Chapter 3

Bethany pov

The sight of my son—my Jason—alive, with the same eyes I remembered from two years ago, left me reeling.

My mind screamed it was impossible, that this was a trick or an illusion, but I knew what I had seen. I tried to step forward, to call his name again, but Fred was already ushering him away.

“Jason!” My voice broke, barely rising above a whisper.

The world around me felt like it was spinning, pulling me down into a dark void.

I needed to touch him, to feel him, to hear him laugh just one more time.

But Dean’s firm grip anchored me, keeping me upright even as my legs went weak.

“Bethany,” he said in a steady voice, pulling me back toward my car, away from the cemetery.

“No!” I snapped, yanking my arm from his grasp and turning back toward where Fred and Jason had disappeared.

“That’s my son, Dean! He’s alive, he’s right there!”

Dean tightened his hold on my shoulder, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. “Bethany, you need to calm down. We don’t know what’s going on yet.”

I fought against him, the urge to break free and run after them nearly overpowering.

“Let me go!” I screamed, my voice thick with rage and desperation. “That man has my son, and he’s lied to me. He lied to all of us.”

They got into the car hurriedly and rode off.

" Fred! Fred! You bastard! "

A security guard noticed the commotion and walked over. Dean quickly waved him off, giving me a look that held a silent warning: " DON'T CAUSE A SCENE! "

Furious, I turned away, every part of me shaking.

Tears burned my eyes, but I swallowed them back, forcing myself to hold it together as Dean gently guided me to the car.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he murmured softly, opening the door for me.

“We’ll find answers, but not like this.”

The drive to the restaurant was a blur, my mind spinning with a whirlwind of emotions—anger, heartbreak, and disbelief.

The memory of Jason’s face haunted me, his voice replaying over and over in my head. How could Fred do this? How could he let me believe my son was dead? Why didn't Jason run up to me like he always did?

By the time we arrived at the restaurant, I was trembling. I could barely keep it together as we walked inside, the smell of food making my stomach turn.

Dean led me to our seat, ordering a glass of water for me without saying a word.

The silence between us was heavy, filled with unsaid words and questions.

After a long pause, Dean finally spoke. “Bethany… I think I know where Fred might be tonight.”

I looked up at him, my eyes filled with determination. “Then take me there.”

He sighed, pulling a ticket from his pocket and sliding it across the table.

“It’s a private party. Fred’s hosting it at the Grand Luxe Hotel. I wasn’t planning on attending, but… I think you should.”

Without hesitation, I took the ticket, clutching it tightly in my hand. “Thank you, Dean.”

He nodded, a hint of concern in his gaze. “Bethany, promise me you’ll be careful. Whatever you find out tonight, remember that Jason needs you to stay strong.”

I managed a weak smile, though my heart was still pounding with anticipation. “I will.”

-

**Later That Evening - GRAND LUXE HOTEL

I arrived at the Grand Luxe Hotel dressed in a sleek black gown, my hair pinned back, the resolve in my heart stronger than ever.

The grand ballroom was filled with laughter and music, glittering chandeliers casting a soft glow over the elegantly dressed crowd.

But I wasn’t here for the ambiance or the luxury—I was here for answers.

As I scanned the room, I spotted Fred near the bar, laughing and raising his glass with a group of wealthy friends.

Anger surged through me as I watched him, his carefree smile making me sick. *How could he laugh, knowing the pain he’s caused?

Taking a deep breath, I pushed my way through the crowd and approached him, my heart pounding with rage.

“Fred,” I called out, my voice barely containing the venom I felt.

He turned, a look of surprise crossing his face before he regained his composure.

“Bethany,” he greeted with a mocking smile. “What a pleasant surprise.”

I clenched my fists, barely holding myself back. “Where is he?”

Fred feigned innocence, raising an eyebrow. “Who?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about,” I hissed, stepping closer. “I saw him today, Fred. I saw our son.”

His expression darkened, and he took a sip of his drink, dismissing me with a casual wave. “You must be mistaken, Bethany. Jason is gone, remember?”

My voice shook with fury. “Don’t lie to me, Fred. I know what I saw. You let me mourn him for two years—why?”

