The Night Before I Knew Him
"Was your fiancée with you?"
Hermes shakes his head almost immediately, closing the gap between us in one slow step that makes my heart stumble.
"No," he murmurs, his hands finding my face. His palms are warm against my cheeks. "I’m sorry about that. I don’t know you called. My phone—" he shuts his eyes, breathing through his nose, "I can’t remember where I kept it."
I frown, searching his face. Hermes never forgets anything. Not files, or meetings, or even the tiniest details.