I should’ve known better.
And now Victoria knows.
Which means it's only a matter of time before David knows.
I need to tell him first. Need to control the narrative before Victoria twists it into something sordid. She's already poisoned Samantha against me; I can't let her destroy my friendship with David too.
But what do I say?
Hey, David. So, I slept with Emma in Florence. But don't worry, she left the next morning before I got up, so it's all okay.
That'll go over well.
My phone buzzes.
Emma:Are you okay?
The question catches me off guard. I look at the message, trying to figure out why she's asking.
Then I realize—I told her I was here. That I'd give her space but I was here when she was ready. And then I went silent for fifteen minutes.
She noticed.
Me:Yeah. Just… complicated day.
Emma:I know the feeling.
Me:I really do want to talk to you. When you're ready.
Emma:I know. And I want to talk to you too. I just need to figure some things out first.
Me:Take your time. I'm not going anywhere.
Even as I type it, I wonder if it's true. Because Victoria knows about Emma. Which means everything is about to get exponentially more complicated.
My assistant's voice comes through the intercom again. "Mr. Cross, your car is here for the councilman dinner."
I check my watch. Already six-fifteen. Time to put on the performance. Smile and pretend like my entire life isn't unraveling behind the scenes.
"I'll be right down."
I stand, straightening my jacket again, and catch my reflection in the window. I look the same as always. Expensive suit, confident posture, the kind of presence that commands respect in any room.
Inside, I feel like I'm falling apart.
I grab my phone and wallet, heading for the elevator.
As the doors close, I look at Emma's last messages one more time.
She wants to talk to me too.
It's not much. But right now, it feels like everything.
The elevator descends, and I watch the floor numbers tick down.
Returning to ground level.
Returning to reality.
