Dread.
Yep, that’s what hits me and can be perfectly described.
That voice on the other line, I’ve heard a million times. Iknowthat voice. I’ve been with it every day for two years.
ThatwasBobby.
But…so is the man standing in front of me.
“I didn’t,” Bobby says flatly. “Bobby was always the one fucking around.”
Now we’re referring to ourselves in the third person again?
Rising from the couch, I put a bit of distance between me and the man I’ve only known as Bobby.
I can’t help but study him and try to place the facts with what I know.
Just by standing here, this man is a bit taller than I remember. His green eyes are still lighter…his voice?—
“Whoareyou?” I immediately pose, clutching my fingers together, and feel my cunt throb from how hard he just fucked me minutes ago.
This is a really twisted joke.
Even for Bobby.
I watch him place the sandwich down with ease and zero anxiety. When he straightens and looks back at me, I see it.
I see more…broody male.
I see the sharper jawline. The darker hair. The tanner skin.
No, it’s the lighting in this plane.
“Is this the moment you freak out?”
What.
In.
The.
Fuck?
My lips part, but I can’t organize a sentence to save my life right now. If what he’s implying and following along with is true…I just fucked someone who wasnotmy fiancé.
“Meirna,” he mutters, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks. “Ask me.”
No.
If I ask, that means he answers.
That means…I couldn’t even pick out my own fiancé. That I couldn’t tell.
That I couldn’tfeelit.
Oh, you felt it. You just felt it differently.
I flinch at the memories of the last three days. How Bobby has been different and more desolate. I thought it was the workload. It made sense.
