Page 75 of The Rules
"Josh—" The whisper escaped her, fragile and pleading.
He didn’t need to say a word. That look was enough—the kind that forgives.
"Don't. It's okay," Joshua told her, his smile small and devastating in its wisdom.
That's what shattered her completely. The genuine absolution. His refusal to punish. The way he'd anticipated her betrayal long before she'd admitted it to herself.
He dragged fingers across the nape of his neck, hesitating as though the words might burn his tongue—yet he spoke them anyway. The quiet truth that severed everything:
"I saw the way you look at him."
Her insides plummeted into void. She didn't need to ask who. The question was unnecessary. Because the answer lived in her already, had been growing there all along.
Katherine shook her head, fingers trembling as she grasped for words that might salvage what was slipping through her hands like water.
“This doesn’t ruin us… right?”The question escaped her lips as barely more than breath, fragile with the terror of losing something irreplaceable in her fractured life.
Joshua considered her, those cognac-warm eyes seeing too much. Then his expression shifted—the clouds parting.
He offered that lopsided smile that had been her shelter, the one that creased the corner of his mouth in a way that was purely Joshua. Genuine. Teasing. Unguarded.
"Nah. You're stuck with me," he said, his voice a balm she didn't deserve.
The kindness flayed her open. It cut deeper than rage ever could because she recognized the gift he was giving—absolution she hadn't earned. She released a shudderingbreath—grateful, ashamed, hollow in a way that made her want to weep but didn’t let her.
She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, then whispered, “Thank you.”
Joshua merely smiled, dismissing the moment with that effortless grace that had always made him seem unbreakable. But his eyes held paragraphs his mouth refused to speak.
"Anytime," he murmured.
And with that—her sanctuary walked away. Without accusation. Without bitterness. A farewell wrapped in mercy that somehow cut deeper than hatred ever could.
Chapter 20
Katherine
Kath stepped inside like she always did—mask on, shoulders squared, smirk locked and loaded. Routine. Familiar.
But the moment her eyes found him, something tightened in her chest.
Ben was already seated. Already watching. But not in the usual way.
He wasn’t poised tonight. Not smooth. Not charming.
He looked…tired. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair, his fingers steepled loosely in front of his mouth, gaze fixed on her like she was a puzzle he no longer had the energy to solve.
The room didn’t buzz with anticipation. It hummed with static.
She tilted her head, cautious now. Testing the air. “Rough night?”
Ben’s lips moved, but it wasn’t a smile. Just a flicker of motion that didn’t reach his eyes. “You could say that,” he said. “Been a tense few days.”
There was no inflection. No teasing. Just fact. Dry and clipped.
Kath stilled. A part of her tried to brush it off—play the game, keep the rhythm. She forced a smirk. “Some people thrive on tension.”
But Ben didn’t rise to the bait. Didn’t give her anything.
