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"Aiden, please let me explain-"

"I’m not sure if you’re capable of honesty, but I’m willing to give it a shot. How long have you known whose yard this is?"

She flinches but doesn’t look away. Her dark eyes stay on mine as she says, "Since before I applied."

She takes a breath. "The claim came through my office three years ago. I fought it. I took it to my supervisor twice and I lost both times. When they forced me to sign the denial I quit the industry entirely. I’d been thinking about it for a while, but your case pushed me over the edge. They don’t act in good faith, and I couldn’t keep working for them, swindling honest people out of their premiums while looking for loopholes to save the company money. When the job listing came through with your name on it, I knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I took a huge pay cut to be here. Because I wanted to try and help. Fix some of the damage that denial did."

Every word is steady. Every sentence complete. She's been rehearsing this. Carrying it around in her mouth for weeks, ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice. The fact that it sounds this practiced makes it worse, not better.

"You've known from the very beginning, and you let me…" I stop. She doesn’t get the end of that sentence. She doesn’t deserve it. I already gave her too much last night with my hands and my mouth. She never needs to know about the things I thought this morning.

She reads the silence. Her hand comes up to her throat. Touches the mark like it still means something. The claim I was so proud of this morning is nothing but an ugly reminder of her deception now.

"I tried to tell you. Three times. Every time we were either interrupted or you refused to listen-"

Oh, fuck that. “So it’s my fault now?”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying. I just want you to know I have been trying- “

"Trying isn't telling. If you really wanted to you could have. You seem to be very good at getting your way in everything else. I’m sure you could have bulldozed your way through." The words hit exactly as hard as I meant them to.

"Trying is what people say when they want credit for something they didn't do."

Her chin comes up. "I know what it looks like."

"You stood in my yard and shook my hand. You let my mother take you out to lunch and tell you the whole sob story about me rebuilding this yard on my own. You let me take you to the festival and dance with you in front of the whole goddamn town, and every single second of it you knew you were the person who nearly put me under." There’s not a whole lot of quiet left in my voice now.

"Yes."

One word. No defense. No qualifier. Just yes.

"And last night." I hear my own voice, and it sounds like it belongs to someone else. Someone cold and in complete control of their emotions. "Last night you lay in my bed, and you told me everything I asked you to tell me and the one thing I actually needed to hear, you kept to yourself."

Her eyes are bright. She's not crying but she looks like she's one breath away from falling apart. Looking at her face right now is the worst thing I've felt in years, including opening that drawer. It’s too late for grief though. Whatever was growing between us has been decimated by her lies.

"I was going to tell you today." Her voice cracks. "Before anything else happened between us. I wasn’t going to keep deceiving you."

Every caught person in the history of the world has said exactly that.

“I can’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth anymore,” I inform her coldly.

A sob breaks free and two tears start running down her cheeks.

"Please, Aiden. I swear I was going to tell you. When I had to sign that refusal… The reason it hit so much harder is because I already knew who you were. You don’t remember me, but fifteen years ago I fell off the dock here. You pulled me out and told the people laughing at me to go to hell." She swallows. "I was thirteen. You gave me your shirt. You asked me if I could breathe. You won my heart in that moment and I’ve never forgotten you."

I very vaguely remember the incident. A summer kid, skinny, all knees and elbows, coughing up harbor water. Some asshole tourists on the upper dock thought it was hilarious. I don't remember her face. She was a kid. But I remember the fear in her eyes and the way she grabbed the front of my shirt with both fists and wouldn't let go.

"You kept that from me too. Did you think knowing you lied to me about a second thing was going to make things better?”

Pain and regret flash across her face. It’s out of place on those pretty features. Nothing I can do about that though. She brought us here.

"You’re fired. I don’t need you to work out your notice period. I managed without you before, I’ll do it again. You did a decent job in the office, I'll write you the reference you deserve."

The job she’s done on my heart is a whole different matter.

"I don’t want to go. Please don’t send me away."

"We're done here."