Chapter 1
Late night, the girl upstairs dropped a provocative pic on the building’s group chat,
She posed in lace lingerie, wrists bound with a navy–blue tie, seductive and theatrical
I nearly clicked out. I didn’t want to look.
But something stopped me cold.
The tie.
It wasn’t just any tic
It was his tie—the exact Hermès one I’d lmotted around my husband’s neck that same morning
The photo disappeared shortly after.
At three in the morning, I lay sleepless.
Thunder roared outside, rain hammering the windows relentlessly. As the storm raged, faint moans drifted through the ceiling- feminine, breathy, laced with pain and pleasure.
My heart thudded in my chest.
I opened my pinned chat with Brandon.
Two hours earlier, he’d sent me three messages:
[Work’s killing me tonight. I miss you.]
[Are you asleep?]
[Goodnight]
I should’ve believed him, but that tie haunted me relentlessly.
I called him.
He picked up immediately–too immediately.
“Rachel?
His deep, busky voice sent a shiver down my spine.
“… the thunder woke me. Just wanted to hear your voice,”
“Stay on the line, love,” he murmured. “You sleep, I’ll keep working.”
That comforted me a little.
I didn’t want to interrupt his work, so I just told him to take care and ended the call
The next morning, I headed into the kitchen–and froze. Brandon was there, leaning against the counter. I hadn’t heard him come in last night, though he was supposed to stay at the office
“You’re back?” I blinked.
eleaned lazily against the counter, looking entirely too relaxed for someone who’d supposedly been working late.
“Didn’t want you driving alone,” he said. “Figured I’d come back and bake your favorite dessert for you.”
The early light filtered through the windows, highlighting his gentle smile.
We waited for the elevator together. I glanced at the faint shadows under his eyes and felt a pang of guilt.
“My leg’s healed,” I murmured. “You don’t have to run back and forth for me. If you’re working late, just rest at the office, okay?”
12.50%
The elevator arrived on our floor.
Brandon turned his head and quickly kissed my earlobe.
“I know. I just wanted to ride to work with you.”
My cheeks flushed instantly.
It took me right back to when I was eighteen–when he was still that high school boy who’d linger in front of my house pretending to tie his shoes, just to “accidentally” bump into me.
And when I called him out on it, he’d blush like crazy and mutter, “I just wanted to walk you to school…”
Brandon slipped his arm around my shoulders as we stepped into the elevator.
The girl from upstairs stood inside.
She wore cartoon–print pajamas and fluffy slippers, head down, scrolling her phone–a stark contrast to the bold figure in last night’s photo, twisting the knife in my chest.”
A far cry from the bold, radiant figure in last night’s photo.
When we reached the ground floor, she stepped out quickly, brushing past us
Something shiny in her hair caught my eye
I looked again
It wasn’t a hair clip.
It was Brandon’s silver tie clip–the one he’d lost months
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