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So far tolerable. Nothing that sets me off.
Yet.
“In the car she didn’t say a word, she just cried. Clearly affected.”
My chest tightens, the reaction visceral, far more than I’m comfortable with. Fuck. It’s been a long time since a feeling hit me like that—the simple image of Thalia crying, breaking down in silence, lodged somewhere it shouldn’t reach so easily.
It unsettles me.
And the fact that it unsettles me this much only makes it worse. What the hell is happening to me? Why do I feel all this?
Why am I sitting here, waiting to hear what rules he broke with her, as if the answer actually matters?
“At home…” he pulls me back, but the pause that follows does nothing to ease the tension building inside me.
“At home, she closed the door behind us and started kissing me.”
For a split second, control slips.
My eyes shut tight, my jaw locking as a raw groan forces its way out of my chest, the image forming instantly despite my resistance.
I do not want that in my head.
“I kissed her back and told her I was there if that’s what she needed…”
Another pause, another rough groan leaves me, closer to a warning than anything else.
My fists curl against the desk, knuckles whitening as I force myself not to react beyond that, not to let this turn into more.
“I said it in an arrogant way, and it snapped her out of whatever trance she was in,” he admits.
I lift an eyebrow, fixing him with a steady unblinking look, saying nothing. Because right now, every instinct in my body is telling me to stand up and hit him.
Which is not acceptable.
And I won’t.
Instead, I open and close a fist on the desk, once, twice, waiting for him to finish.
“Everything stopped there,” he finally says, watching me with attention.
And I know he’s telling the truth. If anything else had happened, Theo would’ve told me. He wouldn’t hide it from me.
The pressure in my body eases, not disappearing entirely but loosening enough for me to breathe properly again.
I lean back in the chair, exhaling through my nose, the relief subtle but undeniable.
“That night we decided our fake relationship was over,” he continues. “She didn’t tell me what upset her so badly at the gala, but I’m sure it was related to you, Ethan.”
“Related to me?” I ask, the surprise real.
“I was at the door on a call when you passed by toward the bathroom. She came after you not five minutes later.”
He doesn’t need to finish the sentence before it hits me.
“Irina,” I say out loud.
Theo exhales sharply, a disapproving sound, understanding exactly what I mean without needing details.