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After everything we’d talked about, everything we’d shared, that was what he believed I was capable of doing.

I glanced toward the dresser, where my overnight bag sat beside the clothes I’d brought for Sunday.

“I need to get dressed.”

Hudson looked as though he wanted to say something else. Then he nodded and moved toward the hallway.

“I’ll give you some privacy.”

I waited until he’d stepped out before closing the bedroom door.

For several seconds, I stood beside the bed, still holding my towel in place.

I could hear Hudson moving around in the kitchen. A cupboard opened and closed, followed by the dull sound of something being set on the counter.

Only an hour earlier, we’d been laughing about breakfast.

Now I was trying to keep my hands steady enough to button my blouse.

I dressed in the clean clothes I’d packed, dried my hair as well as I could, and put on my glasses. My hair clip was lying beside the bed, and I secured the longer strands away from my face before gathering my toiletries.

Then I folded my pajamas and placed them in the overnight bag.

There was something terribly sad about packing the things I’d brought with such happy anticipation the night before.

I picked up my bag and opened the bedroom door.

Hudson was standing in the living room when I came out.

His phone lay on the kitchen counter.

He looked toward my bag.

“Are you leaving?”

“Yes.”

“Peyton, I don’t want you driving off upset. I’d rather we talked about this before you go.”

I stopped beside the sofa.

“I’m upset because you’ve accused me of doing something I didn’t do. You haven’t even spoken to Bridget yet, but you’ve already decided I might have encouraged Folio to ignore your wishes.”

Hudson rubbed a hand over his face.

“I’m trying to make sense of what happened. I never wanted my name out there, and now it is. I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with that.”

“I understand how frightening it must be to lose control of your privacy. But you’ve decided that the easiest explanation is me, and that’s what hurts.”

He looked at me for a long moment.

“That’s not fair.”

I almost laughed.

Not because anything was funny, but because I couldn’t imagine a less appropriate thing for him to say.

“No, Hudson. What’s not fair is that you trusted me enough to spend the weekend with me, but the moment something went wrong, you assumed I might have used you.”