"September and May," Simon said, his voice thick and quiet. "Your birthstone. And Lily's."
Audrey stared at the stones. The breath left her lungs in a rush.
"Our tenth anniversary is next week, Audrey," Simon continued, refusing to look away from her. The hurt in his eyes was staggering. "I know we said we weren't doing big gifts this year because of the kitchen remodel. But after... after the gala, after the way I made you feel in the car that night... I wanted to give you something that proved you and Lily are the only things that matter to me. I had them custom-set."
He looked down at the receipt, then back up at her.
"I changed my phone passcode because the jeweler texted me mockup photos of the setting last weekend while we were making pancakes, and you almost saw them. I was trying to protect a surprise."
The silence in the kitchen was absolute.
Audrey felt as if the floor had dropped out from beneath her. The equation in her head shattered into a million useless pieces. The algorithm had failed spectacularly.
She wasn't a brilliant researcher uncovering a betrayal. She was a paranoid, untrusting wife who had just accused her exhausted, deeply apologetic husband of buying thousands of dollars of jewelry for a twenty-four-year-old colleague based entirely on the color of a dress.
A wave of guilt so massive it felt physical crashed over her. Tears, hot and fast, suddenly pricked her eyes.
"Simon," she choked out, her hands flying to her mouth. "Oh my god. Simon, I..."
Simon finally closed the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his chest. Audrey buried her face in his shoulder, a sob breaking free. She felt monstrous. She felt toxic.
"It's okay," Simon murmured into her hair, his own voice tight with emotion. He held her like he was drowning and she was the raft. "It's okay. I know I haven't given you a reason to trust me lately. But I'm here. I'm right here."
Audrey clung to him, the gold and emerald bracelet glittering silently on the counter. In that moment, surrounded by his warmth and his forgiveness, she made a quiet, definitive vow to herself. She was going to stop looking for shadows. She was going to delete the "Emily" variable from her mind completely. She was going to trust her husband.
She completely, entirely dropped her guard.
Which meant she was completely, entirely unprepared for the email that would arrive three days later.
Chapter 5
Simon
The walk-in floral cooler at Lumière Events was kept at a brisk thirty-eight degrees, smelling sharply of eucalyptus and cut stems. It was usually Simon’s sanctuary when the bullpen got too loud.
On Wednesday afternoon, three days after he had given Audrey the anniversary bracelet, it became a trap.
Simon was standing in the back corner, checking the inventory tags on a row of white hydrangeas, when the heavy glass door clicked shut, sealing out the hum of the office. He didn't even have to turn around to know who it was. He could smell the sweet, floral perfume that had haunted his nightmares for the last two weeks.
"You've been avoiding me, boss," Emily said softly.
Simon closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. He set his clipboard down on the metal shelving unit and turned to face her. "Emily. I told you, we are keeping things strictly professional. We have no business in here together."
"Are we really doing this?" Emily asked, a slow, confident smile spreading across her lips. She stepped deeper into thecooler, unbothered by the chill. She was wearing a tailored crimson blazer, looking sharp and entirely predatory. "Are we going to play pretend? Because I can see how tense your shoulders are. I see the way you look at me in the morning briefings before you remember you're supposed to be playing the repentant husband."
"I'm not playing anything," Simon said, his voice hard. He took a step sideways, trying to keep distance between them, but the narrow aisle of shelving boxed him in.
Emily closed the gap. She stepped directly into his personal space, her hands reaching out to rest flat against his chest. Even through his shirt, her palms felt burning hot in the freezing air of the cooler.
"You can lie to her," Emily whispered, her voice dropping to that breathless, intimate register she had used at the hotel. She tilted her chin up, her eyes locking onto his. "You can buy her all the diamonds you want to buy off your guilt. But you can't lie to me, Si. I know what you want. I know what you need."
She slid her hands up, her fingers grazing his collarbone, attempting to recreate the exact touch that had unspooled his self-control two weeks ago.
Simon didn't freeze this time. He didn't lean in.
He reached up, clamped his hands firmly around her wrists, and physically pulled her hands off his body. He stepped back, putting a solid two feet of cold air between them.
"Do not touch me," Simon said. His voice was low, deadly, and completely devoid of warmth. "I am not lying to anyone except myself for letting things go as far as they did. It was a mistake, Emily. The biggest, most destructive mistake of my life, and I will never, ever repeat it. My marriage is the only thing that matters to me."
