I wasn't "being seen" in public with anyone.
Ember was the counterpart to my Lightkeeper role and that was why we were out together.
Not to mention my assistant, and God forbid they ever find out, the woman I was falling for so hard, my knees hurt before I hit the ground.
Besides, what could I say that wouldn't make things worse?
What defense could I offer that wouldn't sound hollow or desperate?
I was lying to everyone about seeing her and the shame consumed me.
Not to mention the feeling of utter failure.
Even in my own mind, I was rationalizing why they were wrong and why I was fine to do what I was doing without guilt.
They were all right.
I was seeing her.
I was dating a woman half my age, and I enjoyed it.
Ember's hand tightened on my arm, and I realized she was trembling worse now as we tried to evade the flashes and shouted questions.
My reputation, my career, my entire life balanced on these angry accusations from a crowd of reporters who only knew bits and pieces of the truth, and I didn't want to lie anymore.
And I just had no idea what to say.
13
EMBER
I sat curled on Nate's leather couch, my knees pulled to my chest, replaying the reporter's words for the hundredth time.
The cruelty had wormed its way under my skin, and no amount of reassurance from Nate had managed to dislodge it.
The man's voice still rang in my ears, dripping with contempt, and I felt the familiar creep of shame threatening to pull me under.
Exhaustion pressed down on me so heavy that keeping my eyes open required effort.
Whether it was the exhaustion of the day or just how badly the emotion of this situation was affecting me, I didn't know, but I had convinced myself it was that and nothing more, even when I knew my period was late.
I just couldn't let myself think that far ahead yet.
My mind couldn't handle the challenge of those suspicions on top of the rumor mill hounding us.
The doorbell rang and Nate got up to answer it.
He'd been hovering over me while sipping a cup of coffee, but his best efforts had failed to pull me out of my funk.
I felt bad for being so grumpy and inconsolable when he was trying so hard to comfort me.
I just didn't know how to snap out of it.
"Food's here," Nate said, setting the bags on the coffee table and unpacking them.
The sweet-savory smell of the curry made my mouth water but my stomach churn.
I watched him for a few seconds as he took out the plastic utensils and paper napkins before eventually caving in to my greater need for nourishment.
