“Sloane,” he says, taking a step toward me. Worry creases his forehead. He reaches for my arm, but I step back.
If he touches me, I’ll fall apart. And I need to say everything before I fall apart.
“You’re scaring me. Did I do something wrong?”
Damn it—no.
“No. Of course not.”
I take a deep breath. The cold air burns my lungs.
“It’s about Joe.”
Cohen stiffens. His posture shifts—defensive, alert.
“Did he do something to you? Say something?”
“No. It’s about… who he is. And who he is to me.”
I stare at my boots sinking into slushy mud. I can’t look at him. I don’t want to see his expression—I can’t handle it.
“Joe is… he’s my ex. The man I was with until I found out he was cheating on me—with Sarah, and with… a lot of other women.”
I feel Cohen’s silence.
It’s heavy. Dense.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks quietly.
“Because I was ashamed. Because he made me feel stupid. Small. Because seeing him here, with her, happy… made me feel like that inadequate girl again. Like I was never enough for him.”
“Sloane—”
I cut him off immediately. I know what he’s about to do. He’s about to defend me. Say beautiful things. Probably go punch Joe in the face.
But he needs to hear the rest.
“I’m not done,” I say, lifting my gaze. I have to tell him everything. Even the worst part.
“There’s something else. The night we met. At The Aureum.”
I see his pupils contract.
He knows. He’s already connecting the dots.
“That night,” I continue, the words tumbling out fast and painful, “I was there because I’d just found out about them. I was shattered. I wanted— I just wanted to not be myself for one night. I wanted to forget. I wanted to feel desired by someone who didn’t make me feel wrong.”
I stop. I’m breathless.
“And then I saw you.”
Cohen doesn’t move.
It’s like he’s turned to stone.
The wind stirs the branches above us, but he’s completely still. His expression is unreadable. Terrible.
There’s no explosive anger. No fire.
