“What can I do to help? You’ve been in there all day. I just want to pitch in.”
“There’s nothing you can do. This is my problem to fix.”
“No, Grant. This affects all of us. We’re a team and—”
“Someone fed him intel, Rae.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. Maybe Samantha? But it can’t be. She didn’t have access anymore.”
“Can he prove there’s a leak?”
“He doesn’t have to, Rae,” he says a little too loudly, but then lowers his voice as he goes on. “He’s brought Dorothy’s investors into it, already convinced them that he’s the better fit for CEO. She’s been on the phone with them all day, and they are not happy.”
Worry clenches my teeth and tightens my throat. I feel sick with it. Grant must feel a million times worse. I stand up from my desk and walk to where he’s hovering on his side of the room. I reach out to touch this man I spent the night with. Whose hands were gentle and sweet and also rough when I wanted it, whose eyes burned into me with so much affection. He was boyish and warm, and the connection we shared was stronger than anything I’ve felt before.
Ever.
He backs up a step.
I blink, sitting with incomprehension for a few seconds before the rejection kicks in.
It hits me hard behind my eyes.
I blink back a painful rush of tears.
It hurts. I can’t describe it, can barely understand how it could be this bad. Breaking up with Brendan was a scraped knee. This is a gaping wound. This is my insides pouring out.
I get out a pathetic little “Are you…?”
“We need to talk.”
Take a breath. “Okay.”
“This was a huge mistake.”
Exhale. Slow. “This?”
“Us.” He sweeps his hand to encompass the office. “All of it.”
For another handful of seconds, I can only stare. My hand goes to my cheek like he’s slapped it.
I turn and look at my desk, the cupboard. I look at all thelittle items I bring in to pep up my life here, and the only desire I can drum up is to swipe it all off my desk. To smash everything. Make it loud. Make it count.
“Rae?”
I look up at him, and there’s worry in his gaze, also pain, both quickly replaced by thatnothinghe’s so good at wearing.
“Yes, Grant?” I force out, sure of only one thing in this moment: If I let out just one drop of this grief inside me, I won’t be able to stem the flow. Keeping it in is the only solution.
“Uh. You okay?”
I smile. “You’re an idiot.”
It’s his turn to blink in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“You’re a fool if you think you can stuff it all away and pretend it never happened.”
