Page 135 of The Revenge Game
“I have to…” I gesture vaguely at the door, already backing away, my feet moving before my brain can catch up.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Andrew
Karma.
That’s the word that enters my head as I watch Belgian hot chocolate seep into the industrial carpet, dark and accusatory. I watch it spread, unable to move, unable to breathe.
Karma was supposed to be satisfying.
Instead, it’s watching the best thing that’s ever happened to me realize I’m the worst thing that ever happened to him.
I’ve seen a thousand different expressions cross Justin’s face over these past months. Joy, desire, vulnerability.
But this one? This was entirely new.
His features seemed to collapse inward, like a building whose foundation had just crumbled.
The worst part wasn’t his shock or his anger.
It was the split second where confusion gave way to understanding, and I watched the man I love realize that every kiss, every shared secret, every moment of trust between us had been built on lies.
The sound of his footsteps echoing down the hallway jolts me into action. Because this isn’t how our story ends, with spilled hot chocolate, shattered trust, and all the words I should have said months ago still stuck in my throat.
I’ve spent too long hiding behind masks. It’s time to finally show him my real face, even if it means watching him walk away from it.
“Mate, it sounds like you have some explaining to do,” Xander says.
“Thanks, Xander, that’s really helpful right now,” I say as I get to my feet.
I’ve barely taken two steps when Adam materializes in front of me like an overeager system pop-up. He has a weird look on his face.
“Ah…Andrew. Glad to catch you. It appears I may have been…somewhat hasty in my assessment of your technical capabilities.”
It’s probably the closest thing to an apology I’ll ever get from him, and normally, I’d savor this moment. But all I can think about is Justin and how every second I spend here is another second he spends believing our whole relationship was a lie.
“Thanks, Adam. But I really need to?—”
“Of course, of course.” He nods too quickly. “Though perhaps later we could discuss your innovative approach to the marketing department’s authentication protocols?—”
“Sure thing,” I say as I move past him, already halfway down the hallway. My footsteps echo against the industrial carpet like a countdown timer.
When I get to the lobby, it’s empty.
I take out my phone. The Find My Friends app glows accusingly on my screen as an example of another piece of intimacy Justin shared with me without question.
Justin’s marker shows him moving toward the river, so I hurry after him.
My hands shake as I clutch my phone, the screen blurring in and out of focus. My chest feels like someone’s running compression tests on my heart, squeezing tighter with each stepI take. The irony of chasing after the guy I once tried so hard to avoid isn’t lost on me.
There’s the usual lunch crowd flooding out of the glass office buildings. Each person wrapped in their winter coat becomes an obstacle between Justin and me, like the universe is throwing up one final firewall to keep me from him.
Fuck, it’s cold out here. I should have grabbed my coat before leaving the office.
My thin shirt offers no protection against the December wind. My skin pebbles, and I can’t stop shaking, though whether that’s from the cold or something else, I’m not sure.
The River Thames stretches out before me, gray and restless.
