The Devious Husband: Sierra and Xavier’s Story (The Windsors)

My heart feels heavy when I get home and find my driveway empty after dinner with Graham, his girlfriend, and a few of their friends. I should be relieved that Xavier isn’t here tonight, yet I can’t help but feel a sense of loss as I get out of my car. I’d wondered how long it’d take for him to stop showing up.

I run a hand through my hair as I walk to my front door, only to pause when I find a black box waiting for me, a gold ribbon on it. My heart begins to ache when I recognize his handwriting, and the way he curls the S in my name.

My hands tremble as I carry it to my living room, my every instinct telling me that the contents will hurt me even more than he already has. I suck in a breath when I pull the ribbon loose and lift the lid, my stomach tightening as I stare at the divorce papers. I’m shaking as I reach for them, my movements slow, reluctant, as I flick through them. He signed them. I didn’t think he ever would.

I trail a finger over his signature, my heart twisting painfully. This is what I thought I wanted, yet it brings me no joy at all, no relief. It doesn’t feel like a clean break, or a fresh start, like I’d hoped it would. It just feels like heartbreak far worse than anything I’ve ever felt before.

I bite down on my lip as I glance back at the box that was far too big for the documents, my brows rising when I realize there’s something else in it. My heart begins to race when I reach for the book in it, a sticky note on the cover.

Read this before you file the papers.

Forever yours,

XK

I pull the note off to take a closer look at the cover, and my eyes widen when I read the title. The Story of Us. It looks hand bound, the cover art a painting of Xavier of me, on our wedding day. I frown when I realize the cover is textured, hand-painted, in a style I recognize all too well. This was painted by The Muse. How is that even possible? The Muse is an anonymous painter best known for their street art, and I’ve been a huge fan for years. I once mentioned to Xavier that I wish they did book covers, and he’d laughed, telling me that there wasn’t anything in life I couldn’t relate back to my love for books.

My heart is racing as I sit down on the sofa and carefully open the book, shock coursing through me when I realize that the endpages at the front also contain stunning art, painted by The Muse. I stare at the depiction of us sitting together at The Siren, surrounded by Juliet roses, the painting spanning two pages. I remember that night all too well, and more than once I’ve wished I could return to that moment, when we were happy, and the worst we’d ever done to each other was pull stupid pranks and steal projects from each other.

My hand trembles as I turn the page and read the dedication. For my wife, the love of my life. My eyes widen when realization dawns, and I turn the page. Xavier wrote this. I inhale shakily as I begin to read.

You’d be surprised to learn that I’d never even met you when I first began to love you, but it’s true. Granted, I wasn’t ‘in love’ with you, but it was love all the same. It all started with a parcel I opened by mistake, and the sweet handwritten letter it contained, along with one single cookie, both meant for my roommate — Dion Windsor.

You see, his sweet little sister had sent him a letter, telling him she missed him so much that she’d be willing to part with one of her beloved cookies, if he’d just come back home. I’d thought to myself then, Dion Windsor was the luckiest guy alive. If not for that letter, I might have continued to keep my distance, missing out on a friendship that’s lasted a lifetime — the very same friendship that would eventually lead me to the love of my life.

I’m enraptured as I read page after page, learning that Dion gave all of his cookies to Xavier throughout their years at boarding school, and each time he received a new cookie, Dion would tell Xavier all about me and the contents of the accompanying letter. It was the only time the usually gloomy Dion would glow instead, and I loved that unknown girl for having that effect on him, when nothing else did. I think that’s when I first realized just how special you are, Sierra.

I read all about how surprised he was when he first met me in person, when Dion brought him home later that year. I was just a child myself, but you were rally little, the same age as my own little sister, and you instantly seemed to dislike me. I remember thinking to myself that you had good judgment. I, on the other hand, thought you were adorable.

I smile to myself, only for my heart to constrict painfully as I keep reading and learn about Dion asking Xavier to look out for me and our brothers after they left college, many years later. Dion stayed overseas while I came back home, and I did as I was asked, checking up on you and your siblings every few months for years. I’d begun to attend poker night with them occasionally, in part because they made it easier to cope with the fact that my sweet little sister had gone missing without a trace, and in part to make sure they were okay. It wasn’t until you came home from college that I suddenly became interested in attending every single month. You see, until then, I just had my security team watch out for you — until you walked into that conference hall, and I genuinely didn’t know what hit me. I recognized those emerald eyes of yours, but everything else about you had changed, and you were quite simply the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life. I felt terrible; you were my best friend’s little sister, six years my junior, and someone I’d vowed to look out for, so I tried my best to stay away, and God, I’ve never been more grateful to have failed at something.

It’s heartwarming to read about those first few months of my career from his perspective. Everything I thought was mere coincidence, was far from it. I pause on a part that surprises me. That morning, I’d been informed you had a meeting with a CEO that always creeped me out, and I’d been worried sick, so I made sure to schedule a meeting before yours so I could stick around after. Who could’ve known that once more, it was a cookie that would seal my fate? You were standing in the hallway, seemingly nervous as you waited for your meeting, and I’d just been about to walk up to you when you grabbed a cookie from a bag and bit into it. God, the way you moaned, Sierra… It was sinful, and I wasn’t thinking straight when I approached you, needing to know how good of a cookie it could possibly be to make you sound like that. I grabbed your wrist and took a bite of your cookie, and just like that, I made it to the top of your most hated list.

