“Of course.” He forces a weak smile. “Out, Elliot.”
Elliot glares at me.
“Now,” Tristan repeats.
Elliot and Tristan leave the office, and we are left alone. Jameson stands and goes to the window, turning his back to me.
Oh God, how do I fix this? “Jay,” I whisper as I walk toward him. “Baby, I didn’t do this . . . you have to believe me. I know how this looks.”
He remains silent.
“He kissed me, and I slapped him, and I had no idea that someone took a photo,” I stammer.
Silence. I see his jaw clench from the side as he stares out over New York.
“Are you at least going to talk to me?” I cry. “Why did you block my access to this floor?”
He turns, angered. “Because I don’t trust you.”
I step back, shocked. “What?”
“You heard me. I don’t trust you. Get out.”
My face falls. “Jameson, I know you’re under a lot of pressure.”
“This has nothing to do with the fucking pressure I’m under!” he screams.
I wither. “You can trust me, I promise you.”
“Where did you tell me you were on Monday night, Emily?” he sneers.
I stare at him through tears. “I was trying to find out information.”
“By lying to me?”
I nod. “I know it sounds like . . .”
“Like I can’t trust you.” He turns his back and lifts his chin skyward in defiance. “I have more to worry about at the moment than dealing with a deceitful girlfriend.”
“Jameson,” I whisper.
“We have nothing to further talk about, Emily . . . get out,” he says calmly.
“No,” I plead. “I’m not leaving. I love you.”
He turns, and his cold eyes hold mine. “Did you practice that speech?”
My heart drops . . . oh, he’s so hurt.
“Jay . . .”
“If you won’t leave . . . I will.” He strides toward the door, and it closes quietly behind him.
I close my eyes in the silence and inhale through my shaking chest.
Did he just end us?
This can’t be happening.