Page 171 of Sexting the Boss

“I think,” she says, stepping back, “you’re used to control. And you can’t handle what you can’t contain.”

“You’re not something to be contained.”

“Then stop acting like I’m yours to command.”

Silence falls between us like a curtain. My breath feels tight in my chest. Her face is flushed, her eyes glossy. God, I missed those eyes. I missed everything.

“You think I wanted this?” I say, voice low. “You think I wanted to stay away? I’ve been losing my mind?—”

“Then you should have called,” she says, barely a whisper. “You should have said something.”

There’s a beat of silence between us. Thick with everything we haven’t said.

“You have no idea what I’ve been through,” I say.

She looks away. “It’s not just you. With everything that has happened, I don’t think I can work here anymore. People are talking about me. And it will get worse when…”

She catches herself.

“When?” I prompt.

She shakes her head. “Never mind, this is the right thing to do.”

“I don’t accept your resignation.”

She trembles. “Don’t do this to me, Damien.”

Her face goes pale.

She blinks hard once, swaying slightly. She stumbles.

“Sasha—” I lunge forward and steady her by the waist.

Her body sags against mine for the briefest moment, warm and terrifyingly light. Her skin is clammy, and I can feel her pulse racing under my fingertips.

“You okay?” I ask.

She nods, barely. “Just dizzy. I haven’t eaten much today.”

I hold her there for a second longer than I should, torn. Everything in me screams to scoop her up and carry her out of here. Take her back to my place. Lock the door. Feed her. Make her safe.

But I already made that choice.

I already stepped back—for her.

I can’t change the rules now just because I’m weak.

Carefully, I ease her upright, letting go one hand at a time like she might shatter. I reach into my inside jacket pocket and pull out a business card.

“Here,” I say. “Roman’s number.”

She frowns at it. “Roman?”

“My head of security. If you ever need anything—anything—you call him.”

She hesitates before taking the card, her fingers grazing mine.

“You’re not going to be the one answering the call?” she asks quietly.

---