Page 35 of Fumbling Forward
“I—” My voice cracks. “How did this—”
“I don’t know. But it’s about to go public. I’ve got our legal team trying to contain it, but someone leaked it toSports Daily. They’re running it in three hours.”
Three hours.
Three hours until my career implodes. Until Carter’s reputation is dragged through the mud. Until everything we tried to keep hidden is splashed across every sports network in the country.
“Mark, I can explain—”
“Save it.” His voice is cold, professional. The warmth I’m used to is completely gone. “Be in my office at seven. Bring Carter. And Olivia? You better have a damn good explanation.”
The line goes dead.
I sit there, phone clutched in my hand, staring at the photo. At the proof of everything I tried so hard to deny.
We were careful.
Except we weren’t. Not careful enough.
My phone buzzes again. A text from Carter.
Carter:I know. Mark called me too. I’m sorry.
Me:Don’t. Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault.
Carter:It’s both our faults. Meet me before we go to Mark’s? I don’t want to face this alone.
I close my eyes, tears burning behind my lids.
Me:My place. 6:30.
Carter:See you then.
I don’t go back to sleep. How can I? Instead, I sit in bed, replaying every moment since that first night at the police station. Every choice. Every risk. Every time I told myself we could keep this professional.
Every time I lied.
By the time six-thirty rolls around, I’ve showered, dressed in my most severe professional suit, and made coffee strong enough to strip paint. The knock on my door comes exactly on time.
Carter stands in the doorway, looking as wrecked as I feel. Dark circles under his eyes. Hair disheveled. T-shirt and jeans thrown on like an afterthought.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
“Hey.”
He steps inside, and the door closes behind him with a finality that makes my chest ache. For a moment, we just look at each other. Then I’m in his arms, and he’s holding me so tight I can barely breathe, and I don’t care.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against my hair.
“Stop saying that.”
“I mean it. This is my fault. I pushed. I should’ve—”
“Carter.” I pull back, looking up at him. “I kissed you first, remember? This is on both of us.”
“But I—”
“No.” My voice is firm. “We both made this choice. We both knew the risks. And we both have to face the consequences.”
