I’m repulsed to see it now. Not by anything Gabe and I did together, but at the idea that our privacy had been compromised. Violated.
The image had to have been taken on Friday. Just a few days ago.
I glance at him, confused. “You said the device stopped working the night of the power outage.”
“This is something different. A hidden camera, obviously concealed in something in your office.”
“Oh, my God.” My stomach lurches. Nausea washes over me, cold and dizzying.
Slashed tires.
Background checks.
Spying devices and hidden cameras.
The shock of hearing all of this presses down on me. But even worse is the fact that neither my brother nor Gabe felt it necessary to discuss it with me.
Especially Gabe.
“How long would you have kept all of this from me? If this morning hadn’t happened, how long would you and my brother have been willing to lie to me, to betray me? You let me make a fool of myself with you.”
“No. Damn it.” His mouth compresses. “It wasn’t like that, Eve.”
I scoff. “I told you things I never told anyone else in my life, not even Andrew. Not my friends. No one. And the whole time, you weren’t being honest with me.”
“I was,” he insists. “About everything but this, I was. I wanted to tell you. I told your brother it wasn’t right to keep you in the dark—”
“But you did. You had a choice, and you made it.”
“Beck’s my friend, Evelyn. He and Nick both.”
“And let’s not forget that Baine International is also your employer,” I reply brittly. “That wonderful promotion and big raise you just received. More money in a year than your father’s made in twenty, right? You couldn’t jeopardize that.”
Something hardens in his eyes. “Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Will it make a difference if I tell you that I love you? Because I do, Evelyn. I love you.”
God, how I want to believe him. I want to run into his arms and never let go.
But my feet stay rooted to the floor. My heart continues to pound heavily, coldly, in my breast. Because today my trust in him was shattered.
I’m not sure how I’ll get it back, no matter how desperately I wish I could.
And while he may have feelings for me, they weren’t enough for him to trust me, either.
If he had, he wouldn’t be standing here breaking my heart.
Emotion jams in my throat, a conflicting storm of regret and pain. It tastes like acid on my tongue, filling my mouth as he stares at me, his expression stoic in my lengthening silence.
When he speaks, his low voice is quiet, toneless. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“Yes, Gabe. I think I need to say goodbye.”
A stillness washes over him.
I want him to fight for me. As unfair and selfish as it is, dammit, I am waiting for him to fight. But he only stares at me for a long moment, a look of resignation in his eyes.
