My Cheating Mate (Emma and Jeremy) novel Chapter 54

Chapter 54

“No.” I cut him off. “Jeremy, you’re responsible for your choices. For the affair, for the lying, for the betrayal. But you’re not responsible for Vanessa hiring assassins and leading a pack assault. Those were her choices. Her crimes.”

“Dr. Chen said something similar. That I can’t take responsibility for her actions, only my own.” He looked at me. “But Emma, my actions created the situation that pushed her to

“Stop.” I was firm now. “Vanessa made her own choices. Yes, you hurt her. Yes, you fed her on. But plenty of people get hurt in relationships and they don’t hire killers. They don’t orchestrate mass murder. That’s on her, not you.”

He nodded slowly, but I could see he didn’t quite believe it. The guilt was too deeply ingrained.

“The council will vote today,” he continued. “If they choose execution, it’ll be carried out within the week. Quick and clean. More mercy than she deserves, honestly.”

“Will you have to be there? At the execution?”

“As future Alpha, yes. I’ll need to witness it.” He looked sick at the thought. “Emma, I know she deserves it. I know she tried to

-someone I knew–die because of decisions I influenced-” kill you. But the idea of watching someone I once-

1

“You didn’t influence her to become a murderer,” I said again, more gently this time. “Jeremy, I understand feeling guilty. You’re drowning in guilt about everything. But this? This specific thing? You didn’t cause this.”

“Maybe if I’d ended things with her sooner. If I’d been

honest about choosing you-

”

“Maybe she still would have snapped. Maybe she would have hired rogues anyway. Maybe she would have found another excuse. ” I finally bridged the gap between us, taking his hand. “You can’t what–if yourself into circles. She made her choices. Now she faces the consequences.”

His hand trembled in mine. “When did you get so wise?”

“Two months of therapy will do that to you.” A small smile. “That and my father’s been giving me pep talks. Telling me I need to stop letting you shoulder all the blame for everything that’s ever gone wrong.”

“Your father is talking to you about me?” Jeremy sounded surprised.

“He wants me to be happy. He’s not thrilled with you, but he’s accepted that I’m choosing to try to work through this.” I paused. “He also said that watching you slowly destroy yourself isn’t punishment–it’s just more trauma for me to process.”

“He’s right.” Jeremy squeezed my hand gently. “I haven’t thought about how my self–destruction affects you. I’ve been so

r focused on my own guilt that I didn’t consider-” He stopped. “That’s selfish too, isn’t it? Even my guilt is selfish.”

“A little bit, yeah.” But I said it gently. “Jeremy, healing isn’t about punishment. It’s about growth. About becoming someone who won’t make the same mistakes.”

“And if I can’t? If I’m too broken to become that person?”

“Then we’ll deal with that when we come to it. But you won’t know unless you actually try. Really try, not just go through the motions while hating yourself.” 1

He was quiet, processing. Then: “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For calling yesterday. For meeting me here. For-“He gestured between us. “For still trying. Even when I look at you with these dead eyes and you have every reason to walk away.”

“I’m trying because I want to,” I said. “Not because I think I have to, or because I feel sorry for you. Because somewhere under all this trauma and pain, I still believe we could be something good. Something real.”

+20 Bonus

“I believe that too,” he whispered. “On my good days. On my bad days, I think I’ve destroyed us too completely to ever fix it.”

“Then we work on having more good days than bad ones.” I glanced at my phone, “You should probably head to your meeting

Don’t want to be late.”

“Right.” He stood reluctantly, clearly not wanting this moment to end. “Emraa? Can we do this again? Coffee, talking, just- being together without the weight of therapy?

“Yeah,” I said, surprising myself with how much I meant it. “I’d like that.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I have training with the young wolves tomorrow. But Friday?”

“Friday works.” A small smile crossed his face–the first genuine smile I’d seen in weeks. “Thank you again. For this. For not giving up.”

After he left, I sat with my coffee and tried to understand what I was feeling.

It wasn’t forgiveness. Not yet. The hurt was still too raw, the anger still too present.

But it was something. A softening, maybe. A willingness to see him as a whole person instead of just the man who’d betrayed me.

He was broken. I was broken. And maybe just maybe we could heal together instead of separately.

Or maybe we’d try and fail and have to walk away.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify