Daxton had asked me to come by his place that evening, a quiet night in planned after the tense conversation about Vanessa a few days earlier, something normal to hold onto after all the unease.I got there a little later than I meant to, held up by a client call that ran long, and let myself in with the key he'd given me weeks ago, expecting to find him in the kitchen or on the couch, the way he usually was.I heard voices before I saw anything, low, and one of them wasn't his.I stopped in the hallway, my hand still on the door."You don't mean that," Vanessa was saying, her voice soft in a way I'd never once heard from her, nothing like the cold, clipped professionalism she usually wore like armor. "I've watched you for years, Daxton. I know you better than she does. I know what you actually want, even when you won't say it.""Vanessa, you need to leave.""Just think about it," she said, closer now, and I heard movement, the particular rustle of someone stepping into someone else's
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