Chapter 6 - THE MAN SHE ALMOST MARRIED
Gavin did what charming men always do when their charm fails privately.
He went public.
Forty-eight hours after the storage room, he sent flowers to Alyssa’s apartment, to her office, and to Mara’s office when the first two were refused.
He left voicemails that sounded devastated.
Alyssa, please. You heard a disgusting joke in the worst possible moment.
It was stress. It was family pressure. I said something unforgivable, but it wasn’t a plan.
Please let me explain before you ruin both our lives.
Then he switched tactics.
He emailed the board chair of Wellman Metrics requesting “clarity” around Alyssa’s emotional state in light of “personal strain” and suggesting the board support her “through the transition she has already discussed privately.”
That email was exactly the mistake Mara needed.
Because now Gavin was attempting to create the narrative in writing.
The board chair forwarded it immediately.
Mara smiled thinly.
“He cannot help himself.”
Alyssa did not smile.
She had spent nearly a year building a life with this man.
Aspen proposal.
Sundays in bed eating bad omelets he tried to cook for her.
A weekend in Charleston where he stood in the rain waiting for her after she stayed late at a fundraising event.
She hated memory now.
Every tender thing had become suspect.
Mara noticed.
“You are trying to decide whether any of it was real,” she said.
Alyssa looked at her.
“Yes.”
Mara sat back.
“That question will eat you alive if you ask it the wrong way.”
“What’s the right way?”
“Assume he liked parts of you. Assume he used all useful parts of you. Both can be true.”
Alyssa stared.
That was the worst answer.
It was also probably the most accurate.
That evening, Gavin came to her building despite being told not to.
The doorman called upstairs.
Alyssa almost refused.
Mara, who happened to be there reviewing document requests, said, “See him. But with witness, security, and recording notice.”
So Gavin came up.
He looked perfect.
That nearly made Alyssa laugh.
Navy coat. Contrite eyes. The face that used to make her body soften now made every muscle tighten.
He held the ring.
“I brought this back.”
Alyssa did not take it.
He set it gently on the coffee table.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she asked.
He looked stricken.
“For everything you heard.”
“No. Be specific.”
He hesitated.
“For talking about you like that.”
“Like what?”
He looked at Mara and security, then back at Alyssa.
“As if you were… financially useful.”
Alyssa almost admired the cowardice of the phrasing.
“Financially useful.”
He tried again.
“I was venting.”
“About what?”
“My mother was talking about Brianna, and I said something ugly.”
“You said my company would be yours after the wedding.”
Gavin’s jaw flexed.
“I was exaggerating.”
Mara finally spoke.
“Do you normally exaggerate by drafting founder-transition letters and creating unauthorized access tokens?”
He looked sharply at her.
And there.
Recognition.
He knew they knew.
Alyssa watched panic flicker behind his eyes for the first time.
It lasted less than a second.
Then he recovered and said, “I think we should continue this through counsel.”
He stood.
At the door, he paused.
“Alyssa, whatever you think, I did love you.”
She looked at him without expression.
“Maybe that’s the saddest part.”
When he left, Mara exhaled.
“He’s scared.”
Alyssa stared at the ring on the table.
“No,” she said.
May you like
“He’s cornered.”
There was a difference.
