I wonder what he sees when he looks into my eyes… Fear? Guilt? Maybe both? I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ve told him I’m all in, and the only thing left to do is to prove it.
“Cormac… I…I’m sorry.”
It’s subtle, but I catch the tightening of his jaw, the way his shoulders tense as he refuses to look at me.
“We’re not doing this.”
“I just?—”
“No.” His voice is firm now, final. “If I’m ever ready to talk about anything other than business, I’ll let you know. Until then, we will keep this professional.”
Professional.
Was what we did last night purely business too?
But I can’t bring myself to ask the question weighing heavy on my heart.
I don’t think I could survive the answer.
My eyes burn, but I blink back the tears.
I refuse to cry in front of him. I refuse to give him another reason to see me as weak, manipulative, or untrustworthy.
Cormac gets to his feet and crosses over to the desk.
I keep my eyes down as I fight past the lump in my throat. A drawer slides open and then closed, and then he’s back, sitting across from me once more.
“Text him.”
I look up to see him holding out my phone.
In all of the chaos, I hadn’t even realized he’d taken it, but it makes sense. I just didn’t expect it to feel like such a slap in the face that he doesn’t trust me to use it without him present.
“I said text him, Fiona.”
“N-now?” I take the phone.
I don’t miss the way Cormac purposefully holds it so that our fingers don’t brush against each other.
“Yes.”
My hands feel clumsy as I turn the phone on, and the screen quickly floods with notifications.
His eyes are slits. “Are those from him?”
“It’s just Zoe.” Another pang of guilt hits as I see text after text from her, demanding to know if I’m alive or if I’ve drowned myself in the Hudson, as well as… “Fuck.”
“What?” Cormac demands.
“There are a few missed calls from Lorcan, plus texts.”
“Saying?”
I quickly unlock my phone and open up my messages.
Is the file gone?
Answer me.
