Page 8 of The Fake Affair

“And this is different. Bella’s… she’s always been different.”

Her back stiffens. She turns. “What do you mean?”

I shake my head and pull my laptop closer, opening it more out of habit than focus. “Nothing. Don’t you have actual business to handle?”

“Logan.”

There’s a shift in her voice, quieter now. I glance up, and her expression has changed. Her anger is still there, but it's dulled by something else. Curiosity. Concern.

“How long?”

I lean back, hesitant. “How long what?”

“You have that look when you like someone. So, how long?!”

The office feels smaller suddenly, like the walls are pressing in. I sigh, knowing there’s no use dodging the question anymore. “Since your university graduation party,” I admit, the memory rising clear as day. “But she was your best friend. Off-limits.”

She blinks, stunned for half a breath. “So, instead, you went after my other friends?”

I tilt my head slightly, guilt already heavy in my chest. “I didn’t go after anyone. They were convenient distractions.”

“You’re impossible.” Her voice is tired now as she smooths her dress, no longer furious but still frustrated. She walks back toward the door.

“Fix this,” she says firmly. “Either fire her or tell her the truth. But this psychological warfare? It stops now.”

My chair creaks as I shift forward. “What do you mean, fix this? Bella’s the one tormenting me. Did she tell you about how she’s been messing up my schedules? Look at my eyes—I haven’t had a good night’s rest since she started working here.”

She crosses her arms again, but her glare falters. “I wouldn’t blame her after what you did the morning after you had sex with her.”

I straighten. “What did I do?”

“Don’t act clueless, Logan. You told her to let herself out after you fucked her all night.”

My sister saying “you fucked her all night” is just about all I can take. I close my eyes, taking a moment before I answer. “Firstly, you’re my sister, and it’s a tad weird when you talk about me fucking. Secondly, Bella and I didn’t have a single conversation the morning after. I was on a call, and I went to the bathroom, and by the time I returned, she was gone.”

Audrey pauses, studying me. Her eyes narrow slightly, searching for a lie. Then, slowly, they soften. “You swear?”

I nod vigorously. “On Dad’s head. I was on the phone—had my earbuds in, firing someone. She must have thought I was talking to her.”

The realization settles between us. The misunderstanding, the weeks of tension that resurfaced when she began working at the office, and the sabotage. It all falls into place with grim clarity.

“Oh… my…” Audrey draws the words out, dragging a hand down her face. “This has been a huge mistake.”

Honestly, all this does is make me angrier. Because what actually stopped Bella from staying to ask, from just hurling a simple “What the hell do you think you’re doing” at me? Yes, it was a mistake, but why didn’t she fight back? A muscle twitches in my jaw, and I take a moment to compose myself. “Not a word to her,” I say then, quietly. “I’ll handle this myself.”

Audrey balks. “But?—”

I glare at her, saying as much as I can in as few words as possible. “Not a word, Audrey. I’ll take care of this.”

She hesitates at the door. “Promise you won’t hurt her? She’s been through a lot already. I just want my best friend to be happy.”

I meet her eyes, steady. “We want the same thing, then.”

She lingers only a second more before stepping out. I catch her pausing at Bella’s desk, wrapping her in a hug. They exchange a few whispers, then Audrey leaves, both of them shooting me matching looks of thinly veiled contempt through the glass.

I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling as everything catches up to me. That morning. Her expression. The silence. It all makes sense now, and I hate how easily it could’ve been prevented. I should have chased after her. Should have explained. Instead, I let her believe the worst.

The office grows quieter as the clock ticks past six. Most of the staff have packed up for the night, their desks empty, their chatter gone. Bella remains, head bowed, fingers flying over the keyboard as she corrects the “glitches” I told her to fix.

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