And now another new emotion—I want to hurt David. I want him dead. For daring to touch the woman that doesn’t belong to him. For attempting to steal what is so very clearly mine. My hands are fists at my side, and I’m imagining the ways I want to punish him, ways that can never equate to the pain I feel inside.

And her…

The betrayal is really hers, but I don’t want to hurt her. I want to pull her into me, into my very soul, so that she can see how I feel about her, see how this rips me up. Tie her to me so completely that she can’t ever be out of my control. This was why I sent David away in the first place. This is why I hold on to her as tightly as I do. This is why I doubt her when she says she means forever. If she can wound me like this now, then how easily will she leave me when it’s warranted?

It’s a fragment of my greatest fear realized—she loves me, but she doesn’t love me enough.

I’m barely aware of when they discover my presence. I hear her say my name. Hear her tell me that it’s not what it looks like.

It doesn’t matter what it looks like. I know exactly what it is—it’s the worst moment of my life so far. And I know it’s only the beginning.

“Maybe we should discuss this in a more private setting,” I manage. She agrees, and painful minutes later, we’re alone in the employee office.

“He kissed me, Hudson. I didn’t kiss him. And when he did, I pushed him away.” The regret of her action is in her face and her voice.

Yet the pain rages on. “Why were you in his arms in the first place?”

“We were dancing. It was a party.”

“You were in his arms, Alayna. In the arms of someone who has made no secret of his feelings for you. What did you think he’d do?” I don’t mean to be this angry. I am fully aware that this is minor in the scheme of ways that I’ve betrayed her.

But it doesn’t change how I feel. My inexperience with this emotion rules how I behave.

“It was innocent,” she insists. “I needed someone. He was here. And you weren’t.” Her expression changes, and her words grow bitter. “Where were you today, anyway? When I needed you?”

I was fucking saving her from Celia, that’s where I was. My own bitterness shows in my words. “What was it you needed, Alayna? Someone to keep you warm?”

She presses her lips together. “That hurts.”

“What I just witnessed hurts.” I sound cruel. It’s not the reunion I wanted. There’s so much we need to be talking about, and we’re stuck on this. Perhaps I’m grasping on to it so I don’t have to say the other words. The ones that will hurt her even more.

She’s equally unkind. “Yeah, I know how it feels.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I do. Let me see if I can explain it. It feels like your gut has been wrenched out of your body. At least that’s what it felt like when Celia told me that you’d been fucking her for most of the time we’ve been together.”

I’m caught off guard by her words. “What?” This is new, and all of a sudden, I’m worried that I’ve missed something. “When did she say that?”

She tells me.

“You saw her today?” Earlier, before I’d boarded my plane, I’d checked my voicemail and discovered a message from Celia. I’d deleted it. It was something about her lawyer and Alayna. Since I’d had no messages from Jordan or Reynold, I’d figured it was another attempt to rile me up over nothing. I ask Alayna about it now.

She explains that she’d snuck away for coffee. That she’d taken her computer. That she’d encountered Celia. David becomes a conversation for later. I’m instantly concerned about this—what Celia did. What Celia said.

I’m tense throughout her recounting of the event, but I try to maintain my temper. It’s especially hard when Alayna admits that she’s the one who approached Celia. After all I’ve done to keep them apart, this is hard to hear. It’s as if Alayna’s working purposefully against me, undermining my attempts to protect our relationship. Of course, she has no idea that she’s doing it.

“Then she said that you were together,” Alayna says finally. “That you were a couple. That you fucked her that night, and it wasn’t the first time, and it wasn’t the last.”

“And you believed her?” It’s a blatant lie, of course. While it’s not the most horrid thing that Celia could say, it’s another straw on the heap of anger I feel toward her.

Alayna straightens proudly. “It pissed me off enough that I punched her.”

“You punched her?”

Alayna stiffens. “You know what? Keep acting like this is an interrogation, and I’m out of here.” Apparently, shock wasn’t the right response.

Honestly, besides shock, I don’t know what I’m feeling at the moment. That’s not true. I do know. I’m mad. Mad at Celia. Mad that Alayna let Celia get to her. Mad that she got herself in a situation where Celia could have hurt her.

But my anger is out of worry. And I don’t want to be mad at Alayna.

I walk the room as I shove my hands through my hair, trying to calm down. When I’m as in control as I think I’ll get, I stop and face her. “I’m sorry if I sound a bit tense, Alayna. I assure you it’s only out of concern for you.”

Finally, I’ve said the right thing. Alayna cools, and I begin to understand the situation that I walked into. She’d done something she knew she shouldn’t. She was scared. She needed me. I wasn’t there. She turned to a friend for comfort. He kissed her. It doesn’t lessen the pain at seeing her wrapped in his arms, but now it’s me that’s to blame. I should have been here. I should have called her before leaving from L.A. I should never have gotten her in this position in the first place—pitted against a woman that is dangerous and unwavering.

I understand Alayna’s worries. Celia might try to press charges, but I have the deal with GlamPlay and Werner Media to hold over her head now. I almost tell Alayna about it. Except the paperwork still needs to be filed in the morning, and I have to be sure everything goes through. So I simply assure her that I will take care of everything.

“Thank you.” Her relief is evident. She believes me. She trusts me in this, and I’m comforted.

She, however, still needs reassuring. “Hudson.” Her voice trembles. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Good for you, actually. She deserves worse.” I’m proud, really. I knew Alayna was stronger than Celia thought she was. It’s fantastic that she’s had the chance to prove it.

But Alayna frowns. “I mean, I’m sorry about David.”

“Oh.” I see them together again in my head—her face pressed against his shoulder. I have to know, so I ask. “Tell me one thing—do you still feel anything for him?”

“No. No, I don’t. Nothing. I’ve told you that before, and I meant it, though I’m sure it doesn’t seem like it seeing me tonight. But the whole time he was holding me, it felt wrong. All I could think about was you. I was missing you, H. Needing you. So much. And I didn’t think about what I was doing. I’m so, so, sor—”

I fly to her, unable to stand the distance between us any longer. I wrap my arms around her and clutch her tight. “I missed you too, precious. Needed you. I was trying to get back here—”

She cuts me off. “And I ruined your surprise. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t care. It hurts, but I’ve hurt you. And as long as you swear that he means nothing—”

“Nothing. I swear with every fiber of my body, it’s only you.” She kisses along my jaw. God, she’s here. She’s mine. And for this moment, I let myself believe that this could be always—the always that I’ve promised her. The always that I want to live with her. Her as caught up with me as I am with her.

Then she asks, “How about you? Do you still feel anything for Celia?”

And the moment is ended.

I remember now that this reunion isn’t supposed to end like this. There’s more to say. More to explain. And this is where I have to begin.

I lean back to meet her eyes. “Alayna…I’ve never felt anything for Celia.”