Temp

There’s a video at the very bottom.

Recognition hits me in the throat.

That’s my apartment. My dollhouse studio.

When did he record a video inside of it?

I hit play.

It starts with Matthew setting up the phone in the corner of my bookshelf, guilt and conflict written in every line of his face—and my stomach drops to the ground. Oh God.

In the here and now, the office door opens.

Matthew walks in. He’s breathing hard. There is a look of utter relief and elation on his face that would be beautiful at any other time. But not now. Not while I’m watching us make love on the screen of his computer. No sound is coming out, but I can hear every second of it in my head. I’m never letting you go. I’m never, ever, letting you go. Don’t go anywhere. I’ve been lost, baby.

Lies.

There’s only one reason a man secretly records a woman in a vulnerable moment like that. He was gathering blackmail. Which means…he knows my true identity?

He’s known all along?

Matthew has stopped short on the other side of the desk, his handsome face pulling into a frown. “What’s wrong?” A few shades of color leave his complexion as he rounds the desk, swallowing audibly at the vision on the screen. The rear view of him taking my virginity on the easy chair, our bodies straining. Bucking. “No. I can explain,” he wheezes, reaching for me.

I don’t just move out of his reach, I run, tears coursing down my cheeks.

My heart is in my mouth. I’m choking.

“God, I’m nothing more than a pawn to everyone in my life. Aren’t I?” A sob nearly rends me in two. “What…what were you going to do with that video?”

He grips the desk, seemingly for balance, his face white as a ghost. “I thought you were here to steal the evidence that would end me, Kaylee. I thought you were here to dismantle my company on behalf of your father.” He comes toward me slowly, hand outstretched. “But you didn’t. I heard the whole conversation. You chose us. You chose what we have, because it’s real.”

“You heard…” I’m dizzy. He was recording me again? How? It doesn’t matter. It’s obviously true. “If you knew I was Kaylee Hale, why hire me in the first place?”

“The plan was to make an example out of you,” he says, raking a hand through his dark hair. “But I made that plan before I knew you. Before I fucking loved you.”

“What if I’d followed through?”

“Christ. You would have broken me, Kaylee.” His throat muscles strain, his eyes wild. “I couldn’t see beyond that.”

“Make an example out of me?” I ask, his words finally registering. “What were you going t-to do with that video? Send it to my father for some sick, twisted revenge?”

Matthew is in the process of reaching for me again when I ask that question, but it stops him cold. He sways subtly and lowers himself into his chair, looking seasick. “Yes.”

“Oh my God.” I start to cry openly. Shoulders shaking with the force of my sobs, the earth crumbling underneath my feet. “I hate you.”

“Even if you’d sent your father every financial record under the sun, I would have still loved you. You’ve changed me. You’ve turned me into the man I should have been all along. My plans changed along the way, too. I never would have sent him that video of me loving you,” he rasps. “You have to believe me.”

“I don’t. I don’t believe a word you say.” My legs are made of rubber, but I jog toward my desk nonetheless, trying to see through the blur of tears long enough to throw my possessions into my purse. “I hope I never see you again.”

He propels himself out of his desk chair and across the room, face a mask of crazed denial. “Don’t say that. Don’t.” He wraps his arms around me, ignoring my struggles and gathering me close. “I’m going to die without you. I’m already forgetting to breathe with you angry at me. Kaylee, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Let me go.” I twist and kick until I finally put some separation between us. My entire body is punched full of holes. I’m decimated—and I’m taking him with me. “The truth is, Matthew, you haven’t been a good man. If my father is right and you’ve been bleeding people dry and forcing them to sell, maybe you deserve to have your business dismantled.”

For long moments, he says nothing. And then, “You’re right, Kaylee Hale. And you deserve far better than me.”

I want to run to him in the wake of that confession, because love for him still blares inside of me like a siren. We’re connected, despite everything. Our bond is never going to fade, together or not. But somehow I manage to back away, instead of running forward. I back all the way out the door and leave him broken, sinking to the floor without our link to hold him upright. And downstairs, I run into the sunlight knowing I’m never going to be the same.