“They’re vulnerable,” I continued quietly.“So am I.If you disappear on them the way you disappear on me, I couldn’t survive watching their hearts break.”
“I would never intentionally hurt them.”
“You already have,” I whispered.“They asked about you.Over and over.And I had to make up reasons why you weren’t around.”
Something flickered across his face.Guilt.Fracture.
“I won’t do that anymore,” I said firmly.
His brow furrowed.“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want a man who chooses us,” I replied.“Someone who doesn’t run when things get complicated.And if I’m sleeping with my boss, that will never happen.”
Ice settled into his gaze.
“Goodnight, Creed.”
I slid into my car and shut the door.He stood there, hands in his pockets, watching as I pulled out of the garage.
In the rearview mirror, he hadn’t moved.
The drive home was quiet, heavy with everything I refused to say out loud.My chest ached.I missed him already.His presence.His voice.But I wouldn’t let him unravel me again.
As I turned onto my street, my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I let it ring out.
When I pulled into the garage, it lit up again.
Unknown number.
I didn’t answer.
I shut the phone off, locked the door, and armed the alarm.Then I leaned back against the wall, heart pounding.
Something was coming.
And this time, I didn’t know if Creed would be able to save me from it.
* * *
IRETURNED TO WORKon Monday determined to create normalcy—or at least the illusion of it.My heels echoed down the sleek marble floors of the building, the steady rhythm of each step a lifeline I clung to.
Professional.Composed.Untouched.
That’s what I told myself as I stepped into my office.That’s what I had to be.
Creed was back.
I felt him before I saw him—the shift in the air, the subtle charge of his presence.It was like my body had memorized his energy, my skin tuning itself to his frequency without my permission.
I’d made it clear.We were done.But that didn’t stop him from being in my face every day—meetings, hallway run-ins, shared glances across crowded conference rooms.He didn’t push.He didn’t speak.But his presence pressed in on me, reminding me of every stolen breath, every sleepless night, every way he’d left me bleeding.
And the worst part?
I still wanted him.