Fred glanced around, clearly uncomfortable with the attention we were drawing. “Bethany, this isn’t the place for this conversation. Go home.”

“No,” I said firmly, refusing to be brushed off.

“I want the truth, and I want it now.”

With a sigh, he turned away, signaling the bartender for another drink, ignoring me entirely.

I watched as he sipped his drink, acting as if my presence was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

The coldness in his eyes, the complete lack of remorse, made my blood boil.

If he wanted to play games, I could, too. I grabbed a drink from the bar, downing it in one go, hoping the liquid courage would give me the strength I needed.

Ignoring Fred’s smirk, I ordered another, matching him drink for drink.

An hour passed, both of us caught in a silent battle of wills.

I refused to back down, the alcohol numbing my anger but heightening my resolve.

Finally, Fred pushed his glass aside and looked at me, his gaze intense and challenging. “Are you really ready to hear the truth, Bethany?”

“Yes,” I replied without hesitation, my voice steady. “Tell me.”

Instead of answering, he stood, grabbing my hand and leading me away from the crowded ballroom.

My heart raced as we entered a dimly lit hallway, his hand firm around mine. He opened a door to a private suite, guiding me inside.

The room was luxurious, filled with soft lighting and the faint scent of alcohol.

Fred poured himself another drink, taking a long sip before turning to face me. “Bethany… you never could let things go, could you?”

I felt a pang of hurt, but I forced myself to stay calm. “I’m not here for your mind games, Fred. Just tell me the truth.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You want the truth? Fine. I lied to you, Bethany. Jason… he’s alive. He always was. But he’s my son now—not yours.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, the air rushing from my lungs.

I stumbled back, grabbing onto the edge of the bed for support. “How could you… why would you do this?”

Fred shrugged, his expression cold and unfeeling. “Because you were weak, Bethany. Jason deserves better than a mother who can’t keep herself together.”

The hurt turned to rage, and before I knew it, I’d closed the distance between us, slapping him across the face.

He barely flinched, just smirked, clearly enjoying my reaction.

“Get out,” he sneered, but something in his voice wavered, almost as if he was unsure of himself.

The power I felt in that moment, standing up to him, was intoxicating.

I turned to leave, but as I reached the door, I hesitated, glancing back at him.

My eyes locked onto Fred's, my anger and hurt simmering just below the surface. "You lied to me, Fred. You took everything from me."

Fred's expression remained calm, but his voice hinted at a crack in his facade. "I did what I had to do, Bethany. You weren't capable of taking care of Jason."

My hands trembled as my nails dug into my palms. "That's not true. I would have done anything for him."

Fred raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on mine "Would you? Really?"

The air was thick with tension as we stood there, the silence between us heavy with unresolved emotions. My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I refused to look away.

Fred took a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You're still so angry, Bethany. So broken."

My heart raced, my breath catching in my throat. "You have no right to talk to me like that."

Fred's eyes seemed to bore into mine, searching for something. "I have every right. I'm the one who's been taking care of Jason all these years."

The words cut deep, but I stood my ground. "You're not the only one who loves him, Fred."

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the tension palpable. Then, without thinking, I reached out and touched Fred's arm. Maybe it was alcohol doings.

" Why? Why do you hurt me every moment you see me? "

It was a spark of electricity, a fleeting moment of connection. Fred's eyes flickered, his gaze dropping to my hand. I felt a rush of emotions, a mix of anger and sadness and longing.

Without a word, Fred covered my hand with his, his fingers intertwining with mine. It was a gentle touch, but it sent shivers down my spine.

And then, without thinking, Fred leaned in, his lips brushing against mine.

The kiss was soft, tentative, but it ignited a fire within me. Fred's arms wrapped around me, pulling me close as we deepened the kiss.

For a moment, we forgot about the past, forgot about Jason, forgot about everything except the hunger that drove us together.

But as I broke apart, gasping for air, reality crashed back down around me.

My eyes locked onto Fred's, my heart pounding in my chest. What did I just do?

This man, the father of my son, the man who had taken everything from me… and yet, in this moment, he was all I had left.

I returned back to his arms eating ourselves up like we were 17, he got a hold of my blouse and took it off.

His soft kisses were placed on my neck as he whispered funny things in my head. We glanced at each other before falling on the bed.