“I know.”
“He destroyed my family, and I loved him anyway. What does that make me?”
“Human.” Sam’s voice was gentle. “It makes you human, Gi. You didn’t know.”
“But I should have. I should have seen it. The lies, the evasion, the way he never wanted to talk about his work in detail. All the signs were there and I was too stupid to see them.”
“You weren’t stupid. You were falling in love. Those things look similar sometimes.”
I leaned against him and watched the city move around us, indifferent to my pain. Sometimes that’s all you can do when the person you thought you knew turns out to be the monster you’ve been running from your entire life.
CHAPTER 17
Archer
I stoodin my empty office after she left and couldn’t remember how to move.
The documents were still scattered across my desk where she’d thrown them. Evidence of everything I’d destroyed, everyone I’d hurt—especially the woman I loved most of all. My phone sat beside them, silent and accusing.
I’d sent those documents myself.
Not through some anonymous leak or convenient accident. I’d uploaded them directly to the legal aid clinic’s secure portal, sitting in this same office at two in the morning with my finger hovering over the submit button for twenty minutes.
That day at Mary’s house had been the best day of my life. Waking up with her, pretending to be married like it was the most natural thing in the world. And lying there with her afterward, watching her sleep with complete trust on her face, I’d realized I couldn’t keep lying anymore.
I’d told myself I was going to tell her. Face to face. Over dinner or coffee or just sitting in her apartment where I could explain everything properly. Where I could make herunderstand that I’d been trying to fix things, that I loved her, that I was different now because of her.
But every time I tried to form the words, my throat closed up with fear. Fear of watching her face shift from warmth to horror. Fear of losing her. Fear of becoming exactly what I’d been running from—someone who hurt people and didn’t have the courage to face it.
So instead, I’d taken the coward’s way out. Sent the documents anonymously so she’d discover the truth without me having to say it out loud. Told myself it was better this way, cleaner, that at least she’d have all the evidence instead of just my word.
I’d known exactly what would happen when she found them. Had spent hours waiting for the moment she’d walk through that door with betrayal written across her face.
And still, seeing it had destroyed me completely.
My assistant knocked on the door. “Mr. Devlin? Are you alright? Should I?—”
“Get out.” The words came out flat. “Everyone get out. Close the office for the day. I don’t care about the meetings.”
She left without another word.
I tried calling her immediately. The phone rang five times before going to voicemail. I hung up and called again. Same result. Again. Again. Twenty times over two hours until finally her voicemail box was full and wouldn’t accept any more messages.
I’d left her everything in those messages. Apologies that sounded hollow even to me. Explanations that explained nothing. Begging that made me hate myself more with every word.
None of it mattered. She wasn’t going to answer.
Three days passed like that.
I didn’t sleep. Couldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her face in my office, saw the moment she’d realized who I really was, saw the disgust written across her features when she’d said she couldn’t even look at me.
On the third night, I gave up trying to sleep. Got in my car without thinking about where I was going, just needing to move, to do something other than sit in my apartment destroying myself with memories.
I ended up outside her building in Washington Heights.
I didn’t plan it. Didn’t consciously decide to drive here. But my car knew where she lived, even if my brain was too wrecked to function properly.
I sat in the parking spot across the street for twenty minutes, staring up at her window. Light showed around the edges of her curtains. She was awake too, or had fallen asleep with the lights on.
