I’m not even close.
And I have no idea how to fix this.
My office feels like a crime scene.
I pack my personal items methodically, my photos, favorite coffee mug, the plant that somehow survived my neglect. Each item goes into the box with careful precision, because if I let myself think too hard about what I’m doing, I’ll fall apart.
“Olivia.”
Turning, I find Carter standing in the doorway, and the pain on his face mirrors my own.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say quietly. “Mark’s watching.”
“I don’t care.” He steps inside, closing the door. “This is my fault.”
“It’s not.”
“Yes, it is.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I pushed for this. I convinced you to take the risk. And now you’re paying the price.”
“We both are.”
“But you’re the one who lost your job.”
“I didn’t lose it. I’m on leave.” Even as I say it, I know how hollow it sounds.
Carter crosses to me, taking the box from my hands and setting it on the desk. “We’re going to fix this.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet. But we will.” He cups my face, forcing me to look at him. “I’m not letting you go down for this, Olivia. I won’t.”
“You might not have a choice.”
“Then we’ll fight it together.” His thumb brushes my cheek. “That’s what we do, remember? We face things together.”
Tears burn my eyes. “I’m scared, Carter.”
“Me too.” He pulls me into his arms, and I let myself break down again, crying into his chest while he holds me.
When I finally pull away, I wipe my eyes and take a shaky breath. “I should go.”
“Where?”
“Home. I need to think.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“Carter—”
“Non-negotiable.” His voice is firm. “You’re not going through this alone.”
I want to argue. To protect him from more fallout. But the truth is, I don’t want to be alone right now.
“Okay,” I whisper.
We leave through the back entrance, avoiding the press still camped out front. And as we drive to my apartment, I stare out the window and wonder how everything fell apart so fast.
Last night, I was in his arms, happy and hopeful.
