“Or you really do want to get it off your chest.”
She lowered her chin, and his chest constricted at the almost wistful smile that curled her lips.
“Someone to listen to me.” She huffed out a laugh. “Isn’t that novel?” She gave her head another hard shake. “That was my ex-fiancé’s sister. Seeing her name show up on my phone screen is enough to sour my day. We never got along. Not for lack of trying on my part. But from the day we met she took an instant disliking to me, didn’t think I was good enough for her brother. And she had no issue with letting me know it. So you can imagine how she probably danced naked under a full moon when he broke up with me.” Another caricature of a smile, but this time it was wry. “Which is why she’s the last person who should be calling me. But she did. And it’s about Brad, my ex. He’s in trouble, and they want me to help bail him out.”
“They?” Erik asked.
“Her. His mother. Brad. His staff.” She lifted a shoulder. “When it comes to Brad, it’s never a solo affair.” She shifted backward and leaned against the desk. Her fingers curled around the edge, and he had the impression of someone holding on in the midst of chaos. “A month after our relationship ended, Brad became engaged to another woman. A socialite who’s the daughter of one of his mother’s friends. Now, he could’ve either had a whirlwind romance as I’m sure he tried to spin it or they were already seeing one another while we were together. Call me cynical, but I’m more inclined to believe the latter.”
Yeah, he didn’t even know the prick but that would be his guess, too.
“You know the old saying, ‘if they do it with you, they’ll do it to you’? Well, apparently, a scandal has broken out. He was caught cheating, and his new fiancée broke up with him. Publicly. Which isn’t all that great for the image of a man running for office much less state representative.”
He snorted. “So the other woman was cool with being the side chick but drew a line at him fucking around on her? Makes sense.”
A flicker of amusement flashed in her brown eyes before her lashes lowered.
“At least she got out first. I can’t say the same,” she murmured.
“What is that supposed to mean?” He uncrossed his arms and frowned, stepping toward her.
She didn’t immediately reply. And didn’t look at him. Instead, she studied his boots. He liked them, but there was nothing that damn fascinating about them.
“Camille?” he said, pressing her.
And not because he was nosy and harbored this insatiable curiosity about her. True, that comprised some of it. But more, he looked at a woman who needed to let go of a weight. Or lance a wound.
Yeah, that made him a complete hypocrite. But it didn’t stop him from urging her to talk.
“It means, she may have been the other woman but at least she had enough pride and self-worth to walk away when she’d been disrespected. She didn’t stay and sign up for more. Or allow herself to be tossed to the side like garbage. Say what you want about her, but she valued herself enough not to put up with his bullshit.”
“And you didn’t?”
“No, I didn’t,” she said quietly. Her shoulders rolled back, her chin notching up. But that dark brown gaze remained somewhere south of his.
She refused to meet his eyes, and that knotted his stomach.
“I didn’t leave until he kicked me out,” she added in that same low voice.
“Or maybe, after years with a man you loved, the idea of a future without him scared the shit out of you. Or maybe, after being with this man for five years—since the age of twenty-one when you still had fucking milk on your breath when it comes to experience and living—the thought of losing the world you’d known terrified you. Sometimes the familiar, as toxic as it is, can become more comfortable than the unknown because it’s just that—unknown.
“Or maybe, this asshole so dominated your daily life, that everything you did and thought revolved around him, his needs and desires. Maybe you were schooled to be dependent on him. So do we now punish you for doing what you learned? That’s bullshit. Nothing is black-and-white. And the shades of gray are often so murky and filled with shadows, it wouldn’t just be hypocritical to judge you but harmful as fuck. I’m not one of those people, Camille. And you’re going to have to stop being one, too.”
Finally, she looked at him.
And it required every bit of control he possessed not to bum-rush that desk...and her. The pain in those chocolate depths was enough to tear at him. But the uncertainty brimming there? He couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t bear it.
But she wasn’t his to touch, to comfort. He didn’t own that privilege. And Jeremy hadn’t entrusted his sister to his care for Erik to put his hands on her...
Fuck it.
He crossed the few steps separating them, curled a hand around the nape of her neck and tugged her into his arms. A sweet yet almost painful relief pierced his chest. As if his body recognized she belonged right there...
He squeezed his eyes closed and shut down that treacherous thought. His mother might’ve been the Irish dreamer in his family who believed in fated soul mates and love, but not him. He knew better.
And yet...
Yet, he didn’t let her go.