I laugh to myself as I think back to that day. I’d been so sure he’d done it on purpose, to annoy me, and he’s right — it’s what made me think of him as my nemesis. I’d begun to act sassier around him, throwing glares his way each time I saw him, and he’d smile at me every time, which would just anger me further. It didn’t help that he’d begun to criticize my work every chance he got, and I didn’t realize back then that he’d just been mentoring me, in his own way. I smile to myself as I read about every single interaction we’ve ever had from his point of view, watching our story unfold differently to how I experienced it.

I couldn’t stay away after that. I told myself I was just keeping my promise to your brother each time I teased you, quietly opening corporate doors for you while protecting you from the worst parts of the industry, but we both know I’m lying. I was falling in love with you, with each piece of paper we scribbled on during a meeting, each time we butted heads, and each project we competed for. I knew you weren’t meant for me — I wasn’t just your brother’s best friend, I also had a murky past that I didn’t want spilling over into your life, but as the years passed, and I began to reform myself, I began to think that maybe, someday, I’d become someone you could love.

I pull my legs up underneath me as I continue to read about the projects he stole from me, and the way he’d let me get away with things when I genuinely thought I had the upper hand. I gasp when I read about the way I nearly got caught breaking into his house that very first time. Thinking back, those were moments that I held so dear. You have no idea how many times I’ve rewatched videos of you breaking into any of my properties, just to see you smile as you wreaked havoc. It was after that very first time, when you’d nearly gotten caught spraying graffiti on the side of my brand new office that I created the Mrs. Kingston Protocol — a security protocol that allowed you to do absolutely anything you wanted at any Kingston property, at any time. All of our security staff was trained to recognize you on the cameras that you never knew existed, and every time they spotted you, they’d follow your actions, ensuring you never set off an alarm and were never caught. The protocol only failed twice in over seven years, once because Valentina had been with you, and she didn’t have the same clearance you do, and once because a guard had already been on patrol by the time you activated the protocol, and you’d caught him by surprise. It was hubris, to name the protocol that, and I knew it, but even back then, I just couldn’t help myself when it came to you. It wasn’t anything I thought you’d ever learn about, so there was no harm in it, right?

The hours pass as I continue to read about him sneaking into poker nights and hiding it from me, so I couldn’t force my brothers to un-invite him and thereby cut off his source of inside information on me. I smirk when I read about the first time we danced the tango together, and eventually the way he felt we begun to drift apart involuntarily when Valeria returned home, his focus on her safety and wiping out any threats to her. I’d remembered then, that I wasn’t the kind of guy you would ever be with, but I kept pretending, kept deluding myself into thinking that I could be. He never even suspected that I was jealous. It didn’t even occur to him at all, judging by the several pages he wrote about trying to figure out what he’d done to deserve a stink bomb being sent to his office after the first I’d seen him with Valeria, and the way he tried to keep me from distancing myself, only to eventually decide that it’d be for the best.

My heart hammers in my chest as I read about the way he approached my grandmother, and eventually our marriage. It’s so special to read about the way he couldn’t quite believe it when I’d begun to fall for him. It’s an unreal experience, and it makes it hurt so much more to read about the fears he couldn’t shake off after I was taken, the endless nightmares, and the way he couldn’t pull himself out of his head when he woke up, fear reeling him in throughout the day, even when I told him he was breaking my heart. His writing makes it clear he tried his best to control his mind, only to continuously feel like it was failing him. It hurts to read how much he was suffering, and how his nightmares made him unable to look at me without feeling like he was slowly suffocating me, my life draining away because of him. I knew it wasn’t true, that it was all in my head, but I was too scared and ashamed to tell you just how bad things had gotten, because I was just so sure that if I did, I’d lose you forever. I thought I’d get better eventually, and it’d be like things had never changed. Ironic, isn’t it, that it was that exact thought process that led us here? As if that wasn’t bad enough, I’d once again become scared to say the wrong thing and put you at risk like I’d done with Valeria, because that wasn’t just an irrational fear anymore, it was a likely possibility, and your life wasn’t something I’d ever risk.

I inhale shakily and try my best not to cry as I continue to read about his struggles, and my grandmother’s funeral, the divorce papers, the way he’d begun to come to my house every day in hopes that we’d work things out, fighting his own fears every single day, until eventually, I find myself reading about today, and the way he felt during the meeting. I’d been trying so hard not to look at him that I couldn’t focus, and I hadn’t even been looking at Graham. I’d been trying to stare at the screen behind him. I think back to the guilt he thought he saw on my face, and I sigh when I realize what happened. His note had reminded me of the day he’d mentioned, when Graham wanted go to a bistro nearby and Xavier’d gotten jealous. I’d been been worried my husband would find out about my dinner plans, and he’d misunderstand, which he did.

I’m oddly scared when I finally get to the last page, not wanting the story to end and unsure what I’ll find. This story… it’s one I was certain would end in the words, ‘and they lived happily ever after’, but instead, you’ll always be the one that got away. The thing is, I should’ve tried harder, should never have given up on the only woman I’ve ever loved… but what else could I do when you’d begun to look at another man the way you used to look at me? Your happiness is all I’ve ever wanted, even if it’s at the cost of mine. You deserve to be happy with the man of your own choosing, and I should never have gotten in your way. My selfishness cost you so much, and there’s nothing I can do to make that right, but this I can do — I’ll let you go, even if it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, even if I’ll regret it for a million years and a day.

I love you, Sierra. Thank you for allowing me to experience real happiness for the first time in my life, even if it didn’t last. I’ll never regret you, Kitten. You will always be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.