Chapter 3 The Collision

"Jovienne."

Just her name. It hung there like a verdict.

He took one step forward. "There you are."

Jovi shrank. The confident, radiant woman I'd known since childhood seemed to disappear into herself. She looked from Vance's impassive face to mine, her eyes wide with a panic I'd never seen. This wasn't a drama she could control. She was looking at two facts she couldn't spin: her husband and her best friend, the wife of her lover emerging from a hotel room together at dawn.

"Vance," she whispered. Her voice broke.

Zane found his voice first. A raw, protective anger tore out of him. He stepped slightly in front of Jovi-a protective gesture of a devoted lover shield her from danger, or anything that could hurt her. It hit me right into my chest.

That had always been his position. Her shield, her protector.

I'd always been the one standing beside him. Not behind him.

"What the hell is this, Nerissa?" His gaze burned into me, ignoring Vance entirely.

Vance answered. Quiet. Calm. Deadly.

"The question, Mr. Sullivan, is what this is." His cold gaze swept the inch of space between Zane and Jovi. "Are you here as her marriage counselor? Or as the lover she'll leave when it gets difficult?"

Zane flinched. "You don't get to talk to her like that."

"And you," Vance said, turning his full attention on Zane, "do not get to question my employee after you were caught with my wife. There's no confusion about who is more at fault here."

Jovi made a small, hurt sound. "Vance, please. Nothing happened with Zane. We were just talking. We fell asleep. It was innocent."

The lie was so weak, so insulting, that a bitter laugh almost escaped me. I saw the same disdain flicker in Vance's eyes, just a second before it was completely gone.

"You're not a convincing liar, Jovienne." He held out his hand, not to take hers, but as a demand. "We're leaving. Now."

Jovi looked at Zane. A silent, desperate message passed between them. I saw Zane's jaw tighten, the conflict in his eyes. the need to protect her fighting with the understanding that he'd lost any right to do so. That we'd lost it.

With a shaky breath, Jovi stepped away from Zane. She walked past Vance's outstretched hand, her head down, looking utterly defeated. She stopped by the elevator, a picture of beautiful misery, defeated by the frost of her cold powerful husband.

Vance gave Zane one last look of pure contempt. Then his eyes shifted to me.

Just for a second, his cold CEO expression changed. I saw something fierce and controlled-and a question. Are you with me?

Then he turned and joined his wife at the elevator. The doors slid open, then closed, and they were gone.

Leaving me alone with my husband in the bright, quiet hallway.

The fight seemed to go out of Zane the moment the elevator left. 

"Nerissa..." he began. His voice was rough.

I thought he would apologize.

Instead-

"What were you doing with him, Nerissa?" His voice was sharp. Accusing. "What am I supposed to think?"

I stared at him. The audacity of it, after what I'd walked in on, was almost laughable.

He stepped closer. "I saw the way he looked at you. I saw you coming out of that hotel room together, both of you in the same clothes as yesterday. What am I supposed to believe?"

"You want to know what happened?" I heard my own voice, empty and hollow. "I went to a bar. I got drunk because I was too broken. I almost got attacked by two strangers. And then he showed up and stopped it. That's it."

Zane's face went through a series of emotions, relief, guilt, then suspicion again. "You expect me to believe that? That he just happened to rescue you? You spent the night in a hotel room with him, Nerissa. Don't tell me nothing happened."

I stared at him, stunned. The fact that he didn't believe me right now burned the guilt and shame I had felt before. I tugged at a smile so strained it hurt worse than crying. 

"That' s right. I should have stopped expecting anything from you long ago."

I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. I was so tired of fighting for a man who had never fought for me.

I turned and left without a second of hesitation. I couldn' t bear to let my tears fall where he stood.

"Nerissa, wait, we are not done!" His footsteps hurried after me.

I pushed into the stark stairwell. The air was cool and smelled of cleaning products. I made it one flight down before my body gave out. I staggered to the wall, my stomach heaving, my forehead pressed against the cool, rough concrete.

Zane, years ago, kneeling on the bathroom floor. Me, sick with the flu. His hand gentle, holding my hair back. His other hand rubbing my back. His voice soft: "I've got you. Just let it go. I've got you."

The care in it. The deep safety of being looked after by the person you loved.

Now my body heaved again, empty, in a dirty hotel stairwell. The sickness wasn't from illness. It was from him. The man who once held my hair back now made me physically ill.

The door above banged open. "Nerissa!"

I pushed myself up, wiping my mouth. I didn't look at him as I went down the rest of the stairs and out into the cold morning. His hand caught my elbow.

"Please. Let me drive you home. Let's talk."

I pulled my arm free. "I'm going to work."

He finally really looked at me. Saw the damage he'd caused. His face fell. "Work? How can you go there? Are you going after... after him?"

I turned back to him slowly. Like I was finally seeing the man he truly was - for the very first time.

So that' s what I was to him. Just an attachment to a man, with no life of my own, no pride that belonged only to me.

"It has nothing to do with him. Because it's my job." 

It struck me all at once how absurd it all was. And the anger I' d bottled up snapped clean through.

"And because unlike this marriage... It still pays me."

It was the truth, and it broke something in him. 

"At least the money I earn is mine. No one can take that from me."

I saw the shock on his face. I' d never spoken to him like this. Not once in all these years.

For five years, I'd built my life around Zane Sullivan.

I'd spent five years trying to be what he wanted.

Always waiting to be chosen.

Always hoping he'd finally see me.

And the truth was, he had chosen. Just not me.

I was done.

"No matter what happens to this marriage" I held his gaze. The words were quiet. Final.

I stepped into the morning crowd without looking back.

"No! Nerissa!"