Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Undeniable Truth

Sleep eluded me that night, memories of dinner playing on endless loop behind my closed eyes. Every glance, every accidental touch, every loaded word replayed itself until I could barely breathe. When my phone buzzed at 3 AM, I wasn't even surprised.

Unknown number: "We need to talk."

My fingers trembled as I typed: "How did you get my number?"

"Company directory. I'm still on the board at Henderson Legal."

Right. Because this situation wasn't complicated enough—he was technically still my former employer. I'd interned at Henderson Legal during law school, before James and I had even met. The irony was almost painful.

"There's nothing to talk about," I wrote back.

Three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again. Finally: "My office. Tomorrow. 2 PM."

I should have said no. Should have blocked his number and pretended none of this had ever happened. Instead, I found myself typing: "Fine."

Sleep definitely wasn't happening now.

The next morning, Victoria's name on my caller ID nearly gave me a heart attack. "Hello?"

"Darling, can we do lunch?" Her tone was casual. Too casual. "The new French place on Fifth?"

My stomach dropped. "Victoria, I—"

"I insist. One hour?"

Refusing would only make her more suspicious. "Okay."

La Maison was exactly the kind of place Victoria Henderson frequented—all crystal chandeliers and white tablecloths. She was already there when I arrived, looking elegant in Chanel and pearls.

"You look tired, dear," she said as I sat down.

"Work's been busy."

"Mmm." She studied me over her menu. "You seemed distracted at dinner last night."

My heart hammered. "Did I?"

"Very." Her blue eyes—so different from Marcus's gray ones—fixed on my face. "Almost as distracted as my husband."

I forced myself to meet her gaze. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"No?" She sipped her water. "I've been married to Marcus for thirty years, Sophia. I know when something's wrong."

The waiter's arrival gave me a moment to compose myself. Victoria ordered for both of us in perfect French, then turned those piercing eyes back to me.

"He's been different since his London trip," she continued. "Distracted. Restless. At first, I thought it was work. But then I saw how he looked at you last night."

"Victoria—"

"And how you looked at him."

Ice slid down my spine. "I think you're misinterpreting—"

"Am I?" She leaned forward. "Because I saw the way you both reacted when your hands touched reaching for the salt. I saw how he couldn't take his eyes off you when you weren't looking. I saw you practically run from the house when he spoke directly to you."

"It's not—" I swallowed hard. "You've got it wrong."

"Have I?" Her voice was soft but sharp. "Then you won't mind if I ask where you went the night of what was supposed to be your wedding?"

The room tilted. "What?"

"Because it's interesting—Marcus was unreachable that night too. His phone went straight to voicemail. He didn't come home until dawn."

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't process that this conversation was actually happening.

"Victoria, please—"

"I'm not a fool, Sophia." She placed her napkin on the table with deliberate care. "Whatever happened between you and my husband, it ends now. For James's sake, if nothing else."

The mention of James was like a bucket of ice water. "Nothing is happening."

"See that it stays that way." She stood, elegant as ever. "I'll take care of the bill. Oh, and Sophia?" Her smile was razor-sharp. "I'd cancel that two o'clock meeting if I were you. Office cameras can be so... indiscreet."

She left me sitting there, hands shaking around my untouched water glass. I pulled out my phone, typing quickly: "Meeting cancelled. Victoria knows."

Marcus's response was immediate: "My car. Behind the restaurant. Now."

I shouldn't have gone. But my legs carried me outside anyway, around to the private parking area where a sleek black Bentley waited. The driver's window rolled down.

"Get in," Marcus said, his voice low and urgent.

I slid into the passenger seat, the familiar scent of his cologne making my head spin. "She knows."

"I heard." His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "How much?"

"She knows about the night of the wedding. She guessed... something happened between us."

He swore under his breath, the rare crack in his composure making my pulse race. "Did you tell her?"

"Of course not!" I turned to face him, a mistake. Even worried, he was devastating up close. "But she's not stupid, Marcus. She saw how we were at dinner."

"I know." His eyes met mine, dark with something that made heat pool in my stomach despite everything. "I couldn't help it. Seeing you there, across the table... knowing what you look like when—"

"Don't." I pressed my hands to my face. "We can't do this."

"Can't we?" His hand found mine, electricity sparking at the contact. "Tell me you haven't thought about that night every day since."

"That was before I knew who you were!"

"And now?" His thumb traced circles on my palm, sending shivers up my arm. "Now that you know, does it change how it felt? How we fit together? How I made you—"

"Stop." But I didn't pull my hand away. Couldn't. "This is insane."

"Is it?" He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. "Or is pretending we can ignore this what's really insane?"

I turned my head—another mistake. His lips were inches from mine, and every cell in my body screamed to close that distance.

A tap on the window made us jump apart.

Victoria stood there, her expression arctic. "I believe this proves my point," she said through the glass. "Don't make me take this to James."

I was out of the car before she finished speaking, my heels clicking against pavement as I fled. Behind me, I heard Marcus call my name.

I didn't look back. Couldn't look back.

But I could still feel his touch burning on my skin.