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Braden does. Arguing with Jules, having to force himself to follow through on his decision, has worn away all care for social niceties. He already tanked his presentation. Pleasantries here are barely going to make a dent. He may as well end this whatever-the-fuck-it-is with Braden today, too. Then he’s leaving it all in Sydney, so things can go back to normal in Canberra. A new normal, maybe a lonely normal—his heart misses Jules’s smile already—but a safe one behind his invisible wall.
He wraps both hands tightly around the handle of his suitcase. ‘I don’t want to get coffee with you. I don’t want to chat with you. I have zero interest in getting back with you in any way.’ Every word rips from him like pulling off a Band-Aid, revealing new shiny skin beneath. Is this what Jules felt when she confessed to him?
‘You hurt me, Braden. You abused my trust and you made me doubt myself and every single relationship since.’
Like his one with Jules. It’s over now because of that doubt.
‘What?’ Braden’s eyebrows draw together. ‘Where is this coming from? You never said anything about this while we were dating.’
‘I shouldn’t have had to.’
Braden rolls her eyes. ‘I’m not a mind-reader, Cameron. We could have talked about this. We still can. Let’s get that coffee.’
His grip tightens on the suitcase. ‘Like you could have asked my permission before you posted photos of me to the company Instagram?’
‘Oh.’ Her eyes widen as she nods slowly. ‘That’s what this is about. I’m sorry for that. Of course I should have asked, gotten your consent, but I assumed—’
‘That’s not what this is about. This is about—It’s about—’ The words lodge in his throat.
She tilts her head in that way and they fly out of his mouth.
‘It’s about you telling your friend my brain was useless at work, but thank god my abs were marketable.’ Acid drips from the words and his body heats like he’s about to turn into a supernova. ‘That I was the guy you had fun with before you found someone to settle down with.’
Braden rocks back on her heels. Pinpricks of colour dot her cheeks and when she speaks, it’s not to apologise. ‘When did you hear that?’
‘At Cable. I was in the meeting room next door when you were having that conversation.’
She crosses her arms over her chest, voice small when she says, ‘You broke up with me the next day. I remember wondering if it was karma.’
Karma? That’s one way of looking at it. ‘We wanted different things, things you never made clear to me, and after I found out I couldn’t look at you without feeling like my chest was being crushed.’
She flinches, but steps in so her knees rest against his suitcase.
‘I didn’t realise.’ There’s true shame in her expression, but it’s too little too late. ‘I honestly thought we were on the same page about what we wanted. I’m sorry.’
The words hit his chest and bounce off. There’s no place for any of her words to penetrate beyond the wall he had to throw back up to be able to end things with Jules. ‘Bit late for that.’
Face pinched, she stares up at him with eyes he used to find alluring. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you, Cam. You never should have heard that.’
‘No. I shouldn’t have overheard that. You should have told me to my face how you were feeling.’
Like Jules did. His hands go clammy, and a pressure settles on his shoulders.
‘You could have, too.’
Braden’s trying to protect herself, shift some blame to him for eavesdropping. The total opposite of what Jules did earlier. Confess immediately to what Matteo had told her, then fucking rip her chest open and show her heart to him.
Fuck. He accused her of being like Braden but she did the one thing he’d been angry that Braden hadn’t.
He shouldn’t be comparing Braden and Jules. It’s crass. They’re two entirely different people, and—
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
It’s what Carrie and Chloe and Matteo have been saying all along.
