My day only proceeded to go downhill from that point when later in the afternoon Scott called me and explained that he was joining his dad for a business dinner this evening and would be staying with him at his hotel in Birmingham. He likely wouldn't be back until tomorrow afternoon.

I didn't fuss or complain and instead exhausted Netflix for the evening. When I woke up Sunday morning, I found myself thinking about Molly and perhaps it was time to clear the air.

Picking up my phone, I sent her a quick text that literally said I was ready to talk. Minutes later, as I expected, she called me.

"Can I come over?" she asked, putting on her whiny voice.

"Sure," I said. "See you when you get here."

I threw some clothes on and trudged downstairs, trying to ignore how empty the house felt without Scott here. I had gotten so used to him being around I had all but forgotten what it felt like to live alone.

Making myself some toast and a cup of tea, I sat in the dining room and waited for Molly to arrive. Within an hour, I heard a car on the driveway and prayed to God it was her and not Paul again.

As soon as I heard the front door open, I knew it was her. Paul wouldn't dream of letting himself in, especially not after yesterday.

"Ky?" she called out.

"In here," I said, sipping at my cup of tea.

She walked in, her eyes full of sadness like a lost little puppy. "I've missed you," she said.

I flickered my eyes to the chair opposite me, indicating for her to sit down.

She pulled out the chair and sat down, clasping her hands together in front of her. "I'm really sorry for what happened in the dress shop. I was completely out of order."

I nodded. "Yes, you were."

"I'm sorry, Ky, I never meant to hurt you. I just saw how amazing you looked in it and I wanted to look like that. Does that make me so bad?"

I sighed and shook my head. "No, Molls, it makes you human. But you should have spoken to me about it beforehand, not just sprung it on me like you did. If you'd sat me down and said you really liked the dress, would I mind if you tried it on, I'd have been totally cool with that, you know I would."

She nodded, tears brimming in her green eyes. "I know, I'm sorry. I messed up. What else can I say?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Nothing else to say, really."

"Well," she said, grinning. "If you still want the dress for your wedding, I'll give it to you for nothing."

I smirked. "Don't push it. Maybe we can joke about it in ten years."

Laughing, she said, "Ok, ok. What are you doing today?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Nothing much. I'm waiting for Scott to tell me when he's coming back."

She frowned. "He hasn't called you yet?"

I frowned back at her. "Not today, no. Why? Has he you?"

She cleared her throat and said, "He spoke to Chris when you texted me. Chris is going over to Birmingham today. Apparently, these new clients of Scott's dad's are looking for help with their internal systems or something. I don't understand the technicalities of it."

My heart dropped a little. I realised then that our ritual good morning and good night texts had stopped. In one way, it was a good sign that our relationship was moving forwards, but it also made me feel sad that we were missing those elements that drew us together so much in the very beginning.

"Oh," I said, trying not to show my disappointment. "I guess he won't be back tonight either then."

Molly shook her head. "I don't think either of them will be."

"Lunch date then?"

She nodded. "For sure. And some retail therapy. But first, you need to tell me all about your hot sex."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "How do you know we had sex?"

She grinned. "He told Chris. He was so happy about it. Chris said that Scott now feels like you completely trust him, and he feels so great knowing that."

I couldn't help but smile as I realised that his analysis of it was one hundred percent correct. "He's right. I do."

"Put some proper clothes on then and we can head into town. You can tell me all about it on the way," she said, giving me a wink.

I headed upstairs, smiling to myself and feeling rather relieved that I'd managed to fix things with my best friend. Everything seemed to be falling into place.

***

Scott didn't come back Sunday night, just as Molly predicted. We spoke around four p.m. and he explained everything to me, along with many apologies. He said he would be back Monday evening, for sure.

Having had a busy day with Molly, I was more than pleased to have the bed to myself to stretch out in and get a good nights sleep with no smoking hot body distracting me.

Monday morning, I awoke to a text from Molly saying she was off sick today. She suspected the chicken curry she ate for lunch yesterday. Thankful I'd had nothing more adventurous than an onion bhaji and a salad, I got up and readied myself for another day in the office.

I arrived in the office before the directors, as per usual. Ten minutes later, Paul breezed in, my heart backflipping at the mere sight of him again. When would my body stop reacting to him like this? It was distracting at best and made me question everything at worst.

Flashing me a dazzling smile, he stood in his open doorway and said, "Have you got a few minutes please?"

My heart started pounding against my ribs as my mind raced with possibilities of what he might want. Would he try and kiss me? What did he want to say?

Thankfully, he retreated straight to his desk, perching himself on the end of it. My anxiety lessened a little now I knew he wasn't going to try anything physical.

"Hi," he said. He looked at ease, the usual cool, calm, and collected man I'd first been so taken with.

I smiled back but said nothing as I took a seat in the chair in front of his desk.

He scratched his head, as he looked at the floor. A minute or so passed before he said, "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. What do you want?"

