OLIVIAI'd heard him.Last night, through the office door, I'd heard Ryan's voice… desperate, broken, begging me to just give him five minutes to explain.And I'd sat there on my office couch, frozen, my hand clamped over my mouth to keep from making a sound, tears streaming silently down my face as I listened to the man I loved plead for a chance I couldn't give him.*"I'm not leaving. I'll sit out here all night if I have to."*Part of me, a treacherous, stupid part, had wanted to open that door. Had wanted to hear what excuse he'd come up with, what story he'd tell to explain away the video of him kissing Daisy, touching her, being with her in ways that should have been reserved for me.But I couldn't. Because what explanation could possibly make that okay? What words could erase the image burned into my brain of his hands in her hair, his mouth on hers, his body moving with hers in a rhythm I recognized because we'd moved that way together just hours before?So I'd stayed silent.
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