Page 73 of Reclaiming Love

“What do you mean by nasty?”

She looked away and shook her head. “Just nasty…” He could see he couldn’t pull it out of her, that she had to give up the information voluntarily. “I thought it best to get it over and done with.” She looked at him again.

Noah put his coffee cup down. “Get what over and done with?” His eyes narrowed.

“Whatever it was he wanted to say to me. And it was important I do it then, before we got back to work, before you and I saw each other again.”

She’d done it for him, had she? Is that what she was implying?

“But he came out of that room without a shirt on.” Accusation stained his words. He waited for Melissa to deny it. Her bottom lip trembled and he saw the truth of it. Knowing it was cruel, he asked her anyway. “Did you sleep with him?”

When she looked at him, tears had started in her eyes. “He had pictures of me.” She looked away and her voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper.

“Pictures?” Even as he said it, his insides clenched. She stared at her untouched cup, refusing to look at him. “He used to take photos of me…in…in”—she closed her eyes—“in my underwear, and make me pose in certain ways.” She closed her eyes and then stared up at the ceiling, and he could see the glob of tears settle near her lashes, threatening to spill over. He reached out, almost touching his fingers to her hands, wanting to touch her, to offer some kind of comfort, but as much as it pained him to see her so broken, a part of him struggled to distance himself from her.

He still needed to hear all the facts first, as hard as it was for him to sit here and see her falling to pieces and him not do a damn thing to comfort her. His fingers stayed, trailing on the table.

She opened her eyes, and one tear fell. “He’d send them to me, you see, every now and then. He said it was his way of telling me that he missed me. I think he thought they were sexy—that I would appreciate them, but I’d always felt uncomfortable even when he took them. He sent me one when I was at home with my parents over Christmas. He even sent me one on New Year’s Eve and that’s when I was heading to the washroom, but I bumped into you instead.” He reached out this time, his fingers gently resting on the back of her hand.

“You and I got talking, and there was no looking back.” More tears fell, and gently rolled down her cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” he asked gently, before moving his seat next to hers. He lifted his hand and wiped her tears away, as she turned her face to him and sniffed, not saying a word.

After a moment, she said, “Each time he sent me a photo like that…even though I’d allowed him to take them…it made me feel uneasy. What if years from now, he uploaded them somewhere and blackmailed me with them? I had to get them back.”

“You came back to get your photos.” Now he understood why. The guy had lied to him about still being with Melissa. Noah shuddered to think what else he’d lied about. Or what else he’d done to her. He put his arm gently around her and she moved toward him, slowly, letting her head rest against him. With his free hand he held hers on the table. Holding her like this was perfect. Moments passed in contemplative silence.

“I came back on New Year’s day,” her voice wavered.

“You don’t have to tell me it all now.”

“I want to.” She sniffed again and he hooked his finger under her chin, tilted her head up to check for tears.

“Not if it makes you sad.” He searched her face closely.

“I’d rather tell you it all now,” she insisted.

Unable to stop himself, he kissed her on the forehead, and she looked at him when he pulled back. Entwining his fingers in hers, he waited for her to continue. She pulled herself out of his embrace and placed her hands on her lap. “I came back on New Year’s Day to tell him there was no chance of us getting back together.” She stopped, and swallowed.

“And he said what?”

“He—he—didn’t see it coming.” She sniffed. “I told him to delete the photos from his phone and his laptop…all of them.”

“And he did?” He asked in surprise.

She nodded her head.

“All of them?”

“All of them.” She repeated in a faraway voice.

Good. Thought Noah, allowing himself to relax a little.

“Oh,” she said, suddenly and turned to pick up her handbag. She pulled out a big, bulky envelope. “I hate to ask you to do this for me. But I need to return these to him.”

The CDs. It had dawned on him yesterday that this was what Melissa had taken that day. “When he’s out, do you think you could somehow slip these onto his desk? I’m sorry to ask you to do something like this for me.”

He took them, knowing he’d do almost anything for her. He had his answers and for now he trusted that she was telling him the truth.”

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