CHAPTER 124: ANOTHER CHANCE

~LAYLA~

"It’s not a line. It’s the truth."

"The truth," I said with a bitter laugh. "The truth is we don’t even know what’s real anymore. We’ve been playing pretend for so long that I don’t know where the act ends and reality begins."

"Then let me make it clear." He gestured between us. "This is real. What I feel for you, that’s real. And I’m sorry I made you doubt that."

His words hung heavy between us, like the flickering candlelight. The lakeside pavilion was too perfect, the wine too smooth, his presence too overwhelming.

I stared at the lake, watching the sunset reflect on the water, trying to ignore the part of me that desperately wanted to believe him.

He’d said I was the entire point. But how could I trust that? After the contract, after all the lies, after that night he’d pushed me away when I’d been so vulnerable?

My palm still tingled from the slap I’d landed in the cabin, that burst of anger I hadn’t meant to unleash but couldn’t contain.

I sighed, the sound escaping before I could stop it. "No, Axel, I’m sorry. For slapping you. I shouldn’t have..."

"I deserved it," he interrupted gently.

"Maybe. But I just..." I struggled to find the words. "You saying you were scared, that you wanted more... it threw me. I don’t know what to do with this. With you. With us."

He leaned in closer, his eyes gentle yet focused in the warm glow of the candlelight. "I pushed you away that night because I was a coward. Because I thought instead of allowing myself to just feel."

His honesty cracked my defences further, and I couldn’t look away even though everything in me wanted to run.

"You say it’s not a line," I said, my voice cracking despite my attempt to sound steady. "But how do I know? Everything we’ve built is fake. Our marriage certificate, our public story, even the way we met, it’s all constructed."

"It’s not fake anymore," he said softly, eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. "Not for me. Maybe it started that way, but somewhere along the line, it became the most real thing in my life."

I wanted to argue, to push him away again, to protect myself from the inevitable hurt.

But my heart skipped a beat when he looked at me like that. I’d watched him play the perfect husband countless times for the cameras and investors, but this was different. It felt genuine... unfiltered and real.

My fingers tightened around my wine glass, using it to ground myself. "This was supposed to be a deal," I said. "A contract with clear terms. Revenge against our enemies, nothing more. But when you say things like that, when you look at me like that, it feels real. And I don’t know how to handle real. Not with everything else falling apart."

Axel reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine tentatively. "I know everything’s a mess right now. I know we’re drowning in problems. But this..." He gestured between us. "This is real. I know I messed up that night. I know I hurt you. But every vow we made, every moment we’ve shared, it stopped being fake for me weeks ago. Maybe longer. I want you, Layla. Not because of the plan or the revenge or the business. Just you."

His thumb traced slow circles on my knuckles, and this time I didn’t pull away.

"I’m scared too," I admitted, the words barely above a whisper.

Tears pricked at my eyes, threatening to fall. "Of trusting you, of letting myself feel this, of losing myself in something that might not be real. But..." I took a shaky breath. "I feel it too. I always have. Even when I was trying to convince myself it was all pretend."

The admission slipped out, and I watched as his eyes lit up with something that looked dangerously like hope.

"Then let’s stop pretending," he said, his hand tightening around mine. "Just us. No games, no performance. Just... us figuring this out together."

I nodded, not trusting my voice, my heart racing so fast I was surprised he couldn’t hear it.

We weren’t fixed, not by a long shot. The hurt was still there, the trust was still fragile. But we were closer. The walls between us were crumbling, brick by brick.

The waiter brought out our main dishes: grilled salmon with asparagus and a side of rosemary potatoes, interrupting the intense moment we were having. We ate in silence, but the atmosphere felt different; filled with a sense of possibility rather than tension.

"This is really good," I said, needing to fill the silence with something normal.

"It is." He smiled, that real smile that made my stomach flip. "Though I can’t wait for dessert. I’m sure my chocolate chip pancakes would be better than what you intend to have."

Despite everything, I laughed. "Your ego is showing."

"Just being honest." His foot nudged mine under the table, a small gesture that felt monumental.

As we finished dessert, Ellen appeared on the path, practically glowing with enthusiasm. "There you two are! How was dinner?"

"Lovely," Axel said smoothly, his arm sliding around my waist as we stood. "Thank you for arranging such a beautiful setting."

"Oh, it’s our pleasure! I just love seeing couples connect." She beamed at us. "Tomorrow’s couples’ Q&A session will be a blast... deep questions about each other, testing how well you really know your partner. It’s always so revealing!"

She winked and continued down the path to check on another couple, oblivious to the seismic shift that had just occurred between us.

"Q&A session," I muttered as we walked back toward our cabin. "Great. More opportunities to expose how fake we are."

"Or how real we’ve become," Axel countered quietly.

Back in the cabin, the tension returned but it felt different now. Less hostile, more uncertain. The single bed loomed between us like a challenge.

We got ready for bed in silence, both changing in the bathroom separately. When I emerged in sleep shorts and a tank top, he was already under the covers, shirtless, staring at the ceiling.

I climbed in beside him, maintaining a careful distance. The moonlight filtered through the window, casting shadows across his face.

"Layla?" he said after a long moment.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For giving me another chance."

"Don’t make me regret it," I whispered.

"I won’t. I promise."