Kitty’s words are echoing in my head hours later as I pace the penthouse. Not that they’re doing any good, although I am trying. Don’t assume the worst. The statement loops in my brain. Then it makes me want to go insane as I look out the windows and see darkness—a black sky broken up by the twinkling of city lights.
It's late, to the point where I'm paranoid about looking at the clock. I roll my eyes and scoff. “Don't assume the worst,” I mutter, all of Kitty's influence long gone. How can I not assume the worst?
In fact, the worst is all that remains when the door finally clicks open, and Brexton walks in.
Something about the sight makes my heart drop. For being in meetings, he looks… tousled. His tie loose and crooked, his vest removed, and his silk shirt rumpled. Even his hair looks wrong, a few inky springs sticking out of place. The exact look we have after a tryst in his office before he puts himself back together. I suck in a sick breath at the plight.
The sound makes his head raise in surprise, and his eyes widen. “I thought you'd be asleep.”
My head shake is as stiff as my reply. “I waited for you.”
“You shouldn't have.” He smooths over the sides of his hair, fixing disheveled strands in the process. “I told you I'd be working late.”
My brow arches as he walks toward me. “You never said how late, and I haven’t seen you much this week.”
“I know.” A full view of his rumpled shirt comes into play while he shrugs out of his coat. It's worse than I thought. To the point where Grant will have it sent to be cleaned and pressed. “Alan's a tyrant when it comes to new prospects.”
“Hmm.” I cross my arms. “Is he your boss or your business partner?”
A quizzical look tells me the question strikes him odd, but it never echoes in his voice. “Depending on what the project is, we switch around. Sometimes he orders me around and me him.” He tilts his head. “You know this.”
“Sure do.” My gaze hardens, and I tilt my head back. “And your suit?” I wave one finger in the air, gesturing at his torso.
He glances at it, looks at me and nods. “Yeah. It was a long day.”
A chilly, tense stillness hangs heavy in the air as we stare at each other. It shoots through my bones, and my limbs go stiff. I have no idea what to say. Accusing him of cheating is something I can't bring myself to do, so I stand here. Blood raging with hurt, anger, confusion, despair … you name it. An overload of emotion that I numb out, because, with all this extra pressure from Lonnie, I'll crack.
The standoff breaks when Grant removes his tie and breezes past me.
“I'm going to bed. Join me if you want to.”
He crosses the living room and closes the bedroom door before I have a chance to think of anything to say. I freeze on the spot. While I want to, I can't follow him.
I stand out in the living room, an ache pounding in my chest as I fear the worst.
My secret has been too much, and this division I feel is only the beginning. I gulp and try not to cry.
I guess the forever I felt last month wasn’t forever after all.