Page 156 of I See You

She turned slowly. He didn’t move. They were inches apart now, his eyes locked on hers, quiet intensity radiating off him.

“So, I have to make appointments now?” he asked, the scowl in his tone clashing with the softness in his gaze.

“Yes, you do,” she said, forcing her voice to stay steady. “And the random calls all through the night? They need to stop.”

He chuckled, slow and dark.

“Why?”

She mugged him. Like it wasn’t obvious.

“Look. I crossed a line with you. What we did was a mistake. I should’ve never let it happen.”

He didn’t say anything. Just smiled—tight, unreadable—and kept his grip on the emerald roses like he was holding something back.

Then he stepped closer. She stepped back. Another step. Another retreat.

Until her back hit the window with a soft groan, nowhere left to run. He hovered in front of her, body close enough to steal her breath, heat rolling off him and soaking straight into her skin.

“It was a mistake?” he asked, voice low and calm, eyes sharp and locked in on hers.

“Yes. I—I’m your therapist and I—”

He leaned in, cutting her off with just the weight of his presence. “You what, Sevyn?” he asked, tone so soft it made her knees weak.

Her body betrayed her instantly. The stutter in her breath, the flush creeping up her skin, the way her thighs subconsciously pressed together.

She was lying. And he knew it.

“Why… why do you have flowers?” Sevyn asked, her voice shaky as she looked down at the bouquet—anywhere but into his eyes.

“They’re for you,” Hassan said simply.

She shook her head. “Flowers for—” she started, trying to collect herself.

“I’m sorry,” he cut her off, voice low but certain. “For leaving the way I did that night. You weren’t some quick fuck. But I dipped out like you were.”

The words hit her like a slap. Her mouth parted, caught off guard. “So you thought flowers and some jewelry were gonna make up for how you made me feel?” she said, her voice cracking as she let the pain show. “I felt used, Hassan.”

He placed the emerald roses and Cartier bag gently on her desk, then turned back to face her.

“I wasn’t using you. That’s not what it was. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I—” he stopped himself, jaw flexing.

She could see the struggle in him. Apologizing wasn’t something he did. Hell, caring wasn’t something he allowed himself to do, but here he was. Trying.

“I get it if you had to leave. But you could’ve left a note. Sent a text. Called the next morning. Something.” Her voice was lower now, laced with disappointment. “I didn’t hear from you for three days.”

Hassan nodded slowly, guilt flashing in his eyes. “Something happened at the casino,” he said, his tone clipped. He left out the real reason—Braxton, the detective, the case—but she could feel it. That there was more.

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh my God. Everything okay?”

That small flicker of concern in her voice made him chuckle bitterly. One minute, she was saying he was a mistake. The next, she was worried about him.

“Yeah,” he replied dryly.

“Good. Because the flowers, whatever’s in that jewelry bag, or even your little apology—no matter how sweet—doesn’t change anything.” Her voice sharpened again, walls flying right back up.

“What we did was a mistake. We crossed a line. We need to go back to therapist and client,” she said, her words like ice. “So if you’re not calling to book a session, we have nothing to talk about.”

---