his shoulder and giving a quiet whine.
Stef felt a sharp crack in her heart, pain radiating through her, but she pushed it down.
“Stay, Sweetheart,” she said firmly when the dog started to rise.
Sweetheart plunked back down onto the fluffy bed.
Fred whined again.
That pain pulsed.
But she straightened and made her way to the elevator, proud her voice was completely neutral when she spoke. “I can’t believe that I ever thought you were different,” she said, anger drifting in, taking the place of all that hurt. She stopped in front of him, as he still held the elevator doors, despite the warning buzzer inside the cart, telling him to close them. His eyes were chips of ice, but she felt frosted over herself, and merely lifted her chin as she added, “I gave you pieces of myself that I’ve never given anyone. I trusted you. I—”
She broke off, shook her head.
“I loved you,” she said and released a long, slow breath.
Then she pushed back his hand, tugged Fred forward, and they both stepped onto the elevator.
Ben stood there. No. Not Ben. Some stranger who she realized she didn’t know at all.
The doors began to slide closed.
“And if you thought for one second, I could share with you what I shared,” she said, stretching a hand out and stopping them once more. “If you thought I could conquer the demons I held tightly for so long to be with you, then could have turned around and sold your company’s secrets for a quick buck, then you never knew me at all.”
She let go.
The metal panels shut with a soft snick.
The elevator descended.
And then she left.
The first thing she did when she and Fred got into the Lyft she called was delete his texts and messages, block Ben’s number, and set about erasing everything of him from her phone. Until she could almost pretend he didn’t exist.
The next thing she did was wipe her eyes.
Because she was not going to cry.
Not over a man. Not ever again.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ben
He wasn’t a man who drank himself into oblivion.
Or he hadn’t been.
But he’d changed.
Or at least, Stef had changed him.
Guzzling directly from the bottle of whiskey, he shoved himself into the corner between the TV stand and the windows, staring out at the city lights and ignoring Sweetheart when she nosed his side, probably wondering where Fred was. Well, she’d have to get used to being without him. Fred wouldn’t be back, and neither would his owner. Not now. Not ever. He’d trusted Stef, given her everything he had, opened his heart and home and—
You never knew me at all.
Her words had echoed in his ear for the last hours, along with her smell filling his nose, her belongings in his sight.
This dark corner was the only place he’d found peace. Where he couldn’t see her, scent her, remember her.
Except, he had the feeling he would always remember her.
“Fuck,” he whispered, taking another guzzle.
It would be dawn soon, and he wanted to be black out drunk, to not remember, to—
“What the fuck are you doing?”
His head snapped back, cracking against the TV stand, the bottle slipping from his grasp, pouring all over the floor.
But he couldn’t be bothered to pick it up, couldn’t be bothered to do much of anything except ignore Claire as she strode toward him, her footsteps loud on the tile floor.
“Did you bathe in that on purpose?”
He flipped her off but didn’t otherwise answer.
“Where’s Stef?” she asked.
He kept his gaze determinedly on the buildings in the distance.
“Where is Stef?” she repeated stubbornly.
Well, he could be just as stubborn. Doubly so, if necessary. He clenched his teeth together and stared unseeing through the glass.
“What did you do?” She kicked his foot, jarring him away from the window, causing him to jerk his gaze to his. “What the fuck did you do?” she snapped.
“What I had to.” His voice was raspy, hardly distinguishable from a growl.
“What does that mean?”
“Stef sold me out.” He picked up the bottle. “So, I told her to go. I won’t sue her for damages. I can’t stomach that, not when—” He lifted it, sucked down some dredges. “I just can’t.”
“You told her to go?” Claire asked icily. “I thought we’d all decided to wait and see what the investigation yielded.”
He sniffed. “I knew how it would go.” Maybe if he got a straw, he could get the last little bit. “Knew it was the same as before.”
Claire was suddenly in his face, knocking the bottle to the side. “It is