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“Haven’t you missed me too?”

I frown at her. “What is this? You always knew what we are and what we aren’t. Have I ever been unclear about it?”

Layla shakes her head and looks away. The pain in her eyes guts me. She’s a sweet girl, and I hate hurting her, but I can’t ever give her what she wants from me. I’ll never love her. I have no love left to give in this lifetime.

“Is it her? Is it because she’s back?”

Layla grabs my tie and I look at her, my gaze unwavering. “Yes,” I tell her honestly. Even though I know I can’t have Emilia, I can’t stomach the thought of being with someone else when she’s this close. When she sleeps underneath my roof. I can’t do it. “You and I are done, Layla. Hell, we never even were a thing, but whatever it was, it’s done.”

I’ve been meaning to end things with her in person, but I couldn’t be bothered to even meet up with her. I’m glad we’re getting that over with now.

Layla fists my tie and yanks on it before unraveling it. “I heard she has a boyfriend. She seems happy. Are you really going to wreck that happiness? Do you really want to be the other man?”

Her words hurt, like they intended to, but I don’t give her the satisfaction of letting it show. Layla unbuttons my shirt slowly, her eyes on mine. “I guess you can probably convince her to have a little affair while she’s here. She might even appreciate having someone to bang before she goes back home to her boyfriend.”

Her hands run over my chest and I grit my teeth. I grab her wrists and stop her from groping me. “Whatever might be happening between her and me is none of your business, Layla.”

She laughs and pulls her hands out of my grip. “You’ll come running back. You’ve been so stuck on the idea of her. It won’t take you long to realize that you’ve idealized the memory of her. There’s no way the real thing can measure up. You’ll come back to me, with renewed appreciation for what we have. Mark my words.”

She pushes away from me when someone knocks on my door, a smile on her face. “You need to stop living in la la land,” I tell her, just as my office door opens.

Emilia walks in, and she freezes when she sees Layla and me standing together. The expression on her face can only be described as utter devastation, and hope soars within me. The look in her eyes… she definitely still cares, and she’s not happy.

“It looks like I’m interrupting,” she says. “Should I come back later?”

I shake my head and do the buttons of my shirt up carefully. “No. Layla was just leaving.”

Layla grins at me as though she’s well aware that I won’t be able to talk my way out of the impression she just created, and she winks at me before walking out. Fucking hell.

Emilia looks angry as she walks into my office, her eyes lingering on my undone tie. She looks at me like she might actually throw something at my head, and I bite back a smile. She’s jealous, and she’s failing to hide it. It’s not often, but every once in a while, that mask of her cracks, and I enjoy watching it happen. I leave my tie undone and lean back in my seat as Emilia approaches my desk.

“How inclined to believe me would you be if I tell you nothing happened just now?”

She crosses her arms over each other, but all that does is highlight her breasts more. I bite down on my lip and look away.

Emilia looks at me, hurt and disbelief flickering through her eyes, before she forces a neutral expression on her face. “I’m not sure why I should care either way.”

I grin at her. She’s so obviously angry, yet she insists she doesn’t care. For a while I was certain that she was over me, but that can’t be right. She wouldn’t be glaring at me the way she is if she were over me.

“Hmm, if you don’t care, then I guess there’s no point in telling you that I ended things with Layla. Not that there was much to end, anyway.”

I see the small flicker of relief in her eyes and smile to myself. Emilia looks away and clenches her jaw. “So what was that? Break-up sex?” she asks, her voice wavering, as though the mere thought of it hurts.

I take my time studying her. She’s beautiful, and she’s still her. She might be hiding underneath that prim persona she created for herself, but when provoked or hurt, that facade cracks.

“Do you really think she could’ve walked out the way she just did if I’d fucked her on my desk? It seems you forgot what being with me is like. Would you like a reminder?”

Emilia’s eyes are blazing with equal parts outrage and passion. Is she remembering what we used to be like? She’s still the best I’ve ever had, and I pray it’s the same for her.

“And before you ask, or even wonder with that twisted little mind of yours, nothing happened at all. I didn’t even kiss her.”

Emilia looks into my eyes as though she’s trying to figure out whether I’m lying or not. She might be telling herself that she doesn’t care whether I’m with someone else or not, but she does. She fucking does.

Emilia seems satisfied with what she finds in my eyes, because her shoulders relax and she takes a seat in the chair opposite mine.

“I told you I don’t care. Fuck the entire town for all I care,” she says, and I smile to myself.

“Well, at least you aren’t calling it shagging anymore. I’m not even sure I can get it up if you’re calling it that.”

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