Page 144 of Ten Day Affair
The wet sand shifts under my feet. My heart pounds against my ribs, but it's not from the run anymore. It's from everything boiling over inside me.
My chest rises and falls in sharp bursts. The morning light makes his face too clear, too real. I can see every line of guilt etched around his eyes.
Say it. All of it.
"You bought my hospital like it was a fucking yacht."
The words cut through the salt air between us. Cole's jaw tightens, but he doesn't move.
"You sat on that board knowing what was coming, fucking me and lying, making me believe you were looking at all the angles, acting like you cared about my mom's legacy."
He opens his mouth and starts to form my name, but closes it before any sound comes out.
"I trusted you." My voice cracks, but I push through.
"I know."
"I told you things you knew were sacred. And thewhole time, you were behind the shell company. The vote. Everything."
Cole's shoulders drop. His voice comes out rough, broken. "I didn't expect to meet you. I didn't plan for this, for us."
The laugh that escapes me sounds hollow even to my ears. "There is no us, Cole. There never was. Just a guy who fucked me on the beach while tanking everything important to me behind my back.”
My hands are shaking now. Not exhaustion, but from pure adrenaline flooding my system. Every nerve ending is raw and exposed.
God, why won't he fight back?
I want him to say something, anything, to show me he's full of shit. Instead, he stands there looking wrecked, like I just gutted him the way he's gutting Good Samaritan. That restraint disarms me more than any defense would have. It makes me want to hit him harder.
"You know what the worst part is?" My voice wavers for half a second before I swallow it down.
He puts his hands in his pockets and looks up at me with sad eyes.
"I actually thought you cared. About the hospital. About what it meant. About me."
Cole's face goes white. "Sam?—"
"No." I spin away from him, my feet already moving toward my deck. Away from this conversation. Away from him.
But I can hear him behind me. His footsteps match mine in the sand again.
Don't follow me. Please don't follow me.
Except part of me, the part I hate right now, wants him to. I want him to say something that could possibly make this make sense.
"Sam, please."
I keep walking. Faster now.
"If I don't say this now, I never will."
That stops me. My feet plant in the sand again, but I don't turn around.
"What could you possibly say that would matter?"
The waves keep their steady rhythm. In and out. In and out, like a heartbeat that won't slow down. Behind me, Cole's breathing is uneven, desperate, even.
I can hear him stepping toward me, but I don't turn around.
