A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 96: CHAPTER NINETY-SIX

ASHLEY

I didn’t just have a bad day.

I had a hellish week.

It started the moment my eyes landed on Liam at the club. One glance was all it took to pull the rug out from under my sanity. But that wasn’t the end of it—just the beginning of the spiral. He’d shown up again. And again. And then today. His third sudden appearance had sent me teetering over the edge, triggering a rush of panic and memories I wasn’t ready to confront.

That’s why I called Kyle. I needed to feel something that wasn’t fear. I needed grounding. And somehow, that desperate decision ended with the two of us pressed against each other, breathless and raw, our bodies trying to say what our words never could.

Right now, lying here with him, I feel… safe. Whole, even. I hate that I feel this way, but I can’t lie to myself. Being with him—being here—feels like where I’m meant to be.

Liam had been persistent. Obsessively so. After all these years, he came back acting like nothing had changed, like time owed him something. He wanted us back together—as if the damage he caused could be undone with a few apologies. But that’s Liam. He’s always been unstable, always toeing the line between devotion and obsession.

He said a lot of things. Words laced with poison, statements that cut straight through me like a knife dipped in the past. And still, no matter how much he hurts me, there’s a part of him that frightens me. Deeply.

The silence in the room was thick, but not uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that followed exhaustion, like both of us were still catching up to what just happened. I was still lost in thought, my mind tangled with images of Liam and the weight of everything, when Kyle’s voice finally sliced through it all.

“I had a bad day at work,” he said quietly.

His voice pulled me out of my spiral. I blinked, turning slightly to look at him.

“Huh?” The word tumbled from my mouth before I could catch it.

Kyle shifted beside me, propping himself up on one elbow. There was tension in his jaw, the kind he couldn’t hide even when he tried.

I turned my head to look at him. “What happened?”

He exhaled, slow and heavy. “We’ve got users reporting serious malfunctions overnight. Front doors unlocking on their own. Thermostats spiking to ninety degrees at 3 a.m. Cameras turning on without any user input. A few people panicked and called the cops. One even tried to sue us already.”

I sat up slightly, the weight of his words settling like a stone in my stomach.

“Wait—your devices did that?”

He gave a stiff nod, jaw tightening. “Yeah. One of the smart home updates was compromised. We don’t know who did it or how they got in, but it wasn’t an inside job. Someone came at us from the outside—deliberate, calculated. It’s the first time this has ever happened, and it’s already spiraling into a full-blown PR nightmare.”

I stayed quiet, watching him, letting him speak—because I knew this wasn’t just about work. This was about control. About the one thing he’s terrified of losing.

“My father’s name still haunts every board meeting,” he said, voice sharp. “They don’t say it, but I see it in their eyes. Like father, like son. I spent years proving I’m not him. That I wouldn’t let this company crash and burn like he did. But now it’s happening all over again, and I’m—” He stopped, ran a hand through his hair. “I’m fucking tired, Ash.”

He finally looked at me, and in his eyes was something rare—vulnerability. Not the hard, polished version he usually let people see, but something real and raw.

I reached out without thinking, my fingers brushing his forearm, feeling the tight coil of stress just beneath his skin.

“I’m sorry, Kyle,” I said quietly, honestly. “That’s a lot.”

He didn’t move, didn’t speak, but he didn’t pull away either. His jaw clenched again, the way it always did when he was trying not to feel something too deeply.

“You’re not your father,” I added, voice steadier now. “You never were. You built that company from the ground up. You made it work when no one believed you could.”

A bitter laugh escaped him. “And now someone’s tearing it down, one line of code at a time.”

I reached for his hand, gently threading my fingers through his. “Kyle... you will figure it out.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t pull away either.

“You’re the most relentless person I know,” I continued, squeezing his hand softly. “You rebuilt something from nothing. You fought to turn your father’s mess into something real, something solid. This—” I motioned vaguely, “—this won’t be the thing that brings it all down.”

His eyes were still on mine, quiet but stormy, like he was trying to believe me but couldn’t quite.

“You don’t have to be perfect all the time,” I added. “You can be tired. You can be angry. You can fall apart. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

A breath left him—unsteady, like he’d been holding it in for hours.

“You don’t understand,” he muttered. “The second I let go, even for a minute, everything starts to slip.”

“No,” I said firmly. “The second you let go, someone else finally has a chance to step up. You’re not a machine, Kyle. You can’t control everything.”

“I should’ve seen it coming,” he said, voice rough. “I should’ve anticipated it.”

“You’re not a goddamn psychic,” I said with a half-smile, trying to soften the edge of his self-blame. “You’re just one man doing the best he can—and that’s already more than most.”

He stared at me for a moment, then dropped his gaze to our hands, our fingers still interlocked.

“I don’t know why it’s you,” he said quietly. “Why it’s always you I want to talk to when everything goes to hell.”

I paused, the weight of his words settling between us.

“Maybe because you know I’ll never bullshit you,” I said. “And because I knew you before all of this. Before the name, before the empire. I knew the guy who used to crash on my couch in high school and eat my cereal.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“There he is,” I murmured.

He shook his head, exhaling a low breath. “You always knew how to ground me.”

Then, in an unexpected turn, his voice took on a more serious tone.

"Your turn."

I frowned, blinking. "Huh?"

"Your turn to tell me what the hell went wrong today. You’re not leaving me hanging, not after all that talk about grounding me."

I swallowed, the weight of the day pressing back down on me. "I’m not sure you want to hear it," I said, my voice a little quieter now.

He gave me a look—an eyebrow raised, as if daring me to back down. "You’ve already heard about my meltdown today, so it’s only fair."

I hesitated, then sighed, rolling my shoulders back, trying to shake off the tension. Part of me didn't want to tell him. It was easier not to share the mess of my emotions, the vulnerability of letting him see how much Liam still affected me. But I couldn’t avoid it anymore. Not with everything that had been building inside me.

Maybe it's right that I tell him. Maybe telling him was the only thing that would make this whole mess feel real, something I could actually deal with.

"Alright, fine," I said with a deep breath, bracing myself."Liam happened."

And that name was enough to make him stand from the bed.