Page 16 of Fractured Faceoff

The clatter of my desk phone startled me from my work. I stared at it for a moment, half-hoping it would stop ringing on its own.

No such luck.

I picked up the receiver. “Isla Sawyer.”

“Isla, Brody Hemmingway wants to see you,” the receptionist's voice crackled through the line.

My grip tightened around the phone. My teeth clenched. Telling Brody to fuck off would be immensely satisfying, but I didn’twant to make a scene.

“Send him back,” I said, forcing the words through gritted teeth.

I hung up and sat back in my chair, heart pounding against my ribs. What could he possibly want? The thought raced through my mind, each possibility more infuriating than the last.

Maybe he was apologizing. Maybe he was going to beg for my forgiveness and want me back. Maybe?—

A gentle knock at the door yanked me from my thoughts, causing my shoulders to jump. I took a deep breath and cleared my throat.

“Come in,” I called, struggling to keep my voice steady.

The door creaked open, and Brody stepped inside, his expression unreadable. He closed the door behind him with a soft click and took a tentative step forward.

I hated how good he looked. His dark hair was tousled just right, like he'd spent hours perfecting that casual look. Those piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, making my heart leap despite the anger boiling inside me. He wore a tailored suit that fit him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean frame. I despised how my pulse quickened at the sight of him, a reminder of how he could still affect me even after everything he'd done.

My jaw tightened as I forced myself to remain composed, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how much he still got under my skin.

“Isla,” he began, his voice carrying an unfamiliar hesitance.

I said nothing, just crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him, waiting for whatever excuse or plea he had prepared.

Brody shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hisgaze flickering around the room before settling on me again.

“I wanted to talk,” he said finally, his tone strained. “About everything.”

I raised an eyebrow, keeping my face impassive despite the turmoil churning inside me.

“Oh? And what exactly do you want to talk about?” My voice came out sharper than intended, but I didn’t care. He deserved every bit of it and more.

Brody winced slightly but didn’t back down. “I know I messed up. I just... I need you to understand why.”

“Why?” The word burst out of me like a bullet. “You cheated on me with your co-host! What is there to understand?”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched across his features. “It’s not that simple.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “It seems pretty damn simple from where I’m standing.”

Brody's face hardened. “Isla, listen. I want to talk about why it happened, so it doesn't happen again.”

“Excuse me?” My voice was sharp, slicing through the air. “Are you insinuating this is my fault?”

He sighed, his condescension palpable. “I'm not saying it's your fault, but maybe if you had been more... attentive.”

“Attentive?” My anger flared, eyes narrowing into slits. “You have some nerve.”

“Calm down,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I'm just trying to explain.”

“No,” I snapped, stepping forward. “You don't get to put this on me. You made a choice.”

His jaw tightened. “It’s more complicated than that.”

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