Chapter forty

The cafe doors burst open with a bang, sending a fresh wave of chaos through the already tumultuous scene. But amidst the shouts and the clatter of breaking glass, Keo's eyes locked on a familiar figure striding towards him. It was Sarah, his best friend, her face etched with a mixture of concern and fury. She had just parked her cherry-red Mercedes SL550, frustration at finding no parking space forgotten as she witnessed the aftermath of the fight.

Keo, finally free from the construction workers' grasp, was a whirlwind of uncontrolled rage. He kicked over a chair, sending it crashing against a table, oblivious to the startled gasps of the remaining patrons. Sarah, ignoring the destruction around her, reached him in a few powerful strides and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

"Keo! Stop it!" she screamed, her voice a desperate plea cutting through the din. "It's okay, I'm here! Calm down!"

The sudden contact, the familiar warmth of Sarah's embrace, seemed to break through Keo's rage. He stilled, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. Slowly, he turned his head, his eyes red-rimmed and wild with a mix of anger and confusion.

"Sarah?" he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, it's me," she said, her voice firm yet laced with concern. "What happened here? Why are you…?" Her gaze flicked around the wrecked cafe, taking in the overturned furniture and the shards of broken glass scattered on the floor.

Shame washed over Keo. He looked down at his trembling hands, finally seeing the destruction he'd caused. The memory of Belle's tear-streaked face, the accusation in her eyes, hit him like a physical blow. He mumbled an incoherent explanation, a jumble of words about the publisher, the fight, the accident.

Sarah, sensing his remorse, tightened her hold on him. "Let's get out of here," she said, her voice low and soothing. "We can talk about it later, in a calmer place."

She steered him towards the cafe exit, his head hanging low in defeat. As they passed by the bewildered construction workers, Sarah offered a curt apology, her voice dripping with a quiet fierceness that left no room for argument.

Reaching her car, Sarah helped Keo into the passenger seat. The plush leather interior was a stark contrast to the chaos they'd left behind. Once buckled in, Keo buried his face in his hands, the tremors returning to his body.

"I messed up, Sarah," he finally admitted, his voice thick with shame. "Everything…" His voice cracked, and he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Sarah remained silent, letting him absorb the weight of his actions. She knew Keo, knew the loyalty and love that burned bright beneath his temper. This outburst, so unlike him, spoke of a deeper issue, a fear he was struggling to articulate.

As she pulled away from the cafe, leaving behind the whispers and stares, Sarah knew their journey was far from over. The road to redemption wouldn't be easy, but with a determined glint in her eye, she vowed to help him navigate it. He may have lost his chance with Belle today, but there was still hope, a chance to mend the broken pieces, not just of the cafe, but of himself.

The Bentley glided to a smooth stop in front of Olivia's quaint, colorful house. Relief washed over Belle as Alexander helped her out of the car. The familiar surroundings felt like a safe haven after the storm she'd just weathered.

"Are you sure you'll be alright here?" Alexander asked, his voice laced with concern as he handed her a small paper bag. "I can wait if you need anything."

Belle offered him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Alexander. You've been a lifesaver. Olivia will take care of me."

Taking a deep breath, she turned towards the house. Stepping onto the porch, she braced herself before knocking. The door swung open, revealing Olivia's surprised face.

"Belle? What are you doing here? And… is that…" Olivia's voice trailed off as her gaze landed on Belle's swollen cheek, a fiery red marring the delicate skin.

"Hey, Olivia," Belle managed, her voice barely a croak. "Can I come in?"

Olivia, her eyes widening in alarm, didn't hesitate. She ushered Belle inside, her concern a palpable force. "Of course, come in! What happened? Did you get mugged?"

Belle sank onto the nearest couch, her body finally succumbing to the shock of the day. As Olivia rushed to the kitchen, the clinking of ice cubes echoing from the room, Belle spilled the story in a jumbled rush.

"The publisher," she stammered, tears welling up in her eyes again. "We were just having coffee, discussing the book, and then Keo… he just barged in and…" Shame choked her voice, the memory of the fight too raw.

Olivia emerged from the kitchen, a cold compress clutched in her hand. Kneeling before Belle, she gently dabbed the ice at the corner of her friend's swollen cheek. Her gaze, however, remained steely.

"And then Keo what?" Olivia pressed, her voice a low rumble that sent shivers down Belle's spine. It wasn't a question; it was a demand for the truth.

Belle flinched, the pain in her face mirroring the emotional turmoil within. "He… he lost it," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "We argued, and then…" Shame choked her voice again.