"I wanted to explain my behaviour to you."

I glanced away. "I don't want to hear it."

"Please, Kyra. Just listen."

I sighed, clicking my tongue as I crossed my arms over my chest. I stared at my shoes, noticing the little scuffs on the sides. I'd have to get some boot polish on them to cover them up. After a minute's silence, I glanced up at him. "Are you getting on with it or what?"

He cleared his throat, pursing his lips before speaking. "On the Monday evening when I left here, before I...cut things off between us, I received a phone call."

I nodded, remembering that night. He had marched out of the office with an ashen face and his phone stuck to his ear.

"Well, the purpose for that phone call was my father telling me there was someone of importance waiting to see me at the house." He faltered before starting his next sentence. "The person who was waiting for me is a good friend of my father's, and also happens to be in the club."

I raised my eyebrows, my mouth running dry at the thought of where this was going.

"My father called in a favour from him many years ago, for me. As a result, he insists I meet this man every time he comes over to show my gratitude to him."

Taking slight relief in the fact he said this was a man, I let out my breath, not realising I'd been holding it until now. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat as he continued.

"This man, Mr. Peters, has a wife."

My heart rate spiked in an instant. A ball of nausea began brewing in my stomach. I closed my eyes, as tears sprung up from nowhere. "Please, stop. I get the picture."

"Just listen." He paused, taking a sip of water. I dared to open my eyes, watching his face crease into sadness as he spoke. "Mrs. Peters has quite a liking for me and when she comes over, she requests my...presence."

I opened my mouth to speak but instead found myself choking back a sob, realising this was going where I thought it was.

"Mrs. Peters requested me on Monday evening when she arrived at the house—"

I stood up, my hands shaking, and turned towards the door. "I don't need to hear this."

He stood up with me, and moved around me, blocking my path to the door. "But I refused."

A wave of relief hit me. I sat back down, forcing myself to listen to the rest.

"My father was not amused in the slightest, nor were Mr. and Mrs. Peters. After much arguing, Mr. Peters announced unless I did as his wife wished, he would find a way to...undo what he'd helped me with years ago."

My jaw dropped open. His statement left me speechless. The ball of nausea returned to my stomach, only ten times more potent. The tears in my eyes threatened to spill overboard.

"So I had to...go ahead with their wishes."

I cringed, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to force unwanted images out of my mind.

"My father knew why I refused Mrs. Peters and was livid. I had no choice but to do what I did to you. My hands were tied from all sides. I did what I thought was best for you."

I let out a long breath, my mind reeling from this information overload. I didn't know what to say or do.

He bent down, placing his hands on my arms. I flicked my eyes to his, getting lost in his beautiful sapphire eyes once again. Now I understood why he had been such an arsehole to me and I couldn't be more grateful that he'd had the decency to end things instead of carrying on sleeping with me after that.

"I'm sorry, Kyra." He lifted a hand to my chin and tilted my face up to meet his. "I couldn't...be with you after I'd had to do that. I spent two days convincing myself I was doing the right thing. The only way I could make it happen was to be cruel to you. I'm so sorry."

Hot tears slid down my cheek as everything that had happened between us replayed over and over in my mind.

"But that's what you do," I said, my voice sounding weak and pathetic. "You go with other people and all of that. I don't understand."

He gave me a wry smile. "Don't you remember Tessa?"

I blushed as I let out a half sob, half laugh, nodding.

"Didn't you wonder why I didn't touch her?"

I thought about the situation again and shook my head. Then I remembered Tessa's last words to me "Well, let's just say that's the first ménage a trois I've had where the guy makes his singular interest rather clear."

"Because I didn't want to touch anyone else." He moved his hands to my knees, my skin heating to new degrees under his touch. "I may have said I don't do relationships, but that was one to me. I wasn't having sex with anyone else. That was my commitment—I just didn't want to admit it."

My tears sprung free as I attempted a nervous laugh. "What kind of fucked up relationship is that?"

He gave me a cheeky smile and wiped my tears away. "I've not had a relationship for a long time, I've told you that before. Give me a break, it's been a while."

I smiled, finding myself silently begging for him to wrap me up in his arms. Why hadn't he just told me this before? So much heartache, and for what?

"So what's the deal with this Mr. Peters? What did he do?" I asked.

His smile faded as he raked a hand through his hair. "Mr. Peters is a judge."

"What? Why would you need a favour from a judge?"

He drew in a deep breath. "Remember my ex I told you about? The one who cheated on me?"

I nodded, dread filtering through me at what was going to be said next.

"Well, I caught her in bed with my best friend. To cut a long story short, I chased them across a road whereby they were hit by an oncoming lorry. I was up for manslaughter. Mr. Peters made it all go away."

My head spinning in a million different directions, I fell against the sturdy back of the chair as I listened to the confession of my boss, my ex-lover, being a killer.