“I kissed Jacob one fucking time,” he shouts, the sound ripping through the room and punching straight into my chest, “and it is not the same as fucking someone else!”
Every single eye in the room swings to me like I just grew a second head.
I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I’m stuck staring at the floor because if I look up I will see how everyone is looking at me and I can’t handle it. He completely just threw our business out there in a way that I hadn’t expected.
“Jacob?” Sabrina says, her voice suddenly sharp with disbelief, cutting through the chaos like a blade. “You kissed him?!”
Griffin doesn’t even seem to realize what he’s just done. He doesn’t hear her shock, doesn’t clock the way the room has gone dead silent except for the pounding of my own pulse in my ears. He’s still locked on her with eyes wild and a jaw clenched so tight it looks painful.
“Who was it?” he demands again, louder now. “Who did you sleep with?”
The tension is unbearably thick. No one moves. No one speaks. It’s like we’re all waiting for the same inevitable crash, knowing it’s coming but powerless to stop it.
And then…
Like a bomb detonating in slow motion…
Hughie speaks.
“It was Connelly.”
His voice is flat and empty. My gaze snaps to his and my jaw falls open because I never once believed that Hughie would be the one to say it. I mean, sure, I thought about telling him. But I also kind of hoped that Sabrina would. Well, no, I hoped this situation would never come to light but it has…in the worst fucking way.
“It was Connelly,” he repeats, monotone, like he’s reading the weather instead of detonating the entire fucking room.
The words hit all at once.
Griffin’s face drains of color. Terry’s mouth drops open. Mack swears under his breath, sharp and furious. My stomach lurches so hard I have to grab the back of the couch to keep myself upright.
And Sabrina?
She doesn’t deny it.
She just stands there, jaw tight, eyes flashing, like she’s already decided how she’s going to justify this next.
“And you knew?”
Griffin’s voice is soft when he says it, and that somehow makes it worse than if he’d yelled. I expect him to be looking at Hughie because Hughie said it but when I lift my head, his eyes are locked on me.
There’s so much hurt there that it feels physical, like someone cracked my ribs open and reached straight in. Betrayal,confusion, and pain are all of it layered so thick I can barely breathe under the weight of it.
“Griff-” I start, my voice already breaking.
“Did you fucking know?” he yells, and the sound of it snaps through the room like something shattering.
I don’t lie. I don’t even think about lying. There’s no version of this where that helps.
I nod. “Yes.”
He lets out this sharp, humorless scoff and closes his eyes, like the answer is worse than whatever he was imagining. When he opens them again, the distance there is brutal.
“Get out,” he says.
“What? No-” I push forward, panic flooding my chest, “We need to talk.”
“Get the fuck out,” he yells, and this time there’s no confusion in it. Just fury.
I don’t move right away. I can’t. My legs feel locked, like my body hasn’t caught up to what just happened, like if I stay still long enough maybe this will rewind itself and give me a second chance I don’t deserve.
