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

“Where are you taking me?” my wife asks when I park my car in front of our private jet, where Lex is already waiting for us. I reach for Celeste and take her in my arms, unable to let her go. She gasps and wraps her arm around my neck as I carry her onto the plane, her startled expression earning her a chuckle from Lex when we pass him. “Zane?”

“You’ll see,” I tell her, every inch of my body reluctant as I place her down in her own seat, when all I want to do is hold her close.

Celeste studies me as Lex enters the cockpit, her gaze roaming over my face with the same kind of longing I’m feeling. “You’re only delaying the inevitable,” she tells me eventually, moments before the plane takes off. “You should have taken your grandmother’s offer. We both know it was a one-time deal.”

“Celeste Windsor. I will never let you go. Fuck, Celestial, I couldn’t even stand the thought of not being on your mind in the years we were apart — that’s why I attacked Harrison Developments the way I did, why I never let it go so far that you couldn’t recover.”

My wife studies me quietly, cautious hope flickering in her eyes. “We tried,” she says, her voice breaking. “For months now, we’ve done nothing but try to make this work.”

“No. We didn’t. We hid behind our wounds and threw blame around the moment things got tough. We didn’t try, Celeste — I didn’t, not the way you deserve.”

She falls silent, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “This won’t change anything, Zane. We’ll just end up with more regrets.”

I stare at her as she looks out the window, and for the first time since we got married, I’m filled with unwavering confidence. “I’d regret it a whole lot more if I didn’t do this, if we didn’t give this a real shot — not the way we have before, without giving you my all.”

She falls silent and stares at me throughout the flight, her expression cautious. It’s like she wants to believe in us but just doesn’t know how to.

“Where are we?” she asks, breaking the silence between us as the plane begins to descend.

I smile at her. “My private island.” Celeste’s eyes widen, and I grin at her as we land, stopping right outside the mansion I had built here.

Lex steps out of the cockpit and levels us both with a stare. “Let me just make one thing clear,” he says as we rise from our seats. “I’m turning this plane around immediately, and I will not pick you up until I’m certain you’ve worked things out. I have never seen a couple that’s been through more than you’ve been without losing the love that’s still so obviously there between you. Do not let your insecurities and the past ruin what is bound to be a great future.”

I nod at my younger brother, and he sighs as his gaze settles on Celeste. He reaches for her and musses her hair as she walks past him, and she looks back at him, something passing between them. “It’s going to be okay,” he tells her. “You belong with us, Celeste. This is what family does — we argue, we fall out with each other, but we always find our way back.”

She swallows hard, and I lock my jaw when she rushes past Lex, a tear running down her face. I glare at him and knock my shoulder against his, hard. “You made my wife cry, asshole,” I mutter.

Lex laughs and shakes his head. “Damn. I’ll never be that whipped,” he says to himself, and I grin as I follow my wife, knowing that isn’t true — it’s a Windsor trait. Our wives own us, and I let myself forget it for a little while.

Celeste tenses when I grab her hand, and she looks at me with such hesitation that regret, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, rushes over me. I sigh and entwine our fingers as I lead her to the front door. My wife is rarely this quiet, and I haven’t seen her look this defeated in a long time, not since the first time she attended family dinner with me — and even then, it wasn’t quite this bad. She looks at me like she’s ready to let me go.

I throw her a hopeful smile as I pull her into the house, and she gasps, her grip tightening when she realizes I’m a lot further from moving on than she seems to think I am. “You and I, Celeste… we’ve always been far more similar than either of us ever wanted to admit. It’s why we work so well when we aren’t standing in our own way.” When she lifts her face to look at me, my beautiful wife looks entirely disarmed. “Just like you kept your old house intact, I kept our memories too.”

I pull her through the house that now holds all of our old furniture, all our memories. Celeste begins to cry as her fingers trail over my white fabric sofa, the one that played a key role in our most precious memories, and she sniffs as she glances at the coffee table we picked together.

“I never let you go,” I tell her, “and I’m not about to do so now.”

She follows me to the kitchen, the design similar to my old one, and she bites down on her lip as a tear spills from her eyes. I try my hardest to force a smile for her, and she tries to smile back when I reach for her and lift her on top of the kitchen counter.

Her legs part for me, seemingly without thinking, because that’s just how many times we’ve stood like that together. My hands wrap around her waist, and I lean in, my forehead dropping against hers. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry, Celestial.”

She draws a shaky breath, and I dip my head, my lips brushing against hers, once, twice, before I kiss her softly, my touch conveying my regret. We’re both breathing hard when I pull away to look at her, the air between us filled with the kind of hope that scares us both.

“I’m sorry for getting mad at you when I should’ve reassured you. I’m sorry for not being more understanding, and for not reciprocating all your efforts. Instead of seeing the situation for what it is, I viewed it through a lens that’s tainted by the past, and it wasn’t fair.”

She looks away, her shoulders sagging, and I can tell she doesn’t know what to think, doesn’t have any faith in us anymore.

I cup her cheek and turn her face toward me. “I should’ve understood it’ll take time to heal, and that broken trust can’t be fixed overnight. Instead of getting mad or being disappointed with your reaction, I should’ve understood and worked with you. I should’ve reassured you, but instead, I condemned you for showing me your wounds. Just because I didn’t cheat on you doesn’t mean you aren’t suffering from the emotional wounds the entire situation left you with, and as your husband, I failed you by not supporting you the way I should have.”

“Zane,” she whispers, her voice trailing off.

I shake my head. “I love you, Celeste Windsor — just as you are today. Neither of us is perfect, and I should’ve shown you more grace. The truth is I was scared, and I’d been expecting the worst from you. Because of that, I ended up doing exactly what I accused you of. I took the easy way out by pushing you away, over and over again, despite your best attempts to fix us.”

She looks into my eyes, her gaze filled with cautious hope. “What does that mean?” I know what she’s asking — how do my words change anything when her best efforts didn’t seem like enough?

“Let me fight for you, for us. Give me a chance to be the man you think I am, to love you the way you deserve to be loved. Let’s find a way to face our past and overcome it, instead of dancing around each other in an attempt not to pour salt into open wounds. Celeste, I want this with you, even if we can never regain the kind of happiness we had, even if our best attempts lead to only a fraction of it.”

She places her hand on my chest, and I smile, my heart racing as I wait for her answer. “Won’t we just be prolonging the pain? Some things can’t be fixed, Zane.”

I shake my head and bury a hand in her hair. “Maybe not, but we can rebuild from the ruins.”

My beautiful wife draws a shaky breath and leans in to rest her head on my shoulder. My eyes fall closed as my arms wrap around her, and she sighs when I hug her tightly.

This time, I won’t let her go.