"I can't," she whispers, the words ripping out of her like they hurt.
I still have one hand curved around her waist, like if I let go, she’ll vanish.
Slowly—painfully—I force my fingers to unclench.
"Karina—"
"This—" she shakes her head, visibly struggling to steady herself, "—this can’t happen.We can’t."
She scrambles to gather her things, her movements jerky and panicked, like staying another second would break her resolve.
"We’ll regroup at the office," she says, still not looking at me."Strictly professional.It’s better that way."
Better for who, I want to ask.
But I don't.
I only nod once, tight and controlled, every muscle in my body straining against the need to reach for her again.
She hesitates at the door, fingers trembling slightly on the handle.
"This can’t happen again," she says without turning around.
"I know," I say.
And it’s the biggest lie I’ve ever told.
Because the truth is already clawing at my chest:
I want her.
I want her so badly it feels like a sickness.
And I know I’m not going to survive pretending otherwise.
The door clicks shut behind her, leaving me alone with the taste of her still on my lips.
And the knowledge that no amount of control or professionalism will ever put her back in the box I need her to stay in.
11
SCOT UNDER THE COLLAR
KARINA
Three days after fleeing Callum's hotel suite, I stand in my bedroom surrounded by the wreckage of what was once a functioning closet.
Dresses drape over every surface like collapsed parachutes.Shoes litter the floor in mismatched pairs.
My bed has disappeared beneath a landscape of rejected outfits.
"I'm calling it," Susanna announces from where she's sprawled across a pile of discarded cardigans."Time of death: 5:42 PM.Cause: fatal indecision."
"Not helping," I mumble, holding a burgundy sheath dress against my body and scowling at my reflection.
It's Tuesday evening—gala night—and I've spent the past hour engaged in what my sisters affectionately call "Karina's Closet Catastrophe”—the special panic that descends whenever I need to look professional-but-not-trying-too-hard.
Except this time, the stakes feel astronomically higher.
