more than anything else, because he’d lied to me … and I’d believed him. He’d said we’d both need to take a vow of celibacy until after the divorce. Either he’d only ever intended for that to apply to me, or he’d been unable to last and so he’d sought pleasure elsewhere—like from his sub.
Jealousy speared me so hard it hurt. More, it pierced right through the lies I’d told myself. I wasn’t close to crossing an emotional line with him. I’d already done it. I’d grown to care for this man who’d never feel the same way for me. And he’d played me like a cheap harmonica.
Did he really have so little respect for me? Apparently so. Because he had no qualms with repaying my loyalty to him—a loyalty I didn’t actually owe him, given that the marriage wasn’t real—by sneaking around with other women and making a fool of me.
It was really a good thing he wasn’t in his office or I’d have stormed in there and fucked his shit up. I didn’t want to do this at o-Verve. Others might overhear, and I didn’t fancy sharing with everyone else just how stupid I’d been. It was goddamn embarrassing to think that he’d had me so fooled.
I should have known better than to buy into his bullshit. I’d known he was a master at deception. I’d known he played people well. I’d been dumb to assume he wouldn’t deceive me in such a way. The devil always lied, didn’t he?
I took a few moments to get my shit together, knowing I couldn’t afford to let my anger loose here. I was glad that he wouldn’t be returning to the building until the end of the workday—it meant I had plenty of time to find some semblance of calm.
Ejecting the flash drive, I slipped it into the side pocket of my purse. But the images didn’t leave my thoughts as easily as they left the screen of my computer. They remained at the forefront of my mind all day long as I worked, distracting and taunting me.
Dammit, it shouldn’t pain me this much. But it did. Which was why I held onto my anger so tight I thought it would choke me. It staved off the emotional crash I knew I’d experience later, when I finally let myself really feel the full impact of his betrayal.
There were several times throughout the day when, as weak as it made me, I found myself questioning whether the photos were truly what they seemed. There was no denying that they looked bad or that they were as incriminating as hell, but they didn’t show him fucking the brunette.
Surely if Dane had screwed her, the cameraman would have sent photographic proof of it, because he clearly wanted me to believe Dane was cheating on me. Why only send pictures that hinted at it? Maybe he just liked the idea of me being confused and only able to guess.
Who was the bitch anyway? Dane sure seemed to know her well, and he was comfortable enough in her home to venture up to her bedroom.
If there was anything innocent about his association with her, he wouldn’t have lied that his dinner meetings had ran late on those particular evenings. He would have just said he’d visited a friend—or whatever the hell she was to him. So, no, I wasn’t going to let myself hope that he could explain all this away.
At the end of the workday, my phone beeped just as I switched off my computer. I picked up my cell and swiped my thumb over the screen.
It was a message from Dane: Sam and I are waiting for you outside the main entrance.
I ground my teeth and harshly dumped my cell in my purse. Shit, I needed to keep it together. I didn’t want to have a full-on blowout with him in front of Sam. The conversation needed to be had, but not until we were alone. The thing was, Dane didn’t like to wait. He’d easily sense I was pissed. He read me too well. He’d want answers straight away.
What I really needed was to avoid talking with him throughout the journey. That meant I needed to have something else that required my attention; something that would also distract me and keep me preoccupied.
I paused as an idea came to me. Ashley loved to talk on the phone. She could do it for hours. I could call her as I was leaving o-Verve