Page 10 of Shattered Oaths

I take a silent breath, already tired with this conversation. “I didn’t hear it ringing.”

His responding laugh is dry and full of malice. “Yeah. Must be hard to hear anything when you’re fucking Noah, huh?”

I almost choke on my own saliva at his accusation. He’s made some comments about Noah since the New Year’s Eve party, but this is the first time he has outright accused me of ‘fucking’ him. “What are you talking about, Justin?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Do you think I came down in the last shower?”

I scoff. “No. I think you’ve had too much to drink and sound insane. I’m at my friend’sbaby shower.Grayson isn’t even here, let alone Noah.”

There’s muffled laughing and the distant sound of shoes crunching on gravel, almost as if he’s moving across a parking lot and I can’t bite my tongue fast enough to stop myself asking, “Where are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he sneers sarcastically before hanging up.

“Everything okay?” A voice sounds behind me and I whirl around, finding Savannah standing on the porch. I smile at her and tuck my phone back into my pocket.

“Yeah. I was just letting Justin know what time I’ll be home.”

“Hmm.” Savannah nods thoughtfully and I shift under her all-knowing gaze. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” She asks and I swallow thickly.

“No.” I shake my head, trying to force a sincere smile. The look she gives me tells me that she doesn’t believe me at all, but thankfully she doesn’t press the issue. She just reaches for my hand and squeezes it reassuringly.

“You know where I am if you do.”

CHAPTER 3

BELLA

FEBRUARY

Idouble check my reflection in the interior mirror of my car and dig around in my purse for the lip gloss I threw in there this morning before leaving the house. Gloss secured, I quickly swipe a thin layer across my lips before grabbing theBella’s Caféto-go bag from the passenger seat and climbing out.

Left over snow crunches beneath my boots as I step onto the sidewalk and I pull my coat tighter around me, shielding myself from the chill in the late February air.

The side street is deserted save for the few people assigned to the dreaded lunch run as I approach the three-storey red brick building that houses Thompson Publishing. The planters lining the front of the building that are filled with bright coloured flowers in the warmer months, courtesy of Mrs Stirling and her natter circle, are instead covered in a layer of thick ice.

It’s ironic, really, how from the outside, the building looks warm and inviting yet the rumours that circulate the town tell a story that is anything but.

I push through the glass door, stepping into the reception area, the bag containing Justin’s lunch still clutched in my hand. I do a quick scan of the room for the secretary but come up empty. She’s likely out on her lunch break, so instead of waiting around for someone to walk me back to Justin’s office, I make my own way up the stairs and down the long corridor.

The dark mahogany door with Justin’s name scrawled across the front comes into view and when I realise it’s closed, I instantly regret my decision to surprise him. There’s a very real possibility that he chose to go out for lunch today, or worse, he has a client in there and is in the middle of an important meeting.

I pause in the corridor, gnawing on my lip as I look back and forth between the stairwell and his office. I could turn around and leave, and he would never know I was here. The last thing I want to do right now is upset him again.

Things had been…rocky since New Year’s Eve, but after Liv’s baby shower last month they have been worse. It feels as though I’ve been walking on eggshells at home, waiting for the next thing to get under his skin.

I thought that if I surprised Justin with lunch that it would help us start to repair some of the trust that has been broken. Or at least bring us a little closer.

It was a foolish idea to think that one stupid lunch would have that kind of power.

With a resigned sigh I turn on my heel, the decision to abandon my plan solidifying with that thought.

I take exactly two steps away from the office when a feminine giggle reaches my ears and halts my movements for a second time. My head spins back in the direction of the closed office door and before my brain has even had a chance to catch up, my feet are carrying me toward the sound.

I don’t hesitate to think about my actions before I push through the door without knocking.

The first thing my eyes land on are the back of a long pair of legs, leading up to a barely covered ass as the owner of them leans over the desk in the centre of the room. The second thing I notice, is how closely Justin is standing to said owner of legs. His left hand rests on the small of her back as the pair of them look down at something on the desk. The entire interaction is familiar and intimate, as though this isn’t the first time they’ve been in this exact position.

And nothing about the giggle that falls from her mouth, the same giggle I heard from outside, says that she’s uncomfortable.