Page 219 of Say My Name

“I need both of you to know the difference.”

“I do.”

She looks at me next. “I’ll be in the study.”

“Call if you need anything.”

“It’s forty feet away.”

“Forty feet is still a distance.”

Cliff glances between us.

Elena touches my side as she passes. “Try not to interrogate each other. Rachel will be here soon, and I’m not explaining a crime scene to Sophie.”

Her footsteps fade down the hall.

Cliff removes his coat and lays it over the back of a stool. Then he takes Elena’s vacant seat at the island.

The silence stretches, thick with everything he isn’t saying yet. “You should have told me.”

His voice is so controlled it has no temperature, a dead calm that tells me exactly how angry he is.

“I should have.”

“You waited until New York. By then she was gone, you were desperate for the name of her ex, and I had to drag the truth out of both of you.”

“Elena asked me to keep the arrangement private.”

“I’m not asking why you didn’t call me after the first time you slept together. I’m asking why you kept lying after this became a relationship.”

“I told myself I was protecting her privacy. I also knew telling you would force us to admit what was happening, and neither of us wanted to do that.”

“You used her request as cover.”

“Yes.”

Cliff leans forward, resting his forearms on the island. “When you told me, it sounded like you thought I’d be angry because you didn’t ask permission.”

“I never believed Elena needed your permission.”

“Good, because she doesn’t.” His voice hardens. “You should’ve told me as my friend. I trusted you. I trusted both of you, and you sat across from me knowing I had no idea what was happening.”

He’s right. I let years of friendship become another reason to believe the truth could wait. Cliff knew me well enough to see what I felt for Elena before I was willing to name it, and I still withheld the facts that would have shown him what we were risking.

“I excluded you,” I say. “I’m sorry.” The words feel inadequate, but they’re all I have.

His shoulders shift as if he expected an argument and doesn’t know what to do without one.

“You were also her boss.”

“I still am, although I’m recused from decisions involving her employment. Her title, reporting protections, and authority are documented independently.”

“Do you think paperwork erases the problem?”

“No.”

The simple answer seems to land harder than a defense would have. Cliff is silent for a moment.