Page 182 of Sin

“I meant every word,” I say.

“I know.”

The way she says it nearly breaks something in me. Maybe that is why she looks so afraid.

She takes a breath. “I made a decision.”

My body goes still. The entire restaurant seems to fade into silverware and low voices and the dull roar of blood in my ears.

“All right.”

“I’m taking the job at Sex Activity Pro.”

I’ve imagined this moment a hundred times since Wilder saw her at the market. In every version, I am gracious. Supportive. The kind of man who loves her enough to let her choose herself. Knowing the right thing doesn’t make it painless. My chest feels hollowed out.

“Good,” I say.

Her eyes flicker. I force myself to continue before the selfish part of me reaches across the table and begs.

“That’s good, Laurel.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.” My voice is rough. I clear it. “It’s an incredible opportunity.”

“It is.”

“You earned it.”

Her mouth trembles slightly, and she looks away. I curl my hand around my water glass, so I don’t reach for her.

“You deserve a fresh start,” I say. “One that isn’t tied to my name. Or the board. Or what happened.”

“That’s part of it.”

I nod.

“And the money is ridiculous,” she adds.

Despite the ache in my chest, I almost smile. “How ridiculous?”

“Vulgar.”

“Good.”

“Deeply vulgar.”

“Even better.”

Her smile comes and goes. Then she grows serious again.

“I need to be somewhere that belongs to me,” she says quietly. “Somewhere I’m not looking over my shoulder for your office. Somewhere people don’t know which conference rooms we ruined.”

“Fair.”

“I need to know that when I walk into work, I’m there because I chose it. Not because I’m hoping to see you. Not because I’m proving I’m strong enough to stay. Not because I’m punishing myself by leaving.”

I look at her. God, I love her.