“It has to be now. I can’t spend the next two weeks side by side with you and not wonder what might be between us. I can’t watch you walk out of here a week from Friday and not wonder what the hell I could’ve done, not wonder if I should’ve asked for forgiveness, apologized, or hell, even groveled.”
“You hurt me,” she whispered. “After one night you figured out the most damaging thing you could say to me, and then you said it. I’m not sure we can get over that.”
“Don’t punish me forever for my careless choice of words.”
“I’m not punishing you. I’m protecting myself from the chance you meant everything you said.”
“I didn’t.”
“Some part of you was certainly capable of articulating that you think the night between us was a mistake. I won’t take the risk that that part is far more dominant than you realize.”
“Grace—”
“No. Listen to me.” One hand over the other, she gripped her wrists. “I don’t owe you my history any more than you owe me your future.” The lifetime of verbal abuse had never weighed more than it did in that moment, but she’d be damned if she’d share that with Justin. She didn’t want his sympathy or his pity. “You’re going to have to accept and respect that I have my reasons. That’s not a negotiable factor, so there’s nothing to discuss.”
Pushing himself to sitting, he leaned forward and propped his forearms on his knees. His chin dipped to his chest. “How did we end up here, Grace?”
Silence stretched between them, heavy and somber.
The air conditioner kicked on, the vent’s vibration creating a heavy percussion in the quiet office.
“Justin,” she said at the same time he said, “Grace.”
“You first,” she insisted.
Lifting his face to hers, he gave a short nod. “How about lunch?”
“Lunch?” She glanced at the clock. Her stomach growled the second she realized it was noon. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea that we—”
“It’ll be quick because we have to be here and prepped for our first appointment in an hour and a half.” He stood and offered her a hand.
Grace stood on her own and shrugged into her jacket. “Just lunch.”
Fleeting disappointment shone in his eyes before he locked his reaction down. “Fine. As colleagues.”
Dread and longing wrestled in her chest, bouncing off one lung and then the other with serious prejudice before they went into free fall. They snatched at various emotions on the way down and didn’t stop until they hit the soles of her shoes. “Okay.”
Justin opened the door. “After you.”
Stepping through, her emotions crawled out of her high heels and came to rest behind her belly button. The tension singing through her said those battered feelings were prepared for full-blown, riot-gear-required anarchy. Her eyes watered with a particular emotion she wasn’t willing to openly name.
She feared it might be regret.
8