Page 10 of Sexting the Billionaire

A woman wearing what appears to be my silk robe.

They're in the middle of... well, it's obvious what they're in the middle of.

"Cassie!" Camden yelps, scrambling to cover himself. The woman—petite, dark-haired, with the same high cheekbones as me but a much more expensive haircut—lets out a little shriek and dives under the covers.

I stand frozen in the doorway, clutching my duffel bag like it might somehow protect me from this scene.

"I—" Camden starts, his face flushed. "This isn't?—"

"Oh my god," I interrupt, a bizarre laugh bubbling up in my throat. "You're seriously going to say 'this isn't what it looks like' right now? While you're literally having sex with someone else in our bed?"

"I thought you were staying at Olivia's." As if that explains rather than confirms his guilt.

The woman peeks out from under the covers, looking mortified. "You said you were single," she whispers accusingly to Camden.

"He is," I say flatly. "As of last night. Congratulations on the promotion."

Her eyes widen. "Last night? You broke up with her last night?" She turns to Camden, outrage replacing embarrassment. "What the hell, Camden? You said it had been over for months!"

And there it is. The final piece of the puzzle, slotting into place with sickening clarity.

"Months," I repeat, the word tasting like ash in my mouth.

Camden has the decency to look away, unable to meet either of our gazes. "Jenna, please?—"

"Don't 'Jenna please' me," she snaps, gathering the sheets around her as she climbs out of bed. My sheets. On my side of the bed. "You told me you ended things before we even started. You said she knew!"

"I did end things," Camden protests weakly. "Emotionally, I mean."

I should be screaming. I should be throwing things. Instead, I feel oddly calm, like I'm watching this scene unfold from somewhere far away.

"How long?" I ask, surprised by the steadiness of my voice.

Camden fidgets with the edge of the comforter. "Cassie, does it really matter? We've moved on now, and?—"

"Three months," Jenna cuts in, gathering her clothes from the floor. My floor. "Since the Palmer case. I'm sorry. I really thought... I didn't know."

Three months. While I was researching anniversary gifts and helping him prepare for his partnership interview. While I was making myself smaller, quieter, more palatable.

He was with her.

"You can keep the robe," I tell Jenna, oddly fixated on this detail. "It never suited me anyway."

She looks stricken, clutching my silk robe to her chest. "I didn't... I wouldn't have..."

"I know," I say, and I do. Her shock seems genuine. She was played too, just differently. "This isn't on you."

I turn my attention back to Camden, who's attempting to look dignified while clutching a sheet around his waist.

"I came to get my things. I'll arrange for the rest to be picked up next week."

"Cassie," he tries again, with that placating tone I've heard so many times before.

"Let's be adults about this. We can discuss the logistics later when things have calmed down."

"There's nothing to discuss." I adjust the strap of my duffel bag. "And Camden? When you said you needed someone who 'pushes boundaries' last night, you could have just said you needed someone who doesn't mind when you cheat on your girlfriend. Would have saved us both a lot of time."

I turn to leave, then pause at the doorway. "Please have the rest of my things packed by Friday. I've already deleted your number, so don't bother contacting me."

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