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But with Sam?

I knew it would break something in me that couldn’t be fixed.

I tapped on my steering wheel, frustrated, still sitting outside the house in my car long after Sam had pulled off.

All day I had been thinking about everything he said to me.

How he touched me.

How he wasn’t trying to buy me.

He was giving me a way out.

A way up.

He wasn’t controlling like Mark was.

He saw me.

Nobody had ever read me the way Sam did.

I wanted him.

God, I wanted him.

Why couldn’t I have met him instead of Mark?

The rain started just as I pulled onto the street—heavy, fast, slamming against the windshield like the sky was falling apart.

I bit my lip, hands clenching the steering wheel.

I didn’t want to go home.

I didn’t want to walk into that perfect house and sit across from a man who didn’t even see me unless he needed something to brag about.

Sam’s house was closer.

And right now, all I wanted was to be somewhere I didn’t have to pretend.

I headed in the direction of Sam’s Airbnb before I could talk myself out of it.

He said he hadn’t been back home since that night he came and got me.

He said he didn’t plan to either.

He was lying to his wife about being out of town on business until his investigator got enough evidence on her and Mark.

Then he’d file for divorce.

My heart hammered in my chest at the thought. Then what?

I didn’t want to think about the then what, I focused on driving. Keeping my eyes forward and my mind blank.

The windshield wipers were fighting the rain—and losing, it was already hard to see. I just needed to concentrate on driving. Ten minutes later, I was putting the code into his privacy gate, and parking in front of his place.

I sat there for a full minute, breathing, staring at my own trembling hands.

Then I got out, dragging my tired, aching body up the short walkway.