Goodbye My Arrogant Ex (Marguerite and Leonard) novel Chapter 88

Benjamin staggered in front of the mother and daughter, the sharp tang of whiskey clinging to him, his eyes glassy with drink. It was obvious he’d had far too much, and the bitterness on his breath filled the room.

“Get out!” Mrs. Taylor’s voice was icy, each word sharpened by years of resentment. “My daughter cut ties with her family for years because of you, and after everything you put her through, you have the nerve to show up here? We haven’t even had the chance to settle accounts with you, and you come crawling to us now. You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that!”

Her glare was pure anger—decades of pain and betrayal burning in her eyes.

“There’s been a misunderstanding,” Benjamin pleaded, voice cracking. “It’s not what you think, I swear. That other woman—she means nothing to me. Marguerite is the only one I care about. Please, I’m begging you, just believe me this once!”

“Enough!” Mrs. Taylor snapped, cutting him off. “Whatever happened between you and that woman is none of our business anymore. Now get out of this house. I never want to see you again, not now, not ever!”

Marguerite, standing just behind her mother, felt nothing but exhaustion and disgust. He clung to her like some persistent parasite, refusing to let go, and now he’d even tracked them down to her family home. The sight of him, desperate and drunk, made her skin crawl.

“Marguerite, please—come back with me, I’m begging you,” Benjamin said, dropping to his knees, desperation etched across his face. “I need you. The company needs you. I’ll sign it all over—every last piece, the whole business, everything—just please don’t leave me.”

He looked up at her, his eyes red-rimmed and pleading. “These past few days have been hell. I can’t live without you. I’m begging you, Marguerite—please.”

Benjamin’s shoulders sagged. “Everything that happened was my fault. Hit me again if it’ll make you feel better. I deserve it. I let Marguerite down, I know I did. I’m so, so sorry.”

He knelt before them, clinging to whatever shred of hope he had left. “If Marguerite would just give me one more chance, I’d do anything—anything she asked.”

His voice was raw, his words desperate. Truth was, his life had been empty for a long time, and he barely remembered how he’d gotten through the days. He never had the courage to come here sober; it was only the alcohol that had finally pushed him through the door.