"He hit you?" Olivia's voice exploded, the question punctuated by a sickening **FLIP** as she slammed the ice pack down on the coffee table. The force of her anger made the picture frames on the wall tremble.

Belle flinched again, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. She didn't need to answer. The red mark on her face was a stark, undeniable truth.

Olivia, her face burning with a righteous fury, stood up, her hands clenched into fists. "That son of a—"

"Olivia, please," Belle pleaded, her voice trembling. "Don't. It was an accident, he didn't mean to…"

But the fire in Olivia's eyes remained undimmed. "Accident or not," she growled, her voice laced with a dangerous edge, "no one lays a finger on my friend and gets away with it."

Seeing the fierce protectiveness blazing in Olivia's eyes, Belle felt a surge of gratitude wash over her. In this moment of despair, surrounded by the wreckage of her relationship and her dreams, Olivia's unwavering loyalty was a beacon of strength.

The cherry-red Mercedes tore through the night, the city lights blurring into streaks of neon as Sarah pushed the car to its limits. Beside her, Keo sat slumped in the passenger seat, a silent storm brewing behind his clenched jaw. The rage from the cafe had dissipated, replaced by a suffocating sense of shame and regret.

They arrived at Sarah's sprawling mansion, a testament to her family's wealth and her own success as a lawyer. Sarah, ever practical, parked the car and ushered Keo inside without a word. The opulent foyer, usually a source of pride for Sarah, felt hollow to Keo in his current state.

Sarah led him to a massive bathroom, more akin to a private spa than a utilitarian space. The air hung heavy with the scent of lavender and chamomile, a stark contrast to the turmoil within Keo.

"Take a shower," Sarah said, her voice firm yet laced with compassion. "You need to clean up."

Keo nodded numbly, stepping out of his clothes, the evidence of the fight – a ripped shirt and a bruised knuckle – stark reminders of his actions. As the hot water cascaded down, washing away the grime and the sweat, it did little to cleanse the guilt gnawing at him.

When he emerged, wrapped in a plush white towel, Sarah was sitting on the floor beside the bathtub, a glass of amber liquid swirling in her hand. It was whiskey, her usual choice after a particularly grueling day in court. Today, it was offered not as a celebratory drink, but as a solace.

"Tell me what happened," she said, her voice gentle, a stark contrast to the fierce protectiveness she'd displayed earlier.

Keo sat down on the edge of the tub, burying his face in his hands. Shame choked him, the words refusing to come out. Finally, he managed a choked sob, the sound raw and vulnerable.

"It's all my fault, Sarah," he mumbled, his voice thick with despair. "I lost it. I saw Belle with that publisher guy, and I… I just snapped."

Sarah remained silent, letting his words hang heavy in the air. She knew Keo, knew the insecurities that often masked his bravado. This outburst, so unlike him, spoke of a deeper fear, a feeling of inadequacy that had been simmering beneath the surface.

Taking a sip of her drink, Sarah finally spoke. "Did you hear what Belle had to say? About the publisher being interested in her book?"

Keo shook his head, a fresh wave of despair washing over him. "No, I didn't even let her speak. All I saw was… a stranger touching her. And the thought of it…" He trailed off, unable to voice the primal possessiveness that had consumed him.

Sarah set her glass down, her gaze fixed on him. "Keo," she began, her voice firm but laced with understanding. "Love shouldn't be about control. It should be about trust and support. Did you ever stop to think maybe Belle was there to talk business, not… whatever your mind conjured up?"

Keo's silence spoke volumes. Shame burned in his chest, hotter than the water he'd just showered in.

"You messed up, big time," Sarah continued, her voice unwavering. "But the question is, are you willing to make things right? Are you willing to fight for Belle, not against her?"

Keo finally looked up, his eyes filled with a desperate hope. "I… I don't know what to do, Sarah. I don't want to lose her."

Sarah smiled, a hint of steel in her eyes. "Then you need to show her, not just tell her. You need to earn back her trust. It won't be easy, but if you truly love her, it's a fight worth fighting."

As the night deepened, bathed in the soft glow of the bathroom lights, Keo poured out his heart to Sarah. He spoke of his insecurities, his fear of losing Belle to a more successful man, his inability to communicate his feelings healthily. Sarah listened patiently, offering guidance and a much-needed dose of reality.

By the time the first rays of dawn peeked through the bathroom window, a plan – flawed but filled with hope – had begun to take shape. Keo knew he had a long road ahead, but for the first time since the fight, a flicker of determination ignited within him. He wouldn't let his insecurities and his temper cost him the woman he loved. He would fight for Belle, not with violence and possessiveness, but with understanding, respect, and the unwavering support she deserved.