Page 41 of Through You
When our gazes meet, his face is overcome with relief.
“Hi, sexy.”
“Hi, iceberg.”
He smiles and gets up. “Just in time, I’m starving.”
I empty the contents of the lunch bag, placing them on the table in front of the couch on one side of his office. Artemis sits and doesn’t wait for me to finish plating before he starts eating.
Poor thing.
I missed you.
I can’t bring myself to say it out loud.
“Having a difficult week?” I ask instead.
“You have no idea.”
He reclines on the sofa when he’s done eating and closes his eyes. He looks exhausted. When I place my hand over his, he opens his eyes and looks at me.
“I . . .” I stop myself. I can’t tell him.
Artemis flashes me a sweet smile and intertwines his hand with mine.
“I missed you, too, sexy.”
I quickly release his hand as I hear the sound of the door opening, and turn around to see who’s there. It’s the redhead he brought with him to the house the night of the surprise party.
His girlfriend. Correction, his ex-girlfriend, according to what he said at his nightclub. She’s wearing an elegant black skirt and a white blouse paired with red high heels that match her handbag.
Her red hair is perfectly styled in a high ponytail and her makeup looks flawless. She carries a bag with food from a restaurant in one hand.
“Oh, hi. It seems I’m too late, and you ate already!”
My heart begins to pound erratically. I have a terrible queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. The woman smiles as she walks in, stands in front of me, then leans across me and plants a kiss on Artemis’s lips.
Oh no.
I can hear the sound of my heart shattering inside my chest.
My stomach churns. Artemis avoids looking my way and keeps his eyes fixed on her. She turns her gaze on me.
“You must be Claudia. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Cristina, his fiancé.”
Fiancé.
No. Girlfriend. Or is it ex-girlfriend?
So what in the hell was happening between us?
He told me he no longer had a girlfriend. So what am I, the other woman? I try to calm my breathing but I’m having a hard time inhaling.
“Are you not feeling well?” Cristina asks me politely.
I need to throw up. I feel like I’m about to burst into tears, so I stand up.
“I . . . need to go now.”
