“I remember,” he said. “I also remember I made the huge mistake of leaving work at home. I’m sure that would have been too tempting for you to resist.”
Elle shook her head. “You’re wrong. I didn’t even see that file or your flash drive. And if I had, I wouldn’t have touched them. I couldn’t stand any more deception. I wanted things to be clean and honest between you and me. You have to believe me. You have to.”
“Why should I believe you now?” he asked. “You spent months deceiving me while you went to bed with me. I’m starting to wonder if the pregnancy wasn’t some part of your plan. If you tied yourself to me with a child, I couldn’t possibly prosecute you. Right?”
Elle lifted her hand to her throat, feeling it close, nearly depriving her of oxygen. She shook her head. “Brock, you can’t possibly think that. Not about our baby. Not about me.”
His gaze dipped to her still-small belly. “I know that when it came to a test of your loyalties, you chose your grandfather.”
“No, I chose my mother,” she cried. “What else could I do? Can you honestly tell me that if your father had been ill and you had been put in the same situation, that you wouldn’t have done the same thing I did?”
“I would never have been in your situation because I would have made sure I was never at someone else’s mercy like that,” he said.
Elle gasped at his words. Somewhere beneath her pain, anger roared to the surface. “Well, how nice for you that you’ve never been vulnerable. How nice that you were born to privilege, educated at only the best schools and eased into a high-profile job.”
“I fought for that job,” Brock said. “My father didn’t give me any passes for my work at Maddox.”
“Like I said, good for you,” she said. “I’ll tell you this much. If I had it to do all over again, I would make the same horrible choice because my mother’s life depended on it. I’m sorry I hurt you because I did fall in love with you. Helplessly, hopelessly. Then the pregnancy took me by surprise.”
He stared at her without an ounce of compassion. “It’s convenient for you to bring up love at this point when you’ve never mentioned it before,” he said. “I’m staying at the apartment tonight. Congratulations on fooling me twice, Elle. Sleep well. It must be nice to be able to lie and sleep as easily as you do.” Then he turned and walked out.
The knot of emotion in her throat threatened to choke her. She wanted to call after him and defend herself, but her voice completely failed. How could he believe she had gone behind his back again?
Because she’d done it before, just as he’d said. For months.
So why should he believe her? What evidence had she given him to believe the contrary? The answer made her so nauseous she dashed to the bathroom and was sick to her stomach. Leaning against the sink, she rinsed her mouth and pressed a cool, wet cloth to her head.
She put herself in Brock’s place. With their history, would she have believed him?
Even though she knew in her heart of hearts that she loved Brock and would never deceive him again, she could see why he wouldn’t believe her. The reality made her eyes burn and her chest hurt as if someone had torn out her heart. A sob bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her and she began to cry huge, wrenching sobs. She cradled her arms around her chest to hold herself together, but she felt as if she were splitting apart.
Of all the things she’d had in her life, she’d lost the most important. The promise, the dream of something different for her and Brock and their baby.
Elle didn’t eat one bite that night. She couldn’t have forced it down her throat. She was in such terrible emotional pain and shock that she didn’t know what to do. Should she leave? Should she stay?
She took a hot, calming shower, dressed in a soft nightshirt and crawled into bed in Brock’s room. She could still smell just a trace of his scent when she closed her eyes. A tidal wave of memories swept over her and she couldn’t stop herself from crying again. She’d thought there wasn’t one more tear she could shed tonight, but she was wrong. Finally, she exhausted herself and fell asleep.
Awakening in the morning with swollen eyes, she immediately remembered everything that had happened the previous night and pulled the sheet over her head. Was there any way she could turn back time and fix everything?
Not unless she was a genie or a witch. Brock seemed bent on believing she was the latter. She pulled back the sheet and gazed out the windows. Another gray, foggy morning in San Francisco. Natives knew the truth about the bay’s climate. Fog, fog and more fog. She slid out of the bed and peeked through the blinds at the gray day.