’t a real marriage.”

I tighten my grip on him, my nails digging into him as bitterness seeps into my soul. “What is this supposed to be? A prelude to your justification for infidelity? Our marriage might be a sham, but the contract we signed was real. Don’t you dare cheat on me, Zane.”

He tightens his grip on my waist and leans in, a soft sigh on his lips as he drops his forehead to my shoulder. Zane turns his face, his lips brushing past the spot he marked last night, and my heart begins to race. He stays there for a few moments, and I’m so tempted to wrap my arms around him like I used to, to hold on tight and lose myself in his embrace. It’s been so long since anyone has hugged me, and I miss that kind of intimacy more than I thought I would.

When Zane pulls back to look at me, he seems weary, tired. “I won’t keep doing this with you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t play these games with you anymore. I can’t, Celeste — I can’t spend the next three years of my life in constant battle.”

He lets go of me and inhales deeply, his shirt riding up a little as he runs a hand through his hair, giving me a glimpse of his abs. He levels me with a stare so heartbroken that it takes my breath away. “I won’t cheat on you,” he tells me, his tone conveying his sincerity. “I never have, and I never will. The fact you won’t believe me is what tore us apart in the first place. I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done, both to us, and to my business.” He reaches for me and pushes a curl behind my ear. “There was a time I’d have done anything for you.” He shakes his head, regret marring his face as he pulls his hand back. “Now I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Stop it,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “It’s been five years since my best friend took her own life after begging me to forgive her for being with you. The very least you could do to honor her memory is be honest. What do you stand to gain from denying it after all these years?”

He looks away and sighs. “Indeed, Celeste. What do I stand to gain?”