“Youknew.” The words fell from my lips without effort. “Please, tell me I am wrong. Tell me I am wrong… and I will believe you. Okay?”
More tears began to slip free, my lips quivering as I searched his eyes for any hint of denial.
But he didn’t answer.
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
My hands balled into fists at my sides, trembling. “You pretended not to know… all those nights, all that time—” My voice cracked again, a sob ripping from my throat but I didn’t care. “You knew. And you let me think I was just some random fucking call girl, some—some—S-S—” I choked on my own words, unable to catch my breath.
Ambrose took a step toward me, but I backed up, holding out my hand.
“Harper, I—”
“Was it fun seeing me struggle? Seeing your fucking assistant, so desperate to move on from her cheating ex-fiancé, that she was willing to join a fucking app to sell herself to whatever rich guy willing to pay? It must have been so amusing…”
I could feel the anger rising like a tidal wave, crashing against the dam of my self-control.
I knew he was not the only one at fault.
But I couldn’t stop.
“All those lies, Ambrose. All the things you said to me… you knew. You knew who I was. And you let mefeelthings for you. Let me believe—”
I choked on the words.
Ambrose’s eyes glazed over, his mouth opening and closing as if wanting to speak.
“I—” He reached out like he wanted to touch me, his fists bruised and cut but I flinched, taking another step back.
“Don’t touch me.” The words were harsh, the edge of my anger cutting deep into the fraught silence between us. “Just… just don’t touch me anymore.”
“I love you,” he blurted out, the words hanging between us.
“What?”
“I… love you, Harper.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t youdareput that on me, Ambrose. You can’t tell me you love me when you kept me hidden in your house like a dirty secret. Never meeting anywhere else. Never being seen with me.”
Tears burned down my cheeks.
For a moment, he looked like he wanted to deny it. His hands reflexively opened and closed at his sides, his eyes desperately searching mine.
“And I get it,” I added, voice shaking with bitterness. “I’m a fucking mess. What would people think, right? What would the board of directors say? The tabloids? Fuck, what would PatrickfuckingJames write? Poor,brokenHarper—sleeping with her boss for a few dollars. And Ambrose the boss who fucks his assistant.” I laughed. Empty and gutted by my own breathing. “I am sofuckingstupid!”
And with that, I turned and got into my car, leaving him standing in the parking lot.
And I didn’t stop.
Not when he called after me. Not when my hands shook on the steering wheel. Not even when I nearly missed my exit.
I drove like I was trying to outrun what I felt.
Everything felt as though it were a blur.
Like it wasn’t real.
