Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 44

"Are you upset with me? F-for this?" he asked, hand reaching up to push a strand of hair behind her ear.

She laughed. "No, how could I be mad? That was the best sex I've ever had..."

He was glad she agreed.

He took a deep breath, the visual of his thoughts painting a flash of unreadable expressions on his features, making the aftermath of Eleanor's verbal abuse far more evident than usual. But then again, they had just been intimate — maybe he was just showcasing a vulnerable side to him she had never had the privilege of seeing before.

"I...I dunno. I mean..." he started. "I've...I've only been broken up with my fiancé...ex fiancé, sorry...for two days. I...this isn't..."

She could see the guilt crossing over his features. Did he regret this?

"I don't normally do this type of thing."

Somehow, the words stung worse than she expected them to. He did regret this, then?

"I don't normally sleep with my boss' ex-fiancé either..." she trailed, brow furrowing, as if to somehow counter his words.

He hummed, hand going up to his lips in thought. The thoughts he tried to express weren't coming out right, but maybe it's because he hadn't had sex in almost five months and his brain was mush after the riveting experience.

Neither of them said a word, the guilt becoming more evident on his face and the hurt becoming more evident on hers.

The afterglow didn't last much longer after that. As the mood shifted from ultra high to ultra low, he got up conflictedly, finding his clothes in an awkward fashion before dressing and disappearing, almost as soon as he came.

"I'll see you later," he muttered, barely looking her way before he bolted out of the door.

Her heart sank.
And if he was honest with himself, so did his.

He replayed that moment on repeat for the past three days, cursing at himself every single time.

How could he have been so callous? It wasn't that he regretted it because the sex wasn't amazing. On the contrary — he was being honest when he previously thought it was probably the best sex of his entire life — moreso, it was with someone he truly cared about deeply, perhaps even more deeply than he'd like to admit, even to himself. No — It was just that he was confused. He felt like an asshole. Not because he wanted Eleanor back, but because Livvy meant more to him than just some rebound fuck on a counter two days after he broke up with his fiancé.

He just didn't know how to say that.
That very intricate sentiment specifically.
So, he did what he was best at.

He ran.

Which left him here, in his office, staring at numbers and feeling inordinately empty — from losing his fiancé, plus his best friend / confidante, plus his home — all in a matter of a week.

And now, as he looks at the money Eleanor had been spending without boundary over the past three to six months, he realizes he was also losing his fortune. His future. For the kids he may never have.

He pounds his fist on the counter — not quite sure whether his body and soul want him to be angry or just depressed. He was a multitude of emotions that he can't quite figure out.

And he hates emotions.

God, he wishes Livvy could be there right now. But ever since the incident, he hasn't talked to her. And now that he and Eleanor were officially off the books, there was no way to see her anymore without contacting her directly, outside of work. And that wasn't ideal, because he still wasn't sure what to say to her to make his second colossal fuck up with her any less of a fuck up.