“About what?” I whispered.
“This. Us,” he said, his voice firm, though his eyes looked anguished, and I knew he wasn’t thrilled about the talk either.
I swallowed, even though it hurt. “Are you kidding me?”
“I wish I was,” he said, letting out a sigh. He reached over his desk and placed some pictures in front of me. I squinted to look at them, and gasped when I saw the one of me on Gabe’s bed. It was from the drunken night when that girl had interrupted us. Bitch.
“Nothing happened,” I said, looking at Victor. They were taken before we got together, so I didn’t have to explain myself to him, but I still felt the urge to. “I mean, we made out, but I swear nothing else happened.”
He closed his eyes momentarily and breathed out. When he opened them back up he looked as torn as he did before he took a break to think.
“It’s . . . it doesn’t matter. It’s not about that.”
He paused, reaching out and flipping to another picture. The picture was one of him and me on my balcony. Before I signed my lease. The day I signed my lease. My eyes snapped up to meet his. This was the reason for the we need to talk speech. The sinking feeling threatened to return. It was his biggest fear come to life. We’d been caught and now anything said about him, about us, about this case, would come back and haunt him when the time came for his promotion. His promotion. Dammit.
“Can we make it go away?” I asked, my voice a croak.
“I’m working on it. Trust me, I’m working on it. These,” he said, pointing at the ones of Gabe and me, “will never see the light of day.” He pointed at the ones of us. “These, unfortunately, are already circulating. My guy couldn’t stop them. I’m trying to get to the bottom of it.”
My heart squeezed in my chest.
We’d had our fun.
I kept telling myself that to keep the tears at bay, because despite going through this once before, it felt different this time. It felt personal. It felt . . . wrong. I didn’t feel just a little crushed by this. This felt like a boulder was sitting in my throat, making its way to my heart.
“We can’t see each other anymore,” I whispered, meeting his gaze. “I get it. This was just a fire we needed to put out. And we did that.”
I wiped my nose with the tissue in my hand.
But I didn’t get it. I didn’t get it and I felt the intense urge to cry. I was losing him. I was losing him and there wasn’t anything I could do about it because now there were pictures of us together. Proof of what was happening between us. Things that could rip apart his career and mess up my divorce. I expected to feel something when we ended it. Last time, I’d felt hurt. This was worse.
Annihilated.
I never expected to find a man so soon after Gabe. I hadn’t. I’d set my mind to having fun and working on myself, which I did. But I also hadn’t expected for my life to collide with Victor’s again or to feel so connected to him.
“Nicole, please don’t,” he said, his voice quiet, his eyes pleading. “Don’t belittle this.”
I blinked, trying to stop impending tears. Blinked again when I felt one escape through my lashes. I wiped it quickly.
Don’t belittle this.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, standing from my chair. I took one of the pictures with me and shoved it into my purse. “I know how this goes. I hope you know that even with these pictures, I’ll deny it. You don’t have to worry about me. I would never do anything to jeopardize your job.”
He stood up and reached for my wrist, squeezing. I yanked my arm quickly. I couldn’t bear his touch right now. Not when it hurt this much. His eyes widened, his broad shoulders sagged a bit.
“I’m sorry. Had this happened under different circumstances—”
“Stop apologizing. It’s fine,” I said, interrupting him. “Been there, done that, bought the shirt.”
“That’s not funny, Nicole,” he said, his face serious. I dropped my head, unwilling to look at him anymore.
“I’ve learned to deflect.”
Despite how weak I felt, I started walking toward the door, and he followed, holding me by the shoulders possibly when he saw me sway a little. I tilted my face to look at him, and cursed the stir in my heart when I realized our faces were so close.
“Please don’t touch me,” I whispered.
“I don’t know how to stop,” he whispered back, dropping his forehead to the back of my shoulder.
“You’ll learn.”
I left his office, heard him follow behind me, and when I reached Marcus, I could barely keep my legs moving. I practically threw my arms out for him to catch me. Thank God he did.
“Let’s get you home,” he said, looking over my shoulder.