Page 117 of Every Silent Lie

“When you’re feeding him information that’s driving down the value of my company, it’s my business, Camryn.”

“What? I’ve not told Dec a damn thing about your company.” Now is apparently a good time for my mind to remind me otherwise. Oh my God, have I been used to get inside information on TF Shipping?

“He’s slashed his offer, and then I found out he’s seeing you. Coincidence?”

Good question. “How long has this been going on?” I ask.

“A few months.”

All the pieces start to click into place, and I seriously do not like the picture it’s building. I’ve known Dec for a few weeks. Fell in love with him in a few weeks. “Did you plan on selling up all along?”

“No, not all along. Just until some bazillionaire came along and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“So what’s the fucking point in me being here now?”

“There is no point.”

“Then why am I?”

“Because I was too scared to fire you.”

I recoil, and Thomas smiles awkwardly. “Are you firing me now?”

“Well, that’s debatable. If Ellis keeps driving his price down, I’ll continue with the original plan to float the company and tell him to go fuck himself. But I don’t know if I can trust you, Camryn.”

“Did he tell you he was seeing me?”

“No, but it was pretty bloody obvious when he asked how you were after injuring yourself at work. So how did you injure your face, because you told him you did it here, and you told me you fell over on your way home from work.”

“Do I have a job?” My voice is so tight, and my throat aches.

“It’ll have to go to the board.”

I laugh coldly. “You mean your wife and son?” That’s a no, then. Jesus Christ. Reality’s playing a cruel fucking game with me. I need this job. Especially now my newfound source of distraction has been taken away. And that’s the only reason I don’t fly off the handle and tell Thomas where to shove his job and instead walk out calmly. Dec fucking lied to me. Used me. I’ve allowed myself to be vulnerable, and now I just look like a fool.

Problem is, I didn’t allow it. Dec somehow drew out the old me, and then he gave me hope to cling to.

And now he’s taken it away.

Hope. What a fucking joke. It’s just a burden on one’s destiny.

Just when I don’t think my day can get any worse, I make it home and find Dominic loitering outside my building. As much as I tell it not to, my stomach drops, my steps faltering. “The papers are in the post,” I say, passing him, armed with my keys.

“That’s not why I’m here, Cam,” he replies, making me still. “Can I come in?”

“Why?” I face him. “Has guilt kicked in?”

“I don’t feel good about this.”

“You don’t feel good?” I ask. “If you’re going to own your shit, Dominic, own it. Say you feel awful. Horrendous. How about you feel really fucking shit? How long have you been together?” I ask, like I need more blows today. “She must be what? Eight months?”

“Thirty-eight weeks.” Due any day. I suck back the impact of that hit. The hit I absolutely asked for. “Look, can I come in? I don’t want to do this out here.”

“Do what?” I’ve known this man a long time. I know that when he reaches for the corner of his right eye and rubs, he’s about to tell me something I’m not going to like. And he’s rubbing the corner of his eye now, squinting as he does.

“We’re not going inside?” he asks on a breathy sigh.

“No, I don’t think I want that.” Because I have a feeling I’m going to be asking him to leave immediately. I frown and look past him when I see a couple of police officers coming up the path, both of them looking at the building. Dominic glances over his shoulder to see what’s got my attention as they approach, and I push my back into the glass door to allow them past.